Wikipedia: Glover-Archbold Community Garden

Outside of my topic but, I realized the wonderful gardens near my house have no wikipedia page of their own. I did not try to publish, but here is what I've put together:

Summary

The Glover-Archbold Community Garden is an approximately 3 acre plot of land in N.W. Washington D.C. which is divided into smaller plots used by local gardeners.  The land is leased from the National Park Service (NPS) and comes under the jurisdiction of Rock Creek Park.  

History

The Glover Archbold Community Garden was created during World War II. At the time American citizens were encouraged to grow their own vegetables, in what were known as Victory gardens.  Since then, local families have used the gardens to grow their own food. [1]

Garden Specifics

The Garden is located at 42^nd St and New Mexico Ave NW in the Glover Park neighborhood. It is is surrounded on three sides by Rock Creek Park.  The land is moderately hilly and open to full sun.[2]

The 2.7 acre Garden is divided into 150 25x25’ plots, making it the second largest community garden in Washington, D.C. [3]

Individual plots are enclosed with fencing to protect crops from deer.  Gardeners share a tool shed, compost heap and seating areas.  A large variety of vegetables and flowers are grown in the Garden, all of which are required to be grown organically.

Current Organization/Membership

The garden is run by the Glover Park Community Garden Association (GPCGA) which holds leadership elections each year.  Dino Kraniotis is currently Garden Manager and President of the GPCGA. The GPCGA and the NPS set rules for gardeners, who must apply for membership. (There is currently a waiting list of about 70 people.)[4]

Recent News

In the spring of 2012, there have been reports of missing daffodils, peonies, and hydrangeas from the gardens. It is believed to be the same person that has stolen from the garden for the past four years but has not been caught.  [5]

References

[1]WETA Neighborhoods, Premiere Date 6/30/2006

[2] Christopher Jones, “Glover Park Community Webpage Added” Glover Park website, Retrieved 6/23/12

[3] Community Garden Census, Fall 2010, published by the DC Field to Fork Network, p. 14

[4] “Glover Archbold Community Garden”  Field to Fork Network website, Retrieved 6/23/12

[5] The Washington Post, published 6/12/2012, Adrian Higgins, “Beware the D.C. Garden Thief, Still at Large”

How to Make an "Israeli Salad"

It is really called that; image search the name and you will find something very specific. I’m grateful to this salad for making it ok to throw out the boring lettuce filler and just giving us the good stuff.

This refreshing salad is often eaten with breakfast (not sausage and pancakes! But soft sour cheese, fresh pita, and egg.) It can also be put inside any pita sandwich. And it goes great with a dinner of chicken schnitzel, or really, anything.

First assemble the necessary ingredients.

You will need:

·         1 ripe tomato

·         1 cucumber (or two of the great crispy small ones)

·         Half an onion, red or yellow

·         1 tablespoon chopped parsley

·         1 teaspoon olive oil

·         2 teaspoons lemon juice

·         Salt and pepper to taste

Next, dice the vegetables into small pieces. Try to make them consistent sizes. Drop them in a lidded container. (You’ll need the lid later.)

Chop the parsley and toss into the container.

Now drizzle the lemon juice, olive oil, atop the vegetables.

Sprinkle the salt and pepper on top of everything.

Close the lid on the container with all of your salad ingredients inside.

Give the whole thing a good shake! You want the parsley and the dressing to become interspersed with the vegetables, making your salad juicy.

Open up the container and enjoy the citrusy fresh smell and the lovely interplay of colors

Transfer to a serving dish (or not), eat and enjoy!

Once you master this (very difficult) salad, feel free to add in a few variations. Colorful bell peppers, feta cheese, chopped pickles, garlic, or mint. Your creation will still be considered an Israeli salad. 

"If you were a fruit...what would you be?"

When I was a kid in WV, my school mates and I liked to ask each other this important question of identity. My answer was always “a strawberry!”  Small and sweet, cute and bright!  I never once heard someone call themselves a “prickly pear,” which is a term often used to describe native born Israelis.  The Hebrew word is “sabra.” The sabra fruit has a sweet soft interior, if you can get past the tough and prickly hide. 

The trick is getting past it. American tourists usually gasp “Israelis are so rude!” at some point during their visit. They had to learn the hard way that standing politely in line to buy tomatos at the shuk was not going to get them anything but a looong wait. They are shocked to find that the customer is  NOT always right. They’re bewildered when asking “how are you” results in a long diatribe of misery - they have to adjust their ideas on boundaries.  And they have to deal with impatience, line-cutters, and really aggressive driving.

Then there was me, the unassuming strawberry who always picked her words carefully so as not to offend or create confrontation. More than once I assumed annoyance in the simple question, “Are we leaving now?” and responded indignantly.  I had to get used to raised voices.

Before I knew Hebrew, I couldn’t gauge the severity of an exchange by the verbiage used. I just heard  exasperation.  It happened often with Z and his mother. But soon after (or between) a shouting match, they’d be laughing or mom would be asking how much sugar to put in his tea.  For mom and son, rudeness was a form of affection.

That’s not uncommon in Mediterranean culture. Ever seen Moonstruck or My Big Fat Greek Wedding? You’ll recognize the drama that goes on in these deeply loyal families. And I think that’s where the sabra’s softness comes in.

Despite a NY cut-the-crap attitude, a sense of family unites the people in this tiny country; and they won’t hesitate to treat a stranger as family with an invitation for a meal.  Once at the table, the stranger will begin to see that for all the bluster, Israelis have a sensitive side. So many times I was asked, “So what do you think of Israel? Do you like it here? It’s beautiful, right?” in a casual tone that ached for a positive response.  But no matter what you respond, you’ll be invited back again. That’s how easy it is to make a friend for life.

For Z’s part, when he arrived in the U.S. he was caught off guard by people smiling "good morning!" on the sidewalk. After the weirdness wore off, he enjoyed the friendliness. But he missed the random friends and family that would show up uninvited on the doorstep on a Saturday and linger for hours over coffee and sunflower seeds. Three years later, he loves America but the sense of isolation remains. He has moments of longing for his “tribe.”

As for me, I still don’t know how to let it all hang out; but I realized I’d rather forgo a random hello in the street for the knowledge that someone I met yesterday would be there in an instant for me tomorrow.

I’ll never be a sabra, I'm a strawberry all the way. But these days I'm a bit more difficult to bruise.

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Playing Devil's Advocate

When writing about Israel, I think it’s important to show some awareness of the controversy that surrounds the country, even when the blog focus is not political (if that’s even possible when it comes to Israel.)

Various entities have sought to boycott Israel in protest of their policies toward the Palestinians. While I do not support all of Israel’s actions, and I “get” the opposition (former Al-Jazeera employee here) I developed a distaste for the boycott movements. They often seemed to be a one sided push for a cause-du-jour, without an accompanying appreciation for the full scope of the situation.  

There's a chance I'm biased due to my Israeli partner in life. All I know is that I've heard endless amounts of arguments from both sides, and each make sense in their own way. Here I shall take on the role of boycott supporter:

I am calling for a blanket boycott of Israel. By that I mean popular musical acts should not perform there, and super markets should not sell products that are manufactured in Israel. This would also include an academic boycott of Israeli universities, scholars, and cultural institutions.

Israeli policies in the occupied West Bank and towards the Gaza Strip harm Palestinians, whose movements and access to the outside world are limited. Disproportionate use of force by the Israelis against their neighbors is not acceptable, nor is the continued expansion of Jewish settlements on occupied land. The “Separation Wall” is offensive and racist and should be torn down.  Until Israel shows a real commitment towards respecting the Palestinians and honoring their right to an independent state, I call for this boycott.

Many young Israelis are offended when the likes of Elvis Costello and Roger Waters boycott their country. They cite Israel’s contributions to the larger world in the form of scientific and technical innovation and discovery, and their expert medical aid in areas of natural disaster. My response is that all of this educated intelligence and goodwill should first be put towards addressing the injustices perpetrated by their own government. So many rights don’t correct a big wrong.

Israelis will protest that they have been wronged, that they are continually under siege despite efforts for peace (the treaty with Egypt, returning the Gaza Strip to Palestinian control). But the fact is that they still have the upper hand and they still control the West Bank. Only when they are on equal ground (figuratively and literally!) with the Palestinians should the boycott be lifted.

This boycott will also remind Israel that they are not immune to international law. The International Court of Justice ruled in 2004 that the Separation Wall was illegal.  Israelis defend the wall with statistics that show suicide bombings have all but disappeared in their country since it was erected. However, changes in policy that addressed the root problem could have been just as effective and much less harmful to those on the other side. 

Some say it is hypocritical to single out tiny Israel for boycotts and abuse while other governments in the region commit atrocious human rights offenses against their own citizens. Israel claims to be the only democracy in the Middle East, and a bastion of Western values.

First, Israel may be tiny, but it has a tremendous effect on other countries’ foreign policy. As an American, I know that our nation has attracted the ire of many Arab countries for our one sided support of Israel. America also spends a disproportionate amount of foreign aid on little Israel. With such security and financial investments, I think we have a right to an opinion and a say in how Israel conducts itself.

The fact that Israel is a democracy only adds to the argument for a boycott. The citizens actually have a say in the policies of the government. A boycott is a non-violent way of pressuring the people to pressure their officials. As far as Western values, it is time for Israel to show a genuine commitment to those values and to lead the region by example. In the meantime, we shall boycott.

About

At the age of 9, Viva Green became an urban transplant into the wild, wonderful and unfamiliar soils of West Virginia. Family financial woes had forced the move.

At the age of 24, Viva found herself in another wild new place; Israel. This time a relationship had inspired her to pull up tender roots and become a transplant yet again.

In between these two moves, Viva developed a love for writing, art and travel. She earned a BFA in Photography, visited Europe and South America, and worked at an Arabic news station before landing in Israel.

Currently Viva lives in Washington, D.C., with her Israeli husband, works in health communications, and writes this travel & photo blog based on her experiences in Israel, from the perspective of a perpetual non-native. 

"Are you Crazy?"

I heard that a lot from my American compatriots when I announced I was moving to Israel. Another common line was “Just don’t get on any busses!”  My husband-to-be (whom I will refer to as “Z”) assured me that life in Tel Aviv was not scary at all, and that I would in fact be very safe.  I was 24 years old with a bug for travel (and hearts in my eyes!) and found it very easy to believe him. 
So who had the more valid reaction? The Americans, or the native?

The  violent and the tragic fill our TV and computer screens from morning to night.  A typical American vision of Israel is of a chaotic place where rockets and busses explode. This is what they have seen on the news.  And though it may not be on a daily, or even monthly basis, such things have happened (and still do, depending on the location).

 How accurate was Z’s feeling of not being in danger? Could this be a sort of blindness from staring into the sun too long? Or did he just know that in Israel, serious measures had been put in place to protect him? When Z first visited Washington, D.C. he was nervous. He eyed the long lines of tourists crowding around the museums (with no security in sight) and thought, “this doesn’t look good.” When he found out civilians can carry guns, he was shocked. He actually felt safer in his home town of Tel Aviv.

But Tel Aviv is known as a bubble.  Once inside, the rest of the country’s troubles seem a million miles away (all the more odd considering Israel’s tiny size.)  I fell under this drowsy sort of outlook myself. While on a short trip to W.V. in December 2008, a war broke out between Israel and Gaza. Rockets were landing within 20 miles of Tel Aviv. My exasperated father pointed out that was like someone shooting missiles at us from Winchester, VA (a town we drove to every day for work.) I admitted that would be a scary situation. And yet I was not afraid to fly back to Tel Aviv. 

For me, it took some getting used to the sight of green-clad soldiers with rifles slung across their backs munching a falafel pita on the sidewalk or sitting sleepily on the bus.  And what a pain to have to open my bag every time I entered Dizengof Center Mall or the Mega Supermarket. But quickly, the oddity of this way of life faded as an acceptance set in that this was just the reality that kept things in check.  I took the bus to work every day and the most panic I felt was when a driver tried to explain a fare change to me in Hebrew.

My conclusion? No, Israel wasn’t as scary as my friends had imagined. The idea of the total war zone where one risks their life every day is no more accurate than the picture some conjured that I’d be living in the middle of the desert riding on a camel.

But their fears shouldn’t be discounted. The volatility of the region is never far from an Israeli’s mind, even as they get up and go to work, shop and make dinner.  And still I felt safer strolling in Tel Aviv than I do in D.C., where I’m much more likely to be mugged. There, I knew someone was looking out as if their life depended on it. 

Hailing from West Virginia, I should have known there is always more to a place than the stereotypes suggest. But after my foray in Israel, I sometimes wonder how much of my own ideas about the rest of the world are skewed?