So I bought a $2,000 bike last year. Not a $2,000 motorcycle. A $2,000 bicycle. It was a present to myself after winning a scholarship at CBC. It is the single-most extravagant thing I have ever bought, by far. It’s black with a red racing trim. The pedals clip onto specially designed-shoes. It is narrowContinue reading “So I bought a $2,000 bike”
Author Archives: ashergreenberg
A Refuge for Infiltrators
Between the din of commuting Israeli soldiers, yelling shopkeepers, and loud drunks, Johnny proceeds to recount how he was kidnapped and tortured to within an inch of his life in the Sinai desert. Many times over. For months. And after all of that to arrive there and be labeled an infiltrator.
Welcome to South Tel Aviv
By Asher Greenberg Since 2006, tens of thousands of non-Jewish Eritreans and Sudanese have migrated to Israel, crossing what was then a lightly defended border with Egypt’s Sinai desert. Their arrival has upended neighbourhoods, charged Israel’s already polarized political atmosphere, led to the frantic construction of a $400 million fence to keep them out, and toContinue reading “Welcome to South Tel Aviv”
Between Hell and a Hard Place
By Asher Greenberg Since 2006, tens of thousands of non-Jewish Eritreans and Sudanese have migrated to Israel, crossing what was then a lightly defended border with Egypt’s Sinai desert. Their arrival has upended neighbourhoods, charged Israel’s already polarized political atmosphere, led to the frantic construction of a $400 million fence to keep them out, and toContinue reading “Between Hell and a Hard Place”
“this is an acceptable risk”
It’s a bizarre headache. Not so much a migraine, but the kind where it feels like your brain is trying to climb out of your head. The kind that says, “hey, body, what the *fuck* are you doing?” And my body doesn’t answer. It doesn’t even shrug. That’s because my chest has taken over. With an iron grip on my legs, it drags me forward at a pace I would not refer to as leisurely.
The place where there are angry people
“Ha’am doresh hasudanim legoresh,” they chant. “The people demand the Sudanese be expelled.” It rhymes in Hebrew. It’s an adaptation of a similar chant used in the social justice rallies that swept Israel last year.
Where does the bus go?
“Where does the bus go?” she says in Hebrew. The elderly woman, sitting in the row in front of me, interrupts my train of thought and I try to stammer out a reply in Hebrew. “Tachanah merkazit.” The central bus station, though I hate saying it, because the way I pronounce the ‘r’ quickly identifiesContinue reading “Where does the bus go?”
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