As thousands of excited young people crowded Rabin Square in Tel Aviv on Friday afternoon, it was hard for an observer not to compare the scene to other recent gatherings in the region. After all, the world has spent the past several weeks watching young and restless Egyptians and Turks flock to Tahrir and Taksim to protest, demand change, and be heard by their leaders.
But the rambunctious Israelis who took to the Tel Aviv streets weren?t there to protest - they were there to get wet. Very wet.
A relatively recent summer tradition that takes place on the first Friday of July - Water War Tel Aviv - is a grassroots celebration has grown exponentially over the past eight years. The splash fest began in in 2004. Five years later, in 2009, it was still just a fringe phenomenon - frolicking in the shadow of complaints from the Israel Water Authority that the activity was wasteful during a year where the country suffered from a severe drought.
This year, thanks to the far reaching capabilities of Facebook and Twitter, more than 7,000 water warriors showed up from around the country to take part in the festivities, clad in bathing suits, wet suits, or clothing they were willing to get soaked in - many in silly costumes - for more than four hours of soggy action. They plunged into the Tel Aviv fountains in the historic square, pouring buckets of water on each other and shooting each other with gigantic super soaker water guns which looked like the recreational equivalent of M-16s. And on the balcony overlooking the square where Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin spent his final hours, gleeful aqua-terrorists dropped water balloons on unsuspecting victims below.
Some took the war theme seriously, if clearly tongue-in-cheek: a few hard-core folks dressed themselves in pseudo-military camouflage gear and a few creative types chose to break their gas masks out of the boxes and wear them as protection against the spray as an alternative to goggles or scuba masks.
Anyone in the vicinity who dared to attempt to stay dry was fair game. Would-be photographers played a game of chicken with the spritzers, looking around nervously before they whipped their cameras and telephones out of their bags in order to take pictures of the impressive scene before them, knowing that they did so at the risk of getting their precious gadgets splashed and possibly ruined. In the spirit of communal protectiveness, professional and amateur photographers generously handed each other plastic bags and plastic wrap to keep their cameras and phones as safe as possible.
I personally survived a near-iPhone-death experience. As I stood on the periphery of the crowd with my phone snapping pictures, clearly dry enough to attract attention, a bearded man strode up to me with a massive water gun and a crazed look in his eye. He said in a threatening voice ?put your iPhone in your bag? using exactly the same tone a mugger would order me to hand over my wallet. I tried to reason with him in an attempt to spare my dry clothing, but he was relentless. He just kept repeating ?put your iPhone in your bag.? Finally, I did, and in a final attempt at pleading for mercy, asked him, ?Really, what did I ever do to you?? He glared. ?What did you ever do to ME? What did you ever DO to me?? he asked me over and over again. He was so impassioned that I began to wonder if perhaps I knew this guy and had in fact, done something to offend him.
Finally he answered his own question: ?What did you ever do to me??? NOTHING!? - and began spraying me with all his might.
It was touching and rather lovely to see that one group of people stayed immune from the rowdy water fest, almost as if there was a magic protective bubble around them keeping them dry. Sitting in a circle of chairs in the shade underneath the stairs leading up to the balcony were the small, vigilant group of folks who showed up at weekly demonstration for peace and democracy that takes place every Friday afternoon, right next to the spot where Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated. Oblivious to the chaos around them, they sat there as they do every week, singing inspirational songs from the past accompanied by an accordion, doing their best to keep the dream of peace alive.
To be sure - Israel as a whole, and Tel Aviv in particular, has seen its share of angry political rallies and tense, violent confrontations associated with them. There is no better place to remember this than in Rabin Square.
But during this particular slice of this particular summer, the contrast between the glee and devil-may-care spirit of the Water War and events rattling other countries in the region was striking. Just a day later, in Istanbul?s Taksim Square, police would be blasting water cannons and shooting tear gas at demonstrators trying to demonstrate. In Tel Aviv, by contrast, the water sprayed in the opposite direction, as bold young Water Warriors fearlessly hurled buckets of water at the windshields of police patrol cars and the police inside them just laughed in the spirit of the event. (Bus drivers who were soaked when they opened their doors to let passengers in and out were far less amused.)
Tel Aviv may not be the only warm-weather city in the world in which a wet-and-wild festival takes place - they seem to be particularly popular in the Far East - but I would dare to venture that it is the place where the residents enjoy and appreciate it the most. In a country all-too familiar with the real tools of war, seeing young Israeli men and women doing battle with super soakers and water balloons instead of real machine guns and grenades felt as refreshing as the feeling of the cold water on my hot sunburned shoulders.
LucasArts Finding Dory Chaz Ebert Mike Rice yu darvish Skylar Diggins kim jong un
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.