I
recently moved from Turkey to Israel to start teaching private English lessons
in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. So why did I move to Israel? Well, three things
happened in interesting timing: (1) my photojournalist boyfriend could no
longer enter Turkey, most likely due to the crackdown on press freedom, (2) my
residency permit was about to expire and I’d lost all motivation to pursue the
renewal process, and (3) while debating the merits of Amsterdam and Taipei, a
good friend invited me to watch his dog for a month in Tel Aviv. Quite simply, I
moved to Israel for the love of an adorable mutt: Oscar the dog!
Oscar
had won my heart months earlier when he flopped onto the floor for a belly rub.
I instantly melted like butter on a sweet potato. This dog evokes great
emotional intelligence, calm submission, and an immense sense of well-being. When
he rests his head on my knee, I feel his empathy for an emotion I was previously
unaware of feeling. He sends me good vibes when he licks my palms. Happy
endorphins wash my brain. As his nose traces the air for invisible smells, his
focus on the moment brings me inner peace. Wrestling and chasing other dogs, he
shows me how to play and have fun. What a happy go lucky pooch! I wondered
about the secrets to raising such a well-adjusted dog. I soon observed an
entire community with close bonds to Oscar --- friends, neighbors, and dog
walkers. I feel so much gratitude that I got an invite to dog sit in Tel Aviv.
I won an Oscar!
While
adjusting to Israel, I greatly enjoy comparing the lives of dogs in Istanbul
and Tel Aviv. Well, Istanbul accommodates cats far better than dogs. While
living in Istanbul, I walked Samba the Pomeranian and Morris the Pug whenever
their expat owners traveled out of town. Protecting them, I watched out for cat
claws and motorbikes on the sidewalks. Many Muslims expressed unease near the
dogs, but others eagerly approached them for photos. Some respected dogs as neighborhood
security. For example, at the end of each day, butchers tossed scraps of meat,
fat, and bones to the street dogs. Animal-loving Turks called Samba their lamb,
and offered him cheese and yoghurt. Unaccustomed to the pug face, some called
Morris ugly. Turkish dog owners would allow their dogs to wander off leash near
busy streets.
In
contrast, Tel Aviv honors dogs with urban green space, including promenades,
boardwalks, and parks. The urban plan designates open space for dogs to
exercise and play. My favorite places for dog walking include (1) Rothschild
Boulevard, (2) Meir Park on King George Street, and (3) Habima Square:
Rothschild
Boulevard feels designed for people to say hello to each other. The safe, open promenade
at the center of the road includes gnarled trees with twisted roots climbing up
the trunks, pedestrian paths, benches, bike lanes, cross walks, petanque
fields, small playgrounds, metal lounge chairs, wooden benches, and coffee
kiosks. Folks ride bikes, electric motorbikes, skateboards, and segways.
Parents push baby strollers while walking dogs. Caregivers slowly walk with
senior citizens. Classically, dogs pause to check each other out, giving people
a chance to start conversation. I handed out business cards to the more
gregarious dog lovers. Trashcans stocked with poop bags line the promenade. The
city facilitates dog owners doing the right thing and picking up after their
dogs.
Gan
Meir gifts dogs with soft dirt for digging, space for running off leash, and
water fountains and bowls. The park gives a sense of communal ownership of all
of the dogs. The variety of dog breeds, colors, and sizes astounds me, and it interests
me to observe how dogs behave with each other, claiming dominance with humping
and wrestling. I often study a Hebrew textbook while Oscar plays free, and I
can practice speaking Hebrew with the more patient Israelis. We can laugh about
the frolicking dogs kicking up dirt at us. This park definitely gives me a
sense of belonging as a tourist/local. Even better, whenever anyone asks why I
moved to Israel, I can credit Oscar.
Families
with young children play in the sunken garden at Habima Square in the daytime.
In the evenings skaters wearing bright blue lights race on the smooth concrete
surface. I like to bring my students to the wooden terrace for English lessons
while sitting with the dog and listening to classical music. We watch the
rollerbladers and bike riders circle around us. Oscar sometimes whines on the leash
so I let him loose to wander the cacti garden. I just watch out that he does
not dig up the flowerbeds. He returns to me when summoned in a joyful voice.
Each
day with dogs I return home feeling fulfilled. Thank you, Oscar the dog, for
introducing me to Tel Aviv. I look forward to many more walks with you.