Gal Maestro Interview - American Friends of Neve Shalom/Wahat al

Gal Maestro, classical contrabassist
By Deb Reich
Gal Maestro, going on 17, contrabassist and pianist, is a music major in the eleventh grade at
Thelma Yellin High School of the Arts in Givatayim. Her first love was jazz, but "women are not
taken seriously here in jazz unless they
are singers," she says, stating it as a fact.
She is not the first woman to say so and
will doubtless not be the last. "Women
could have a beneficial impact on jazz in
Israel but they have to want it very
badly," Gal says thoughtfully. "There is
something very masculine about the way
jazz is done here." This is hardly
surprising, since women in jazz
elsewhere have been known to voice
similar sentiments, and considering the
macho factor in Israeli culture generally.
After some soul-searching, Gal switched
her major to classical music and has been
very happy with her decision. "Brahms,
Bach, Mahler, Beethoven," she says, a bit
reluctantly, when asked to name some of
her current most favorite composers, as
if she prefers not to name any favorites
at all – just give her the entire classical
repertoire and let it be.
Gal came to the Neve Shalom / Wahat al
Salam Primary School in third grade
when she was eight years old and
graduated in 2003. Her parents, Talma
and Gil, were never overly pleased with the usual educational alternatives available to the
children of Carmei Yosef, a Jewish village about a fifteen-minute drive from NSWAS where they
have lived for the last 17 years with Gal and her brother Shai, now 21. Local schools had
problems with violence and Talma, looking for other options for Shai and Gal, finally decided to
establish a new school right in her own community, but it didn't really get off the ground. When
that experiment fell apart, the next thing to try was the bilingual, binational school on the hill
near Latrun.
Ibrahim's darbuka, Mila's pictures of Mozart
Gal's mom, determined to wrestle fate into submission, persuaded another seven Carmei Yosef
families to register their daughters at NSWAS with Gal, and they rode to school together every
day on a minibus. Now Gal begins to remember some of what those days were like, and
perhaps it is only natural that the first memory to surface is about music. "I loved darbuka (a
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type of drum) with Ibrahim (Hatib), and the rhythm exercises he did with us," says Gal
nostalgically, responding to a question about outstanding memories. "And music with Mila,
too… She used to give us riddles to solve: Who was Mozart?, things like that, with pictures.
And I always wanted to know more. We played the recorder, too… I guess they do that at a lot
of schools, but I really enjoyed it. I had an advantage because my parents had started me on
private music lessons when I was in first grade."
Hezi and the advertising project
"I remember a project with Hezi (Shuster), about creating advertisements. A group of us, Arabs
and Jews, came here to the Carmei Yosef supermarket and created an advertisement; it was SO
cool. And for our final video project, we did a video clip with the song "Salaam." We shot some
of the clip at the seaside, all of us wearing white shirts, I think it was at Palmachim or Nitzanim.
They brought us ice cream… And we shot some fisfusim [out-takes], sitting in the water with our
clothes on. We filmed ourselves dancing in the fields near NSWAS. The burrs and the stubble
hurt our feet but we did it anyway."
It sounds like a lot of fun. "Oh yes," agrees Gal, thinking back. "So many things are starting to
come to mind now that I think about it…”
So what other fond memories of those days at NSWAS are popping up now? "I remember that
in fifth grade, the boys all got dressed up in girls' clothing for the year-end performance. They
thought it was such a great idea…" She laughs now at her mental image of the boys in dresses.
And what else? "Playing outside at recess!" (Some things breach all cultural boundaries.)
Renewing the ties
And who were her friends? "Back then, the girls from Carmei Yosef, first of all. And a boy from
Moza Ilit, Yonatan, who is at high school with me now at Thelma Yellin – he's also a music
major. And Mai (Shbeta), daughter of Eyas and Evi, was a good friend. Her family took her to
live in Switzerland for a while in the middle of elementary school and I went there twice to visit
her. About six months ago, we renewed our friendship after a lapse of some years, and now
we're really tight again."
What happened six months ago?
"Well, Yonatan (the boy from Moza) stayed in touch all along with the kids who live at
NSWAS… Then one day they were all together and they phoned me from there, and somehow
the circle closed and it all came back and we started spending time together again."
Girls who play the contrabass are not a common phenomenon. How did Gal come to be playing
one? "I started with an electric bass, playing jazz, in ensembles. Then I transitioned to
contrabass and switched later from a jazz major to classical music." She also plays the piano,
although currently, she's taking a break from piano lessons. "I play piano just to enjoy myself,"
she says now, with a smile of profound satisfaction. Gal clearly has an authentic love
relationship with her instruments.
This seems only natural in a musical family like hers. Her mother also plays classical piano, and
her brother Shai is a pianist who performs in a trio with a bass player, also Israeli, and an
American drummer. He was awarded a scholarship to Berklee College of Music in
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Massachusetts but he elected to stay in Israel to finish high school here instead, and now he's
too busy playing music to go to Boston. "He's very talented," says Gal proudly. So… is he a role
model? "I don't like the notion of 'role model,'" she replies tartly. "But he's a very big influence
on me, yes."
Bob Dylan, via Bob Mark: Blowin' in the Wind
"Evidently it was time for me to reconnect with Neve Shalom," notes Gal, "because just before
you phoned me to set up this interview, I ran into Etty (Edlund) at the Oud Festival in
Jerusalem. The [nationwide teachers'] strike has given me a lot of free time. I also went to a
performance of Arab music at Beit Mizrach Maarav (East West House) in Jaffa, where they have
a repertory company with flutes and they play very nice ethnic music. The décor looks a little
like the interior of a mosque; very nice."
Music class at the Primary School
Suddenly she remembers something
omething else. "Bob (Mark) – do you kn
know Bob? – Bob taught us
English. I remember that he would bring a guitar to class and teach us songs, and I still
remember every one of the songs he taught us. A couple of years ago, I heard Bob Dylan's
"Blowin' in the Wind" somewhere and I realized that I had learned that song from Bob (Mark),
in English class at Neve Shalom. It is a very, very special song for me." (The interviewer, who
came of age listening to "Blowin' in the Wind," is partial to the Peter, Paul & Mary cover
version.)
"My English was fairly good compared to the group," Gal says now, "and Bob would let the kids
whose English was already quite good leave the classroom to do independent projects together.
We prepared performances in English. We also wrote and produced a newspaper. We took that
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very seriously and worked really hard on it. We used to have editorial meetings right here in
this house!" Clearly the independent study option achieved its objectives.
"Raida (Aiashe-Khatib) also taught us English. I remember that once, when I was in third grade
or maybe fourth, my sister was on an extended trip to New Zealand and our whole family went
there for a month to visit her. Raida said that, since I would be missing English class for an
entire month, she wanted me to keep a diary of the trip – in English. Maybe she didn't think I'd
take it seriously, but I did. Every day I made sure to sit down and write something – you know,
beginning with 'Dear Diary.' My writing really improved but I couldn't understand a word
anyone said in New Zealand, because of the accent!"
On a recent visit to NSWAS, Gal met Raida and they started talking about the diary. Raida
hunted it up from the archives and gave it back to Gal, who had a very enjoyable time reading
through the impressions of her younger self in a strange country, nearly ten years ago now.
"In fact," says Gal, "I got really good Arabic and English there [at the NSWAS primary school]. I
think maybe we were less well prepared in math and science, but I easily caught up on anything
I'd missed when I got to junior high school."
I could have talked more Arabic!
And then there is the issue of a Jewish child's learning Arabic in an environment that aspires to
be bilingual but, in practice, tends to favor Hebrew. Gal seems to think that the importance of
fluency in Arabic could have been communicated more powerfully: "I could have talked more
Arabic," she asserts now, "only no one asked me to." While it is hard to believe that "no one
asked" Gal to speak Arabic, it is certainly conceivable that the significance of the language issue
can simply go over the children's heads. Sometimes even the most important messages we think
we are sending our children may not always be getting through.
"I've become very good friends with Faten Zinati, who was my Arabic teacher [at NSWAS],"
relates Gal. "At Thelma Yellin, I opted for an Arabic track, but I dropped out. They teach it in a
horrible way – it's all literary (classical) Arabic, with no conversation.
"I felt that I was losing my Arabic… but then this year I spent four days with Mai (Shbeta) at
Succoth and at the end I was really speaking again. It really came back to me," she says happily.
"It's too bad the educational system in this country does not demand that we learn Arabic really
well; if it did, we would." Amen.
Gal had Arab as well as Jewish friends at NSWAS. She mentions Nadine (Nashef), whose
mother Reem is a teacher there. "Nadine came to our school in the 5th grade after studying at an
American school, and her Hebrew was really weak. When she got there, we really wanted to be
friends but we couldn't talk!! So I talked to her in Hebrew and she spoke to me in English. She
used to send me letters in English…. I still have the box with all the letters from the kids. My
Arab friends wrote to me in Hebrew and signed their names in Arabic. This was only girls,
writing to girls."
Who else were you friendly with, besides Nadine? "Omaima was a good friend then, and there
was Nibal, and Alaa, and Mai Shbeta. Plus my friends from Carmei Yosef."
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Walking the path less traveled
Carmei Yosef is a moshav (semi-cooperative, rural Jewish community) of about 400 families,
some 2,000 residents all told.
What is it like for children like Gal here in Carmei Yosef, the interviewer inquires, who attend
primary school in NSWAS?
Gal thinks back. "I brought Omaima (an Arab friend) here once, for a Young Maccabi activity I
was leading for local children. They did not treat her nicely… When I mention NSWAS here
they always say, 'Oh, the school with the Arabs.' I'm not into proselytizing anymore… But you
know what? The people here who talk like that about NSWAS also say the same kinds of things
about Thelma Yellin [a predominantly Jewish high school of the arts], because it's also different.
This is your average moshav. We used to be quite a few girls from here who went to school at
NSWAS. We used to speak out when people here criticized it. But now… we don't. The other
girls and I are not in touch anymore. Since I began attending Thelma Yellin, I haven't been in
touch with the kids here any more. After I visited Neve Shalom the other day, I came home and
said to my mom that my childhood memories are really from there [NSWAS], not from here."
Seeing the world differently
Does Gal see the world differently as a result of her experiences at the NSWAS Primary School?
"First of all… yes! I don't think it's an accident that I ended up at Thelma Yellin High School.
That's also a very different kind of place…"
Are there any Arab students there? "Very few. There is one girl in the year behind me." This is, of
course, typical, since the Jewish and Arab schools systems in Israel remain almost entirely
separate.
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Is there anything Gal would change, if she could, about our school? "If I could change one thing,
it would be to have more Arabic!
"At Ramadan, the older we got, the more we became aware of its meaning. The Muslim girls
often fasted, and we Jewish girls would eat quietly somewhere, out of sight…. I remember
when Nibal began wearing a hijab (head scarf) in the 6th grade – suddenly there was this whole
religious thing - she could wear it and I couldn't. I felt left out!
"At the show we put on for our graduation, we had a script in both Arabic and Hebrew. That
was really special because we were really equal." What does that mean – really equal? "Instead
of the Arabs' having the advantage of knowing Hebrew better than we knew Arabic, now I
could stand there on the stage and talk in Arabic, too. Finally, equality!"
Birthday bus
Do you still remember getting on the minibus in the mornings to go to school? "Oh, yes! On my
birthday one year, the girls decorated the bus with ribbons. Dani was our driver, from Bekoa (a
nearby town). He always played Ofra Haza songs on the bus. I was the student in charge of
transportation…”
In charge of transportation? In what way?
"Like for notifying other students from Carmei Yosef about holiday schedules, delays, things
like that. Hezi was in charge of managing this. We would have songs to sing on the ride.
Sometimes there was candy, or games. We'd take Britney Spears songs and write our own words
to them – things like, "Our bus is the best!"
If this brings to mind a mental picture of a bunch of eight-, nine-, and ten-year-olds who are
happy to get on the bus and go to school in the morning - children for whom their school is a
positive part of their young lives – that's apparently a very accurate impression.
Gal still has a fondness for the NSWAS Primary School. Since the interview is taking place
during an extended teachers' strike in Israel, which is creating havoc with the academic year for
both teachers and students, today may not be the best time to ask Gal to sum up her feelings
about her years at the NSWAS Primary School. We try it anyway. "Well…" she says, closing her
eyes briefly and banishing the school strike from her mind, then looking straight at the
interviewer with a mischievous grin: "For a school… it's the greatest!"
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