Haim Blanc (1926-1984)

Haim Blanc, whom I mentioned in yesterday's post on Sasson Somekh's lecture, looks like a remarkable figure in his own right. Somekh told me that Blanc went from Romania to France and then the U.S. He was attached to the U.S. army forces after the war, according to Somekh in France. I wonder if he was also with the occupation forces in Germany. Apparently, he was born in Czernowitz, a detail that Somekh neglected to inform me about. I am sure he grew up speaking either German or Yiddish and I wonder if his original name was not Weiss. He went to Harvard after the war, then went to fight with the Palmach in 1948, was wounded in action. For more, see the Hebrew Wikipedia entry on him.

Somekh told me that Blanc's doctorate was on the Arabic of the Druze in Israel. The consensus then had been that they spoke a different dialect of Arabic (than non-Druze). He proved that this was incorrect and that they did not speak a different dialect at all. Remarkable: as far as I understand, Blanc only started studying Arabic when he came to Israel.

His 1964 work on Communal Dialects in Baghdad discussed the "qiltu" and "gilit" Arabic dialects. Jews spoke the former, Muslims the latter. I am a complete ignoramus on these matters though - perhaps there were some differences among Muslims, and I don't know what the various Christian groups spoke. "Qiltu" and "gilit" both mean "I say." If I recall correctly, qiltu is less prestigious and comes from northern Iraq.

The Other Gilad?

BY CARMIA

$10,000,000 for any information which leads to the finding of the missing soldier Majdi Halabi

It's been almost four and half years since the disappearance of the Israeli soldier Majdi Halabi. The then 19-year old soldier from the Druze town of Daliyat-el-Carmel was on his way to his base, but never made it to his destination. He hasn't been heard from since, and the Israeli public hasn't heard much about him, either. While everyone knows the names Gilad Shalit or Ron Arad, hardly anyone could tell you who Majdi Halabi is.

The fact that for a while already there has been a $10,000,000 reward on any information that leads to his discovery hasn't brought about any results either. You might see a sign about him if you are the Horev Centre in Haifa or pass by the University of Haifa, or catch the huge billboard up at the entrance of Halabi's hometown. That's how I learned about Halabi a few years ago. Someone has opened a Facebook profile in his name to "support the family." The Hana Fitness Centre in Daliyat-el-Carmel held a "sports event," sponsored by Speedo and others, on the fourth year anniversary of his disappearance. These all seem to organized by family members and fellow townspeople. But that's all. It just doesn't seem to be enough for a state that prides itself on its high concern for its soldiers.

Dolls and Wheelchairs

BY CARMIA

There is a prevalent belief in Israel that everything that happens "abroad" (which usually means North America and Europe) gets here ten later. Witness the relatively recent sushi craze. Or, to cite another example, recycling has made its inroads but is still limited to plastic bottles and paper, at least in Haifa. Yet, environmental awareness is practically non-existent. So, too, is the concept of wheelchair accessibility.

For just over a week and ending tonight, Beit Hecht in Haifa hosted an exhibit, called "Magic of the Dolls." The building of Beit Hecht itself is quite unique. Most people who have been to Haifa know that there is a German Colony downtown, where German Templars used to live. Few people, however, know that there are still Templar buildings in other neighbourhoods of Haifa: Neve Sha'anan and the Carmel Center. Beit Hecht is one of such buildings.

The dolls exhibit hosted works by many different artists, each unique in its material, theme, size, and style. Unfortunately, for anyone who has limited mobility, which included someone in my party, almost half of the exhibit was off-limits as the only way to access the second floor was by a long and steep stairway. There was an elevator, but it didn't work, and I'm not sure when the last time it ever worked was. Though the staff did express sympathy, apparently it hadn't occured to anyone to try to make the entire exhibit accessible, or at least to warn us before we purchased our tickets.

The dolls which we did manage to see were captivating. They ranged from the realistic to the fantastical and cartoonish.

The doll below, however, puzzled me. It was labeled, "The Druze Woman Who Bakes Pita with Za'atar." "The Druze woman" baking pita is indeed a familiar sight in Haifa and the surrounding area. But I've never seen a Druze woman wearing this kind of costume, which looks closer to the clothes worn by some Bedouin women.

Maybe in ten years, this lovely exhibit, in its entirety, will be accessible to all.