Purim!

There I was, dressed as a stately and slightly inebriated Julius Caeasar reincarnate standing at the apex of a slowly buckling metal recycling cage overlooking scores of pirates, pinocchios, power rangers, hot dogs, hefalumps, royal family members, robin hoods, crayons, criminals, smurfs, spongebobs, angry birds, avatars, zorro's, zombies, and zoo animals as far as the eye could see. During the most festive party of the year in Tel Aviv, it is the person highest above street level who is Caesar, regardless of wardrobe or earthly status. Joined by my brethren Iliya, Inadequate Dan and the Big Cat, it was a quintessential moment I will not soon forget.

There is an old saying that goes: If you put two Jews in a room, you wind up with three opinions.
Israeli culture is argumentative, divisive, and often confrontational. Americans are willing to hold their tongues or err on the side of being conciliatory rather than antagonistic when it comes to debates with family, friends or strangers. Not saying one is favorable to the other, just that there is an identifiable but not quantifiable distinction. The manifestation of this culture, at least for the big city of Tel Aviv, is a city as diverse, colorful and vibrant as any that I have had the pleasure of experiencing. It is ironic to me that in the tiny corner of the globe that Israel occupies with the sole jewish-majority populace in the world there can be such homogeneity. Then, Purim comes along. I was shocked by the unification process that took place over the course of last week. Tel Aviv went from an interwoven web of identities, agendas, viewpoints, and strangers to a common people, unified in their celebration of an ancient Judaic tradition of dressing up and drinking until one knows not good from evil. I dont remember feeling as part of something as incredible since fall 2006 at the conclusion of the greatest game ever played between Michigan and Ohio State. The street parties in Tel Aviv reminded me of this feeling..and it was a good one.

Our celebration started Thursday afternoon with a trip to the Shuk Hacarmel to find some quality costumes for the occasion. On the way, we stumbled across this gentleman who could play 2 recorders at once....with his nose. It may not be an admirable one, but I believe it counts as a skill, and the amount of time he put into learning this weird human feat deserves some recognition. But not too much. If you like to hear woodwind instruments played with a nose, this video is right up your alley.







Once in the Shuk, we engaged in the masculine tradition of playing dress-up with whatever wigs and masks we could find. Then, we stumbled upon a bunch of boobs. Big boobs. Monster Jugs. Made of plastic.  5 shekels per pair (thats 2.5 shekels per teet!). Ben, being the effeminate one of the group, and frankly the one one of us with a ladylike figure and womanly disposition to pull off a complete cross-dressing, decided this was to be the catalyst for what would turn into a transvestite outfit that Rupaul would have given his/her nod of approval for.

On friday, we headed to the massive day-time street party on Shaul Hamelech with the Canadian delegation. The street was shut down as droves of eager costume-clad celebrators partied to the sounds of pulsating techno in the hot sun. We took a short break from the madness for lunch, but otherwise we did our best to keep up.

'Merica

Hot diggity dog

Pac Lives

And then there was Saturday. The street parties in the neighborhood of Florentine are the Israeli mardi gras equivalent.  A claustrophobe's nightmare. Each block was packed at the next, with dressed up DJs every 100 yards pumping tunes from the 2nd or third flood of apartment buildings. I elected to deviate from my group temporarily to dance with complete strangers. It's funny how a costume can make you feel invincible. I was Julius Caesar for god's sake! Who dare deny the Caesar a dance? Boosted by a sense of false confidence, I tried to dance with everyone I could find. I may not be an accomplished dancer, but my go-to move of the twist seems to never fail.