Time In Israel
According to cultural anthropologist and biblical scholar Raphael Patai the predominantly Arab, Middle Eastern Culture reflects an interesting relationship with time that can be understood through the Arab language. In his book entitled The Arab Mind, he says "In Arabic the imperfect form can stand for present, future and past ". The Arab language reflects a clear lack of concern for linear time, with significant historical events often grossly misrepresented in linear time sequence. A disconcerting example follows.
The names Mary and Miriam share a root and in Arabic are one and the same; Maryam. Patai tells us that even though Mary -mother of Jesus, lived some thirteen centuries after Miriam- sister of Moses, "the two women are represented in the Koran as one and the same person". Koran 3:35ff. The wife of Imran (ie.Amram, father of Moses) is said to have given birth to Maryam, who in turn gave birth to Jesus. In Koran 19:28 Maryam the mother of Jesus is addressed as "sister of Aaron". Even to the lay scholar this lack of regard for linear time presents a major problem, with fundamental Jewish and Christian events being merged into a cholent of misinformation.
My friend, who works with the Arab Israeli peace initiative, teaching Arabic and working closely with Israeli Arabs, tells me that the Arabs are not in a hurry to take over the country, they have time. Meanwhile the Israeli national hand symbol for 'be patient – savlanut" is silently screamed out of every car window at every opportunity accompanied by horn blowing before the lights even change colour - like your mother reminding you to pick up your dirty socks as if you weren't going to anyway. Coming from abroad where less parve hand signals are frequently used, it's easy to be offended when an Israeli sticks their pinched fingers up at you implying somewhat more than a polite request for a little patience. Patience is not widely practiced in this country implying that Israeli's are in a hurry to get things done, to be productive, efficient and not waste time.
Unless of course you are in the service industry. If your job requires you serving anyone in any way shape or form (with the single exception of the staff at the King David Citadel) the old Arabic sense of timelessness takes over. No one is in a hurry to do, finish, accomplish anything. There is no rush, time itself will wait. Personal calls are taken, meals are prepared, cows are milked. There is no sense of time in the Post Office, bank, health department, or council offices. The ministries all over this country float in the Arab national time frame blissfully ignorant of the fact that outside the enclosed walls of Israeli bureaucracy, linear time is still the order of the day.
Schools fall somewhere in between, insisting you send your child prepared to every event with just a days notice, and at the same time initiating services over years if not decades. By the time my seven year old is assessed for learning difficulties he will be a general in the Israel Army, and believe me he won't be the first to make it into Israel's fighting forces with unaddressed issues. In this case it may even be a bonus. In fact in most cases it's probably a bonus.
My sister in law has a diary in which she schedules her busy life. Lunches and parties are penciled in weeks and months ahead, and she never misses a birthday. We aren't like that; still I can't help but be confused. Am I supposed to be efficient and productive or endlessly patient? Is time in this country important or irrelevant? The Torah perspective would of course say that the six days of the week are for productive linear time, and the Sabbath is a day of transcendence where we float above time in blissful celebration of the gift of the day. Perhaps if all of Israel honored this cycle, the order would be evident and there would be less confusion.
Israel is a strange and mysterious place, ordinary, gritty and hard. I can't seem to sink my teeth into anything here; time evades me as I desperately try to create order in my daily life and the life of my family. Nothing gets done and yet we float from day to day, with a vague sense of purpose. I am woken in the dark hours of the early morning by the Mosques call to prayer. Morning merges into afternoon, afternoon into night and by the time I climb into bed I wonder what it is that I have done all day.
Perhaps it is the land that sets time up in this way, Arabic and Ancient Hebrew reflecting the essential nature of this timeless arid place. Productive modern Israel and modern Hebrew with its clearly differentiated verb tense system, seems determined to overcome this indifference to time. Still I think they don't stand a chance with the girl behind the checkout counter at the local supermarket and the fifteen year old running the international post depot in central Tel Aviv and so for a carton of milk and cotton socks from grandma, we will patiently wait.
The names Mary and Miriam share a root and in Arabic are one and the same; Maryam. Patai tells us that even though Mary -mother of Jesus, lived some thirteen centuries after Miriam- sister of Moses, "the two women are represented in the Koran as one and the same person". Koran 3:35ff. The wife of Imran (ie.Amram, father of Moses) is said to have given birth to Maryam, who in turn gave birth to Jesus. In Koran 19:28 Maryam the mother of Jesus is addressed as "sister of Aaron". Even to the lay scholar this lack of regard for linear time presents a major problem, with fundamental Jewish and Christian events being merged into a cholent of misinformation.
My friend, who works with the Arab Israeli peace initiative, teaching Arabic and working closely with Israeli Arabs, tells me that the Arabs are not in a hurry to take over the country, they have time. Meanwhile the Israeli national hand symbol for 'be patient – savlanut" is silently screamed out of every car window at every opportunity accompanied by horn blowing before the lights even change colour - like your mother reminding you to pick up your dirty socks as if you weren't going to anyway. Coming from abroad where less parve hand signals are frequently used, it's easy to be offended when an Israeli sticks their pinched fingers up at you implying somewhat more than a polite request for a little patience. Patience is not widely practiced in this country implying that Israeli's are in a hurry to get things done, to be productive, efficient and not waste time.
Unless of course you are in the service industry. If your job requires you serving anyone in any way shape or form (with the single exception of the staff at the King David Citadel) the old Arabic sense of timelessness takes over. No one is in a hurry to do, finish, accomplish anything. There is no rush, time itself will wait. Personal calls are taken, meals are prepared, cows are milked. There is no sense of time in the Post Office, bank, health department, or council offices. The ministries all over this country float in the Arab national time frame blissfully ignorant of the fact that outside the enclosed walls of Israeli bureaucracy, linear time is still the order of the day.
Schools fall somewhere in between, insisting you send your child prepared to every event with just a days notice, and at the same time initiating services over years if not decades. By the time my seven year old is assessed for learning difficulties he will be a general in the Israel Army, and believe me he won't be the first to make it into Israel's fighting forces with unaddressed issues. In this case it may even be a bonus. In fact in most cases it's probably a bonus.
My sister in law has a diary in which she schedules her busy life. Lunches and parties are penciled in weeks and months ahead, and she never misses a birthday. We aren't like that; still I can't help but be confused. Am I supposed to be efficient and productive or endlessly patient? Is time in this country important or irrelevant? The Torah perspective would of course say that the six days of the week are for productive linear time, and the Sabbath is a day of transcendence where we float above time in blissful celebration of the gift of the day. Perhaps if all of Israel honored this cycle, the order would be evident and there would be less confusion.
Israel is a strange and mysterious place, ordinary, gritty and hard. I can't seem to sink my teeth into anything here; time evades me as I desperately try to create order in my daily life and the life of my family. Nothing gets done and yet we float from day to day, with a vague sense of purpose. I am woken in the dark hours of the early morning by the Mosques call to prayer. Morning merges into afternoon, afternoon into night and by the time I climb into bed I wonder what it is that I have done all day.
Perhaps it is the land that sets time up in this way, Arabic and Ancient Hebrew reflecting the essential nature of this timeless arid place. Productive modern Israel and modern Hebrew with its clearly differentiated verb tense system, seems determined to overcome this indifference to time. Still I think they don't stand a chance with the girl behind the checkout counter at the local supermarket and the fifteen year old running the international post depot in central Tel Aviv and so for a carton of milk and cotton socks from grandma, we will patiently wait.
Comments