The volume coming from the stage is so loud, I’m sure every Jordanian on the other side of the Sea can hear them. Praise you, Jesus!
My only question so far is why they are doing this here. This is a show of sound, movement, and light that would perfectly fit any evangelical church in Tennessee.
“The spirit of the Lord is here, the power of the Lord is here,” goes the next song.
A German pastor, by the name of Jürgen Bühler, who is the ICEJ’s executive director, speaks in thick German English. He blesses the people arriving.
Next to him another person stands and says: “Holy Spirit, welcome!” And the crowd roars with approval.
This event, by the way, is broadcast on God Channel – yes, there is a TV station by this name. Strong winds blow sand into our faces as a black female singer sings Hallelujah. She has a voice and energy that are heavenly, and it makes me miss NY. Oh boy, she knows how to sing! And she knows how to get through to people. They get up, they raise their hands, they move with the wind blowing the sand and they chime in with her song with their eyes closed. I never knew Hong Kong people could be so loud.
A South African female pastor, a naturalized German by the name of Suzette Hattingh, who for years worked Reinhard Bonnke, a German evangelist, ascends the stage and with her heavily accented English she preaches to us. She seems to cherish the fact that this event is being broadcast on God Channel. “I’m on the way to Heaven,” she shouts, though I don’t know if she means it literally, or whether she’s talking about the fact of being broadcast on TV. And then she orders us around: “I want you to stand, I want you to raise your hands.”
All do. She goes on: “There’s a woman watching us right now on God Channel who has only three more months to live. Go back to your doctor!” Yes. Right in front of our eyes, that woman gets healed. Like her mentor Bonnke, whom I saw in Germany the other day telling his followers that he resurrected the dead in Africa, this lady too believes, or pretends to believe, that she is God.
With one line out of the thousands she utters, she pays lip service to Israel, when she reminds us that Jesus was Jewish. In the other 99.9 percent of her many words she speaks of miracles, and then she speaks in tongues: “kuaka, chakaka, tugalka.” None of this has anything to do with a Zionism of any kind. It’s just missionary work, implicitly letting us know that we will all be sick unless we scream with her, “Jesus, kuaka, chakaka, tugalka.”
This Christian Embassy does not shy away from the cheap use of the word “Jews” in order to get more and more converts, of whom the embassy now asks to donate generously to its coffers. They are not Christian Zionists, they are Christian Kuakas. The European lovers of Palestine build and renovate mansions for Palestinians; these Christian lovers of Israel are Kuakas who raise money for Jesus and resurrect the dead.
***
Once this is over, I turn my attention to more interesting events on my iPad. I find one quite a lovely event advertised by the BBC: “Diplomats from a number of European countries and the UN have reacted angrily after Israeli soldiers intervened to prevent them delivering aid to Bedouins in the West Bank.” And it gets better: “One French diplomat said she was forced to the ground from her vehicle.” The French diplomat, Marion Fesneau-Castaing, is quoted as saying: “This is how international law is being respected here.”
In more detail the BBC goes on to say: “The aid was being delivered to Khirbet al-Makhul after homes there were demolished under a High Court order.” An accompanying photo shows the head of a lady surrounded by booted soldiers with rifles pointed at her and fingers on or around the triggers. The image is not very clear, taken at a very strange angle, but all the visuals here easily remind you of Nazi Germany.
This BBC story strikes me as tailored for Tobi the German to pursue. I check more into it and find that it was the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) that was one of the first to be involved in this issue, the Khirbet al-Makhul issue, and that earlier in the week they had tried to help the Bedouins in a similar manner.
I call them up.
Nadia Dibsy, a spokesperson for the ICRC, tells me that she was at the location at the time and saw Marion Fesneau-Castaing being beaten with her own eyes. I ask her a really stupid question: Why are diplomats taking on an activist role in a host country? Is this what diplomats are supposed to do? I live in New York, where the UN is headquartered, and naturally there are many, many diplomats in New York. Should I expect them to come to Harlem and stop any eviction notice against members of the black community by the New York courts?
Nadia didn’t expect me to ask her stupid questions. I was supposed to react differently, obviously, and say what European journalists usually say in such cases: “Thank you very much, Ms. Dibsy, for taking the time to share this important piece of information with me.”
But, idiot that I was, I came up with my stupid question.
Nadia, sensing a potential trouble, collects herself fast. She changes what she has said before and now tells me: “I was not there on Friday.” She was there only earlier in the week and doesn’t know what exactly happened when the diplomats were there. I ask her if it is normal for the ICRC to take action against Supreme Court rulings in other countries as well. She chooses not to answer directly and instead tells me that Israel is an occupying force and that there are international laws that Israel must observe.
Could it be that the Israeli Supreme Court doesn’t know about this international law, or maybe simply decided to ignore the law? Nadia doesn’t want to answer this question but tells me that according to international law Israel has no right to evict natives from the hills they share with their sheep.
I wish I could go and find out for myself what really transpired last Friday, only I have no clue as to how to find Khirbet al-Makhul on the map. Too bad Japan has not yet printed a map of Khirbet al-Makhul as well.
Between you and me, there’s another thing I don’t know: Why am I discussing international law with the ICRC? I know very little about them, true enough, but aren’t they something like an international ambulance service? I don’t know, but I guess they know better what they’re doing and who they are. And so I ask ICRC if they would allow me to join them next time they’re going somewhere, and I also inform them that I would be very pleased if I could see what they’re doing from the moment of conception to the moment of completion.
They reply in the positive and now we are all happy.
The ICRC is one thing, diplomats are another. How do foreign diplomats, who are here for a short duration of service, even know where places like Khirbet al-Makhul are? I was born here, grew up here, and I never heard of Khirbet al-Makhul. How come they did?
Just out of curiosity, I ask an Israeli military officer for comments, and he tells me that there is an “old custom” of European diplomats who join up with leftist activists of all kinds on a regular basis and that they plan and plot their next moves together.
If this is true it sheds an interesting light on the world of European Mid East diplomacy.
***
I decide to try to discover the hidden world of diplomats.
The naïve man I am, I call the French Embassy and Consulate in Israel requesting an appointment with Marion, and could they please give me the French government’s official comments on this story?
Did you ever try to squeeze a response out of French diplomats?
Ain’t that easy.
Responding to my request, I’m told by the French authorities that I would be called back within an hour and be given a government-approved reaction.
Within one hour. As you might have guessed, in the diplomatic world of the French variety one hour means more than just one hour. It means, if you like in “German exact”: not now, not ever.
And so, since the phone does not ring, I come up with a new scheme: Diplomats are a tough nut to crack, for they are trained in the ways of evading the truth, but if it’s true that diplomats and left activists are working hand in hand,
why not penetrate some human rights organization and find the answers to my questions on my own?
Which of the human rights organizations I should choose is a different question. There are so many anti-Israeli groups within Israel that it’s not that simple to choose the best one. I go by the alphabet. B’Tselem, an Israeli-left NGO starts with B and is quite well known. I call them and share with them my most urgent personal need: I want to participate in one of their activities. A lady at the organization, named Sarit, soon contacts me and suggests that I join a man named Atef Abu a-Rub, a researcher for B’Tselem, on his next assignment: illegal home demolitions by the IDF.
Great. I call Atef and we make the arrangements to meet each other in Jenin, where he’s located, in two days.
Jenin! Wow!
If I may say so, I feel really good about myself. I’m going to infiltrate the world of NGOs, none of them will know who I, Tobi the German, really am, and I’m going to find stuff nobody knows. I am, get a hold of this, a secret service man. When I’m done here, I’ll teach the FBI, the CIA, the Shabak, and the Mossad what secret service really means!
I take a shot of Scotch whisky, those damn Scots know how to make good drinks, and feel in heaven.
Whisky goes well with – sorry for not being PC here – ladies of the night. I didn’t find the dead Rahav, so let me go for a living whore.
Gate Thirty-Three
Time to relax: pamper yourself with the ladies of the night or watch faithful housewives in the zoo.
KDOSHA IS THE HEBREW WORD FOR “FEMININE HOLINESS,” WHILE KDESHA IS the word for a “female prostitute.” These two words are very close and they share the same root. Rabbis don’t like this but God, whose mother tongue is Hebrew, seems to.
The holy whores, if you ever feel the need to spend some time in their company, call the dirtiest and ugliest of Tel Aviv streets their home, right by the African illegals.
The first two I see are fat white blondes, of Putin land, and they communicate with each other in Russian. I stop by their “store” and one of them asks me if I want to pee. I ask how much? She says: Free. Pee is free.
I keep on walking, in search of holy local ladies. Sorry, blondes I have enough of elsewhere.
Passing by a couple of expensive new vans, I see a lady who strikes me as local and I say hi to her and wish her a great night ahead. She ignores me, as if I were one of Jericho’s dead. Sacred ladies are not that easy.
I keep on walking. And walking. And walking.
I notice a sex shop that has very interesting operating hours: it’s closed on the Sabbath. Must be operated by some rabbi.
Yes. The ground I’m walking on is holy.
I make a U-turn and notice that the local sacred whore who wouldn’t talk to me before is now schmoozing with another angel of the night. I see them looking at me, and I walk over to them.
The new lady asks: “What are you doing here?”
In search of the good life.
“This is good life? In this place?”
Is it the bad life here . . . ?
“Whoever comes here most likely doesn’t have a good life . . .”
And how’s your life?
“Thanks be to the Lord, thanks be to the Lord!”
Blessed be the Lord?
“Yes.”
This whore talks better than a rabbi!
Are you Israeli?
“Yes. And you? You look like a tourist.”
No, I’m Israeli. How is work going?
“Well, those who take care of themselves are doing well.”
How long have you been working here?
“We have been here a long – a very long – time!”
Is it frightening to spend the nights on the street?
“How about crossing the street, any street. Is that not frightening? We look after ourselves. We have knives, tear gas. We take good care of ourselves.”
Where do you “perform”?
Pointing to a building nearby: “In the rooms inside there. There are rooms upstairs, downstairs, everywhere.”
What’s your rate?
“It depends. It starts at one-hundred shekel, if we stay in the client’s car. After that it goes up.”
The First Lady now intervenes: “It’s like a meter in a taxi. The figure goes up and can reach as much as a thousand shekels.”
Second lady: “It depends on the client. We look at him, at his face, and we make up the price depending on what we think we can get out of him.”
You see a man, judge him on the spot, and come up with a price instantly?
“There’s no other way!”
They should work in the jewelry business; that’s how they decide on prices.
Are most of the clients Israeli? I ask.
“No. I prefer the Israelis, but most of them are tourists from overseas.”
First Lady: “We are like food for the men. They need us, they must have us.”
Do you have Haredi clients as well?
Second lady: “Many!”
First Lady: “Hasidic Jews, they are the best!”
Why?
Second lady: “They finish the fastest. They don’t make problems. And whatever you tell them is holy for them! They accept what we say to them as if our words were written in the Holy Bible!”
Yep. Religious Jews know holiness when they see it!
Who is the largest segment of your clientele?
“The largest segment are Jews. The Jewish people (not just Israelis) are the majority of our clients. Hasidic Jews, criminal Jews – ”
First Lady: “All of them, they come to us! We are their food!”
Do Palestinian men come here too?
Second Lady: “Of course.”
Do you mind if the men are Jews or Arabs?
First Lady: “Look: I’m a Bedouin, how could I discriminate against Palestinians?”
Oh God in heaven! This holy lady of the night might be from Khirbet al-Makhul!
Second Lady: “The most important thing is that the man be a good human being.”
First Lady: “When I see Russians, for example, I prefer not to go with them. They drink too much alcohol and they don’t reach orgasmic climax. With Ethiopians there are also problems: they like to put their hands all over. The ones I like the most are Ashkenazi Jews. They are quiet, they are cute. I like them.”
How many Jewish whores are there around?
Second lady: “A lot.”
First Lady: “Sex has nothing to do with religion. Sex has no faith.”
You are a Bedouin. Does your family know you’re doing this?
“They don’t have to know.”
Second lady: “Do you tell your family everything?”
Do you live by yourself or do you have families of your own?
Second Lady: “I live with a man, my mate.”
Does he mind what you’re doing?
“He is a Haredi Jew.”
Does he know what you are doing . . . ?
“That’s how we met!”
Wow!
“He lives a double life: outside he puts on those black clothes of the Haredi, with his shtreimel on, but inside the house he is normal. Really normal.”
First Lady: “This country is a beautiful country. Everything you can think of, you’ll find in this country. I was a special education teacher – ”
How did you go from that to here . . . ?
“How? On a bus!” (She giggles.)
How did you two start with prostitution?
Second lady: “Drugs. I started taking drugs, and then I had to do some prostitution. My family threw me out of the house and so I started working here. Thank the Lord, today I don’t do any drugs. I’m a good girl now.”
First Lady: “My family tried to force me to marry an old man, to be his third wife. I ran away!”
What is the worst part of working here?
Second Lady: “All kinds of crimes. Burglary, violence.”
First Lady: “The other day I
was thrown out of a car, after an hour inside it – ”
Second Lady: “I was with a man in a car, and suddenly two other men came out of the trunk. They hit me so hard, I almost died. I was taken to the hospital.”
First Lady: “Every day when I get out of the house I don’t say, ‘God, make me earn a lot of money.’ I say: ‘God, please help me come back home safely.’”
Second Lady: “Every day, before I leave the house I say the biblical verse: ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is One.’” (By tradition, this is uttered by people who face death.)
In case you didn’t get it, my dear, these are the whores of Israel, praying whores!
Second Lady: “In the last few years, our lives have become much more dangerous.”
How so?
First Lady: “Because of the Sudanese.”
Second Lady: “The Sudanese, and the other blacks here.”
First Lady to Second Lady: “Be careful that they don’t hear you!”
Second Lady: “Bitches, all of them!”
What are the Sudanese doing to you, that you feel so strongly about them?
Second Lady: “They are not cultured people.”
First Lady: “I don’t blame them – ”
Second Lady: “They use force against us – ”
First Lady: “If you take Queen Victoria and put her here, under the same conditions, having no job, she would be behaving just like them! It has nothing to do with their race, or their color, but with their dire conditions.”
Tell me, ladies: What are your dreams?
First Lady: “My dream is that all the Sudanese fly out of here.”
Second Lady: “To have a home that’s mine.”
First Lady: “There is no path to happiness, unless you are happy with what you have.”
You should join the Philosophy Department of Tel Aviv University. You’ll be the best professor and you’ll make tons of money . . .
Catch The Jew! Page 26