woensdag, december 19, 2007


It's our bulbul

Israeli society in the coming days will be pushed to decide what will
become the national bird. Finally, we must address a truly significant question.
But our indecision is hard to comprehend: Of the 10 contestants who made it to the final round, it is clear which is the winning bird, the one who represents
Israeliness in all its glory.
The bulbul, of course. It suits us because of its name - stolen from the
Arabic like humus and falafel, which became the "Israeli national dish" exported
in our name - and because of its distribution: It is present everywhere in
Israel. It flies in circles and wanders around, but remains local. And also
because of the noise that it generates without interruption.
And if that is not enough, the bulbul, unlike any other bird, does not
limit itself to chirping and dancing as a form of communication. In other words,
a handshake and polite greeting is not its style. Two bulbuls that meet are so
overcome by affection that they trample each other's heads, touch, taunt each
other, and jump around as if they ate from the same mess kit for years. In
general, the bulbul's posse comes before everything. In veteran couples they
settle on branches of a loquat tree. Representatives of each sex or a pair of
same-sexed bulbuls are typically monogamous, but the important thing is that the gang is all there and that they are never alone.
Those who object to the choice of the bulbul because of the sexual
innuendos associated with its name (slang for "penis" in Hebrew) are missing the main point. That folksy usage of the unpretentious bird's name to describe the male genital organ proves the extent to which the bird is loved by the masses.
This is not a crude or insulting expletive, but a childish term of affection
that illustrates how Israelis relate to themselves: oversized, pampered infants
There is no doubt that the bulbul is ours: loud, quick to anger, lavishing
gregarious affection, and in love with his friends. He makes noise as he brags
to his pals about his exploits, and calls himself affectionate names. He doesn't
stop singing even as he is joyfully robbing fruit from others in true bulbul

By Aviram Golan - Haaretz Com.


In Iraq where I grew up we called a little boy's weenie a 'bulbul'.
Here in Israel it is called that way as well, Iraqi Jew, that's why it is such a funny article ;-)
What about an ostrich?
No-no-no, Flappie, a Bulbul it is - Ostriches are reserved for the Dutch ;-)
Impossible Tse, the things do not belong to our native fauna nor has global warming lately been of any help.
What about a stork as our national bird?
O o Den Haag

Ik zou best nog wel een keertje net als vroeger
In Moerwijk willen wonen
Na't eten een partijtje voetbal in de tuin
De ouders langs de lijn
En in december met de hele buurt op jacht
Om kerstbomen te rausen
Op oudejaarsdag fikkie stoken
Vooral die autobanden rookten fijn

Ik zou best nog wel een keertje met die ouwe
Naar ADO willen kijken
In't Zuiderpark de lange zij, een warme worst
Supporters om je heen
Lekker kankeren op Theo van den Burch
En die lange van Vianen
Want bij elke lage bal dook die eikel
Er steevast over

O, o, Den Haag
Mooie stad achter de duinen
De Schilderswijk, de Lange Poten
En het Plein
O, o, Den Haag
Ik zou met niemand willen ruilen
Meteen gaan huilen
Als ik geen Hagenees zou zijn

Ik zou best nog wel een keertje net als vroeger
Een nachie willen stappen
Op m'n Puch een wijffie halen
En daarna dansen in de Maradon
En na afloop op het Rijswijkseplein
Een harinkje gaan happen
De dag erna een kater dus naar Scheveningen
Lekker bakken in de zon


Ik zou best nog wel een keertje ..
Ach wat leg ik toch te dromen
Want Den Haag is door de jaren zo veranderd
Voor mij toch veel te vlug joh
Dat nieuwe Babylon moest dat er trouwens eigenlijk
Nou wel zo nodig komen?
Zo komt die oievaar op de Vijverberg
Dus never nooit meer terug ho
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