It’s a con job, and it’s been going on for years now. Six years ago, when they tried to recruit me, it was South Africa. I’ve checked some Israeli boards; apparently they moved to the U.S.
I don’t know how many “entrepaneurs” are behind it. For all I know, it’s just the guy I met threw the classified ad. They buy paintings from some far-eastern sweatshop - probably retouched prints a la Thomas Kinkade - and “personalize” them. Then they hire a bunch of kids in their early twenties, fresh out of the army, struck with wanderlust and the need to make a few bicks before they go off to college. These kids are given some paintings (which, of course, they’re expected to pay for), told to buy a plane ticket, and are sent off to some friendly English speaking country.
Once there, it’s simple: they go house to house, following leads given to them by the “entrepaneur”, and try to pass themselves off as starving young art students, looking to sell some of their (or their friends’) original creations. Since most Israelis that age look like art students anyway, and since we’re good at projecting this outgoing earnestness, they actually get to sell some paintings. Occasionally, they make enough commissions to turn a profit; usually they end up calling their parents for airfare home. On the other hand, I’ve never before heard of any of them get in trouble with the law.
I can’t tell you about any drug connection, of course, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the more deperate ones started dealing some X on the side. It wouldn’t be the first time. The whole techno/rave/acid/whatever scene is very big in Israel, and occasionally it leaks over.
I have no explaination what they were doing in government installiations, but my guess is that they just followed some bad leads, poked around a bit too much. My countrymen, unfortunately, have a hard time taking “no” for an answer - the best way to get an Israeli to go somewhere is to tell him not to. But they’re not spies, they’re just… kids.
I’m thinking about calling Salon. Or maybe a real newspaper - one that bothers to do some research.