A Mahjer Makes Aliyah

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Shavua Tov!

The strangest thing happened over Shabbat. David always fixes my Shabbat lights for me before candlelighting on Friday afternoons. First he fills seven little glass cups halfway with colored water, and the other half he fills with olive oil. Then he puts them on the candelabra, adds the wicks, and I'm ready to go. Usually the candles burn anywhere from four to six hours. This morning when we sat down to lunch around 11 AM, David noticed that one of the candles was still burning. It stayed lit until 11:30 - almost 16 hours!

That would seem to be almost impossible. What would keep that flame going for so long? It didn't have any more oil in it than any of the other candles, or for that matter, any more than it usually contained. How could it possibly have burned for so long?! Burning sixteen hours isn't even close to burning for eight days, but still ... very strange, indeed.

Today was also my husband's English birthday. Happy Birthday to David! We didn't do anything special. The two of us had Shabbat lunch at home alone, which is what he wanted, and then David took a long Shabbat nap while I went down to Penina's to play mahj. I came back in time to share Seudat Shlishi (the third meal) with him.

Mahj was really fun. It was also the second time this week we played. Thursday was the celebration of Israel's 60th birthday, and Yom Hatzmaut is a very important holiday for most Israelis (Hareidi Jews don't celebrate Israel Independence Day because they don't believe that we should be celebrating a state when 1) Moshiach hasn't yet come and 2) there's a secular government not based on Torah values. We personally celebrate because Jews have a homeland to come home to IN SPITE OF having a secular government. So David, Miryam, Shaya and I planned to go to Migron which is a settlement on the next hill from ours. It's basically home to about 60 families, most of them living in caravans (trailers). Migron is in the news frequently because the government is always threatening to dismantle it. Someone planned a whole day of festivities there, with moonwalks and activities for the kids, booths, speeches, the whole bit. They wouldn't let anyone drive up there because there's nowhere to park, so we went to the shopping area where the shuttle buses were leaving from. There were hundreds of people waiting for rides; families with strollers and a million kids with backpacks and coolers. After half an hour of milling around and not making it onto any of the buses, we finally left. We old folk just aren't up to
all that excitement anymore.

So we headed home, picked up Emma and some food we had waiting, and headed to Penina and Pinchus' where we were expected for a BBQ. Pinchus and David barbequed the chicken and we got the rest of the food ready. It was just like the 4th of July (although if it was really the 4th of July, I'd be sad that I wasn't celebrating it with my older son back in chutz l'aretz whose birthday happens to be on that day). After we cleaned up the tables, we women pulled out the mahj game, while the menfolk were at the next table playing Spades. Emma had fun playing with Choco, even though Choco wouldn't let Emma have one of the two rawhide bones I brought for them. We didn't come home until late that evening. What a fun day!

And tomorrow starts the work week. I have an office staff meeting at noon, and then another meeting with the fundraisers at 1 pm. Tomorrow's my day to work in the evening, but if I have to go in early I don't think I'll stay until 10 PM. I'm looking forward to Tuesday - there's an all day writer's conference in Bayit Vegan that I signed up for. I went to this last year and really enjoyed it. Plus - Leah, the woman who organizes it, puts out a Writer's Journal and I have two pieces that are being published in it. I can't wait to get my copy!

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

What a day! I'm emotionally and physically just plumb tuckered out.

David was told our car would be ready today - new windshield, new driver's door, plus all the things we needed to have done to pass inspection: new back bumper, new brakes, new battery. We also had a total tune-up and oil change. Then there was the cost to re-license it for another year, plus the inspection fee. PLUS - we had to pay the deductible on our insurance and supposedly it's our insurance company's obligation to recover that money from the guy who hit us. Total bill? Over 4000 shekels!! We weren't expecting that!

So we drove in together this morning in the rental car our insurance company has supplied us with and David dropped me off at a bus stop near where he works so I could catch either the #35 or the #11 into Givat Shaul for a doctor appointment. We left our house at 7:30 am and I didn't get to my 9:15 appointment until 9:25. I don't know where all the traffic came from but it was horrible; it took us over an hour to get into town. I rushed into the clinic only to wait over an hour until I was seen. Apparently they scheduled THREE people for 9:00 appointments and two of us for 9:15, and the doctor wasn't even up to the 9:00 appointments when I got there.

Yesterday morning I also left the house early (by bus) to get to a 10:00 therapy appointment, and didn't arrive until 10:15. The funny part was, the appointment was for today, not yesterday! I told them I didn't think I'd be able to make it because of my 9:15 appointment fairly far away but I didn't actually cancel it (because they told me to "try" to get there). So when I called them at 9:45 this morning to say I couldn't get there, the receptionist yelled at me and told me they were going to charge me for the appointment anyway. When I tried to explain my position, she just kept saying, "Ani lo mavina" meaning "I don't understand" (I use that phrase a lot). So that's another 75 wasted shekels.

By the time I got to work it was 11:30. I spent the next 5 1/2 hours sitting in front of the computer entering donations that had come in in April. I've been the only person there for the week before Pesach and the week since, and there's a HUGE backlog. Tefilla, the director of the department, was in today and she apologized a couple of time to me for having me do that kind of "grunt" work (should I have told her that I actually like doing it?). She told me that she has other plans for me that don't include data entry. Last week she spoke to me about taking over the office manager's job so she can concentrate on fundraising, but I know Bassya doesn't want to do that. She also wants me to work with the fundraisers by doling out who gets which donors and keeping them organized. On Sundays I'm going to work in the evenings when they're in the office making calls, which works out great for me because David has a shiur that he goes to on Sunday nights. Actually, I just found out that the shiur is for both men and women and I'd actually like to hear this rabbi speak, so I may have to work that out sometime.

Tefilla and Bassya are pretty laid back kind of people. There are three other young women and me (I'm young at heart) who work there, and everyone pretty much makes their own hours as long as the work gets done. I already told Tefilla that I wouldn't work on Thursdays. I really need a day to catch up on laundry and straightening up the house and getting ready for Shabbat. I love the job, though. My coworkers are great and the work is right up my alley.

I didn't get home until 7 tonight (long story having to do with waiting 45 minutes for a bus that never came) and for some reason I decided to call my old office manager at Aish. I rarely call Aish any more; I don't know why I decided to tonight except that I wanted to tell him I wrote my first Thank You donation letter today and started it off with "I hope this letter finds you and your family in the best of health" which is how he starts off every single letter he ever writes. I was going to tell him that he taught me well, but when I called I found out his wife, Shifra (my very good friend and longtime mahj partner), lost her father yesterday. And to make things worse, as she was checking in her luggage at the airport today to go to her hometown for the levaya (funeral), she got a call that her 16 year old, who's developmentally disabled and living in a group home, needed emergency hernia surgery. I felt so bad for her! We who have made aliyah know all too well the pain of not being able to be there for our loved ones or feeling like we need to be in two places at one time. Of course she had to be there for her son, and her mother understood. I called Shifra at her son's hospital room and we talked until it was time for them to take him down for surgery. The operation is only supposed to take an hour, so I'm going to call again before I go to bed. Bli ayin hara, the surgery should go well and have him feeling better quickly.

So, back to the car business. David had to lose a few hours pay when he took the paperwork to the garage after they towed the car in last week. The car rental place they sent him to wasn't easily accessible and he had to take a cab (the buses cost us practically nothing so this is probably the first cab either of us has taken since we moved here) to pick it up. So he missed several hours of work that day. Today he left work in the middle of the day to take the rental car back near the Old City and then take another cab into Talpiyot. There was a whole balagan with paying for the car because he didn't take a check with him (we've probably written 10 checks since we've moved here; everything comes off the credit card that gets paid off each month - as per bank rules) and the credit card company wouldn't let him put the whole amount on the card. He finally got all the financial stuff taken care of and went back to work. Except the car overheated on his way back! He called the garage and they told him to bring the car back tomorrow. David was ready to pull his hair out (the one or two that are left - sorry; couldn't resist).

You see, tonight started Yom Hazikaron (a holiday commemorating Israel's fallen soldiers and the victims of terror), and tomorrow night starts Yom Hatzmaut (a holiday much like the 4th of July, celebrating the state of Israel) - so David will have to get the car there first thing in the morning and probably wait until they can find out what's wrong with it. He left it at work and took a bus home tonight, so he's going to have to leave pretty early in the morning to get there when the garage opens. And he only works 5 hours tomorrow because of the holiday. When he doesn't work, he doesn't get paid. It's not fair that this kid negligently left the back doors of his truck unlatched which then crashed into our car - and he drives away while we have to suffer the lost wages, the time spent dealing with the garage and the insurance, and the outlay of cash that we may or may not be reimbursed for. Again, there's a lesson in this for us, but right now my head is spinning from exhaustion so I'll have to figure it out another time.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Just a quick note to let you know we're both feeling okay - no neck or back pain from the accident so far. Neither of us thought to take the camera down and take a picture of the car before it got towed off yesterday morning. Too bad! One might have wondered how we had sustained no injuries when the car looked the way it did.

Did I ever tell you my husband's nickname? Around here we call him "Tim, the Tool Man, Taylor." For those of you who don't know about old tv shows, Tim Taylor was a real fix-it kind of guy with his own cable Home Improvement show. The problem was, Tim was always getting himself in trouble by fixing things in rather unusual and overboard measures, and usually hurting himself in the process.

We're having guests for Shabbos/Pesach lunch and I decided to make a nice dessert today. Most Pesach dessert recipes start off with "beat eggs until stiff." Unfortunately, our Pesadik mixer didn't make it to Israel with us and it never occured to me to buy one before Pesach started. Instead of letting me knock on neighbor's doors, my own personal Time The Tool Man Taylor rigged up a mixer by melting a plastic knife into a different shape and attaching it to his cordless drill. As you can see from the picture above, it worked rather well. (And the lemon meringue pie looks absolutely scrumptious!)

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Ever have a door slam in your face? What about into the windshield of your car? While you were in it.

Baruch Hashem, David and I are all right. Talk about a freak accident! It's surprising to new olim to learn that Israelis have to take 28 driving lessons before they can take the driving test for their driver's license. Judging by the way many people drive, it's hard to believe that they've had any lessons. So many people take chances on the road, like passing on the shoulder or around a curve, or driving right up behind someone and honking. They just don't seem to realize that driving is a serious matter.

Today we decided to pack our lunches and head into Yerushalayim along with, literally, a million other people. The accident happened before we ever left the yishuv (Baruch Hashem). We were on the main road of the yishuv, and all was quiet. Today was a gorgeous day, in the upper 80's, with not a cloud in the sky. We were both in great moods, enjoying this second day of chol hamoed. A truck was driving towards us and when it was just a few feet away, the back door suddenly swung open and was in our lane! David stopped the car but there was no time to do anything else before the door slammed into our windshield. Baruch Hashem a thousand times over that even though we were covered with tiny bits of glass, neither of us were hurt. The car, of course, is another matter. The driver's door will need to be replaced, and the frame surrounding the windshield will have to be fixed or replaced along with the glass. The driver of the truck, a young guy, was apologetic but didn't seem to really understand that his being careless about latching the back door could have cost us our lives.

All day David and I have been wondering what Hashem's message for us might be. Obviously we weren't meant to be hurt, but to learn something. All suggestions welcome!

Sunday, April 20, 2008

If we were in chutz l'aretz right now, we'd be in the middle of our second seder.

But the one we had last night was quite enjoyable. David and I had planned to have a quiet seder with just the two of us, and several books of commentaries to aid in our enjoyment and understanding. As it turned out, our friend who just had her baby a couple of weeks ago joined us. I'm not sure I've mentioned the nasty divorce she's going through, but her hopefully-soon-to-be-ex takes the kids for every Shabbat and Yom Tov right now. He also won't leave the house and is making her life miserable so she and the baby have been visiting us quite a lot lately. It was kind of a strange seder, though - she came over with a red and runny nose from allergies (David and I have been taking allergy medicine for weeks; everyone's sneezing and blowing their nose around here) and I gave her a Benedryl. Duh! It wasn't the smartest thing to do. She had the first cup of wine and was out for the count! While she snoozed on the couch I got to hold and rock and walk the baby, which was an unexpected reward for the evening. She's such a cuddly little sweetie. Nathan's had to endure my repeated pleas this past month to find a nice, Jewish girl already and give me some Jewish grandchildren (and, of course, move back here to Israel to do it). He tends to change the subject a lot.

Anyway, David had a very interesting haggadah with some great commentary and we learned a lot of interesting stuff. It's the first time we had the seder at home in several years so I got to unpack all my stuff. We have about 10 boxes of Pesach dishes, serving pieces, etc. so opening everything up after a year is like getting new presents. We have an excess of everything because in St. Louis we used to have big sedarim. Someday we'll have a bigger house so we can have more space to store our things and more room to entertain.

After the seder I went across the street to let Rusty out. He's Miryam and Shaya's 150 pound dog. When we walked over, we could hear singing from open windows on the street. I absolutely love living on a street in a community in a country where practically everyone is celebrating the exact same thing you are. Supposedly 85% of Israelis profess to having a Pesach seder whether they're religious or not. This re-telling of our story year after year for three thousand years is a miracle in itself. As slaves under the ruthless ruler of the biggest empire of all time, our lives and our futures were utterly hopeless - and yet Hashem redeemed and took us out of slavery to bring us to a land "flowing with milk and honey." Every year the story has more meaning for me. So many times in my life I've been off-course, either floundering or just plain headed in the wrong direction, and He's taken me by the hand and shown me a better way.

Sara Yocheved Rigler wrote an excellent piece in this week's Binah magazine. She said that as a nation and a people things are looking pretty hopeless for us right now: the constant bombardment of kassem rockets into Sderot and southern Israel that are maiming and killing, the tragic loss of lives like the yeshiva boys in Mercaz HaRav, the rampant anti-Semitism all over the world, the assimilation that's eating away at our numbers as well as the number of teenagers "off the derech" (path of Torah) and young singles who can't find their mates, our government's ineptness, and worse of all, the threat of physical annihilation by Iran. Her message was to always remember that even when the situation seems hopeless, we have to remember yitzias Mitzraim, the redemption from Egypt, and know that all is in Hashem's hands. Pretty powerful stuff.

I had a lot of fun the past couple of weeks cleaning for Pesach in between working at my new job. I really enjoy working at my new job. Tefilla, the director, wants me full time after Pesach but I told her I was only interested in three days a week. I might work four; David wants me to work as much as I can because we tend to overspend our budget. I'm a little curious how Tefilla plans to work this out. There's already four people and four desks (the fourth person shares an office with Tefilla), so I don't know where I'd work, but Tefilla was adamant that she would work it out. I suspect she's going to try to talk me into some fundraising, and I absolutely don't want to do that. Give me computer work, even if it's inputting donations in the database, and I'll be happy, but I HATE asking people for money.

So I worked five days the first week, and last week just Sunday and Monday so I could finish cleaning and start cooking. All the cleaning was finished by Tuesday night, including covering all the counter tops and tables - first time I've ever been able to finish so early. I didn't get to do a lot of spring cleaning which I usually do; things like washing the windows and cleaning out drawers, but you have to remember this is a tiny house and we don't have kids here so I got done what I needed to. Plus I helped our friend who just had the baby. I did all her Pesach grocery shopping for her and also helped in her kitchen a little. Thank G-d she had some teenage girls who cleaned her frig and did some other cleaning for her.

It was really fun the last few days before the holiday started. Everywhere on the yishuv were people outside cleaning windows and vacuuming out cars and kids scrubbing lawn furniture or toys. I think they actually emptied out the dumpsters all over the yishuv every single day. First I'd see them overflowing and an hour later they'd be empty again.

David took off all of Chol Hamoed. He really needs this vacation. The only bad thing is - EVERYONE takes off this week, so going anywhere will be very crowded. He basically just wants to veg out in his computer/Beit Medrash room, but we'll do some sightseeing. And one night we'll have a BBQ with Shaya and Miryam; we have some rib steaks in the freezer that are calling our names.

Today we had the last seuda (festive meal) with Penina and Pinchus and their kids. Miryam and Shaya were already there; they'd walked down for the seder the night before and spent the night. After lunch we women played mah jongg on our new 2008 cards. Kind of interesting how we got our cards. We ordered them back in January by sending our checks to Shifra in St. Louis. She added them to the orders from my old mahj group. The cards arrived in St. Louis in the mail about three weeks ago. It turned out that Avi from Nefesh B'Nefesh was in St. Louis to speak to prospective olim, and he stayed at Shifra and Albert's house. It was someone who had lived around the corner from us in Ramat Beit Shemesh, so Shifra gave the cards to Avi to bring to Israel. David had the great idea to ask Avi to take them work and give them to Casriel, another guy who works there who lives on our yishuv. And Casriel delivered them to my door. Is it a small world or what? We're hoping to play over Chol Hamoed as well.

David went to bed half an hour ago, and my mind is kind of mushy by now (it's almost midnight). Later, friends!

Sunday, April 06, 2008

It's a girl! And I helped! My friend down the street called me and another friend of hers who's a certified midwife to come to the hospital with her last week when she went to have her baby. The hospital is only about 20 minutes away and we got there by 9 PM. J's first four kids were all born within a couple of hours, but this last one decided to take her time. By the time T and I got to the hospital (I need to be more mindful of people's privacy), J was not a happy camper. When she had seen the doctor earlier that morning, he had accidentally broken her water during the exam, and then sent her to the hospital. Unfortunately, she wasn't yet having contractions and it had already been 8 hours. The midwife on call (they're the ones who deliver the babies in Israel) was pushing her to get started on pictocin and she was adamant that she didn't want it. To make a long story short (although it would be such a fun story to tell if it wouldn't be invading someone else's privacy), T encouraged her to have both the pitocin and an epidural and by 10 am the next morning Sofia Libi was born. I had never been at a birth other than my sons' and I had been too preoccupied at those to really witness the miracle. It was so incredible! This baby had more hair on the top of her head than my sheitel (wig)! She was almost 9 pounds and sooo cute! That 11-hour time slot definitely makes the top ten of my most memorable experiences.

And I got a job today! It's actually only temporary until Pesach, so I'm kind of thinking that I MUST HAVE LOST MY MIND! I've barely started cleaning for Pesach yet, not to mention the cooking and the shopping, and I'm going to be out of the house for 7 or 8 hours a day for the next two weeks? At least it will help defray some of the costs of the chag (holiday). The job entails entering donation information into a database for a not-for-profit. Not particularly inspiring but I've always liked working for a non profit organization.

It's 9 PM and I MUST get back to work. I'm cleaning out my office (guest room), so that when it's finished we can put some stuff from the kitchen in here to make room for the Pesach supplies. Have I ever mentioned what a teeny tiny house we have? Baruch Hashem, it makes Pesach cleaning easy! Well - let's just say, easier. Ladies, we need to keep in mind that every swipe of the rag, every sweep of the broom, and every swish of the antiseptic spray is a mitzvah we're doing for Hashem. I must admit; I really do enjoy Pesach cleaning. I know I'm nuts, but I'm more nuts for taking on a job 12 days before the chag starts!

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Whew - Purim, then Shabbat. Quite a mouthful - literally!

The week started with a women's Purim party at Chaya's house. Now tell me, if you were invited to a Purim party, wouldn't you think that everyone was coming in costume? Yeah, me too! But apparently not these women at this particular party... I was the only one who showed up looking distinctly not like me. I was wearing an old suit of David's with suspenders that held the pants well above my waistline - Steve Erkel would have been proud. I also had a painted-on moustache, a blue afro covered by a Borselino, and a bright red bow tie. Almost all of the other 17 party-ers commented on my lovely appearance. I didn't really mind. When Malka finally showed up, she changed into a similar get-up and we provided the entertainment for the evening by doing a rendition of "Abbott and Costello Learn Hebrew." We each held an ulpan book while she (Abbott) taught me (Costello) the rudiments of Hebrew. You know: מי is who and היא is she and הוא is he and מה is what and דג is fish. I thought most people had heard the routine before, but apparently not - they seemed to enjoy it. Another woman gave an enlightening dvar Torah and we played a game called Yankee swap which was kind of fun - I won a beautiful haggadah with a lot of Marc Chagall paintings.

Early Wednesday morning found me on a bus to Yerushalayim for a therapy appointment. That's the day that all the school children had their Purim parties. The sidewalks were filled with kids (and some adults) dressed up in the cutest costumes! There was a party atmosphere in the air and everyone looked so happy as they headed to their destinations. After all the tragedies lately, it was good to see people feeling happy.

After I got home later that day - surprise, surprise - I started feeling not so great, and all that night I kept waking up with a terrible sore throat. By the time Thursday morning rolled around, I had a raging upper respiratory problem - a mere three weeks after surviving the last round. What is going on here?! I never used to get sick - or stay sick - this often in my life. We did have a pretty bad dust storm for two days earlier in the week and allergy season has definitely started, so those could be contributing factors. The fact that I can't just close the windows and turn on the air conditioning as I've always been able to do in the past could also have something to do with it.

Anyway, I had a To Do list a mile long for each day this past week and somehow managed to get the whole list completed in time. Baruch Hashem David had decided to take Thursday off (he hates working on fast days) and he helped tremendously. I actually didn't even make it to the Megillah reading Thursday night and even though someone offered to call someone else to come read it to me at home, I wasn't even up to that. On Friday morning the cold medicines started kicking in and I was able to get to shul and then come home to prepare for our seuda (festive meal). Three families came over (we had all contributed to the meal), the temperature was in the low to mid 70's with not a cloud in the sky, and we all had a great time. David had set up tables outside and we had a cooler filled with wine. Penina's oldest son brought two friends along, and the boys had a guitar which I personally enjoyed (some of the other adults thought they were rather loud). Pinchas (Penina's husband) joined them with his flute and together with the sounds of our neighbors enjoying their own seudas, a fun time was had by all.

I tried to relax in the afternoon, but we had nine people coming for dinner and there were things I needed to finish up before then, although the cooking was already done. We had Thanksgiving fare: turkey breast, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie. It's the least expensive way to feed a crowd and everybody seems to like it. Miryam and Shaya were the only ones who came for lunch today, and we had plenty of leftovers - that's when it really felt like Thanksgiving!

We did have some bad news this week. Our friend, Tobi (whose husband, Zvi, we stayed with last Shabbat in Ramat Beit Shemesh), lost her sister after a five month struggle with lung cancer. All the family that was with her in New York flew back to Israel Wednesday night with the body and the levaya (funeral) was very late Thursday night in Yerushalayim. There was no way I was up to going, but David went. We're going to pay a shiva call on Monday night.

You just have to wonder sometimes at the way things work out. To have to bury a beloved (50 year old) family member on Purim - a holiday of joy? What is that all about? I find myself asking Hashem "why?" so often these days. I wish we had a Rav that we could go to at times like this. It's not that I'm looking for answers, because I know that no one has answers for situations like this, and I know that there are certain things that Hashem wants from us: that we recognize Him, that we live by His mitzvot, that we learn to love and respect each other. But I want to see the Big Picture; I want to see the front of the quilt instead of all the individual knots and pieces on the back. It's said that there will come a time when we'll all be able to see how everything fits together. I guess I just need some סבלנות (patience).

Sunday, March 16, 2008

I accomplished a lot today. The temperature was probably near 70 and I was energized. You may remember pictures I posted from last summer of our yard without any greenery. Well, it seems that grass - and lots of weeds - grow in the winter due to the rain. We have weeds almost a foot high in some places in our yard; I'm afraid Emma will get lost out there. Today I borrowed a weed whacker and just worked on the front of our house (which is actually on the side of our house; go figure). First I pulled up around twenty palm fronds that we had laid on the dirt in the yard for Emma to have a place to walk when the ground was wet. They had been part of our schach, the top of our sukkah, back in October. Grass and weeds had grown through and around them, so I had to really pull to get them up. Then I dragged them, three or four at a time, down to the end of our road where the houses end, and piled them up outside the gate. After I got rid of those, I used some big garden clippers to get rid of the thickest of the weeds, before I started whacking away with the weed eater. It actually looks like a real yard now! I only worked on about fifteen feet but it took a long time. A lawn mower would have been a whole lot easier, but I doubt if more than a handful of people on the yishuv own one. All I needed was an area big enough to set up some tables for our Purim seuda (meal) this Friday. We have to finalize plans, but I think Penina is making the Purim meal and Miryam & I are doing Friday night.

I also cleaned out the frig today. It wasn't so dirty, but it still took a long time. I think I'm getting in the Pesach cleaning mode. Our guest room is being painted as we speak by our landlord, a young Israeli guy named Eran. He's putting on the anti-mildew paint which should cut down (although not eliminate) the mold problem. Now that I know better, we'll keep the metal window doors open as much as possible and keep a fan running in the room. Even though the weather is nice, I'm sure we haven't seen the last of the rain this season.

Shabbat was wonderful. We left early Friday morning and headed to Ramat Beit Shemesh. Emma was a basket case in the car. She's probably only ridden in a car about five times in her life, and she doesn't like new things. She sat in my lap panting and shaking the entire way. But once we got to our old home, she seemed to remember it. David walked her in the grassy area in front of the apartment building we used to live in, and she couldn't get enough of the sights and smells. Yonatan and Coco were waiting for us inside, and Emma and Coco got pretty excited when they saw each other. Since Yonatan was cleaning the floors for Shabbat, we went out into their little garden with the dogs and let them get used to each other. When Shaina got home from running errands, she shooed us away and told us not to worry about Emma; she was in good hands. I'll probably say this several times, but it was so nice to see them again, and to be back in Ramat Beit Shemesh.

We spent the rest of the day going to the bank, grabbing a falafel for lunch, and visiting with Ellen and Kalmon. We miss them so much. It's amazing how in sync we two couples are. We're about the same age and have the same memories of all the stuff going on in the world when we were growing up. Plus, Kalmon and David have the same weird sense of humor, and Ellen and I run our households (and marriages...) the same way. It's nice to know there are people who "get" you. {Of course I'm talking about here in Israel; there are lots of people who "get" us back in chutz l'aretz.}

We had a great time with Zvi and Daniella. They cooked enough food for their entire apartment building, but we were their only guests. We also feel very comfortable with them. David came home from shul Friday night with a wistful look on his face and told me how good it was to be back at our old shul. We miss that the most on our yishuv. Shabbos morning was Parshas Zachor and I actually got to shul in time for the Shacharit Shemoneh Esrei.

Parshas Zachor is always the Shabbat before Purim. In the Purim story, Haman is this evil guy who tries to get the king to annihilate all the Jews. Familiar story line. Amalek was Haman's predecessor, and encompasses ANYONE who hates us and wants to kill us. We are commanded to hear the following from Deuteronomy on Parshas Zachor: Remember what Amalek did to you, on the way when you were leaving Egypt, that he happened upon you on the way, and he struck those of you who were hindmost, all the weaklings at your rear, when you were faint and exhausted, and he did not fear G-d. It shall be that when Hashem, you G-d, gives you rest from all your enemies all around, in the Land that Hashem, your G-d, gives you as an inheritance to possess it, you shall wipe out the memory of Amalek from under the heaven - you shall not forget!

Wow. The Jewish People have been reading that on Parshas Zachor for thousands of years. It sure has new meaning now, doesn't it? Do you think any of our esteemed leaders in our country (the Land that Hashem, our G-d, gave us as an inheritance) have ever read that line?

Sorry for the political interruption. And now back to our regularly scheduled story.

So it was pretty weird walking into our old shul, I have to say. There are a group of women in their 60's from the "senior" group who I had been semi-friendly with; they had us for Shabbat a number of times. None of them were friendly to me Shabbat morning. I don't know if it was because we didn't reciprocate the Shabbos invitations or if we didn't become involved in the senior group or because we moved away, but I'm sure I felt I coldness from them which was uncomfortable. On the other hand, there were two or three other women who were happy to see me, and after we filed outside, David and Zvi were waiting. David even got an aliyah (he was called to the Torah to read the blessings for one of the seven sections of this week's portion that were read)! After lunch I went to an interesting women's shiur (talk) where I saw Ellen and Michal, the woman who had given us Emma. Ellen and I walked around afterwards and sat on a bench in one of the parks. Josef and Joke (Yo-ka), another couple from our ulpan we were friends with, walked by and we all spent some time catching up. Then I headed over to Yonatan and Shaina's for Seudat Shlishi, the last meal of Shabbat. Emma seemed glad to see us for the first thirty seconds, but then she was off chewing a bone and trying to steal Coco's.

On the way back to the yishuv, I thought about how much more, observance-wise, Shabbat was there. More learning (there were other shiurim I could have gone to), a shul we feel comfortable in. The rabbi there is also very personable, and his drosha (sermon) was in English. On the other hand, if I were to make a list of pros and cons for each community it would probably come out pretty even. There are certainly things we like better about living in a house versus an apartment - like having our own yard with grass (granted, the grass is only around for about three months of the year). I do remember, though, how special it was to be in an apartment building where we could knock on doors to borrow things or to drop Emma off for a couple hours. Not that we can't do that here. Like I said, there are positive things about living in a yishuv as well as in a larger community. A lot of times when I'm walking around Yerushalayim I think how wonderful it would be to live there if we could afford it, where there's so much to see and do. Come to think of it, there's probably not many types of communities that I wouldn't be happy living in here! One thing I know for sure - if we're not living IN Yerushalayim, we need to live pretty close to it.

It's been a long day!

Thursday, March 13, 2008

It's late on a Thursday night. No cooking this week - we're going to Ramat Beit Shemesh for Shabbat. Last night our friend, Zvi, called to invite us to spend Shabbat with him and his daughter. His wife, Tobi, has been in the states most of the last six months to be with her sister who was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer just after Yom Kippur, and I think he's craving the companionship. It would have been nice to invite him here instead, but our guest room is being painted on Sunday with anti-mildew paint and the furniture from that room is all over the place. Emma's going to stay with Yonatan and Shaina, our former neighbors there. I hope she remembers their dog, Coco, and that they used to be good friends. We'll have Seudat Shlishli (the third meal) with them, but the other two will be at Zvi's. The plan is to leave early tomorrow morning so we can spend the day visiting other friends there and shopping for things we can't get here, like instant oatmeal and Ken's salad dressings.

We also need to go to the bank there, although we've been puttiing it off as long as possible. David gets his Air Force retirement directly deposited to a bank back in Minnesota, and every month he cashes a check from that account at Cheerfully Changed so we can put the money in our account here. Unfortunately, the exchange rate is down to 3.4, which is the lowest I've ever seen it. Normally, it's around 4.0 or thereabouts. That means that the 2000 shekels we would usually get (minus the fee) is now about 1400 shekels. That hurts! For people who get paid in dollars or have to pay their rent or mortgage in dollars, it's a big blow to the monthly budget. Thank G-d we have a set shekel rate for our rent, but most people we know pay in dollars that they have to convert from shekels. It's a real problem here; I don't know why anything is charged with dollars - no other foreign currency is used.

I went to the Kotel twice this week. Kind of a record for me since I rarely go. My friend, Ellen, and I were discussing last week the fact that both of us felt less spiritual of late. We met there on Monday afternoon and amidst a crowd of both Israelis and zillions of tourists (I took a little poetic license there) we davened and said Tehillim. Being me, I had left my sheets of names of people to daven for at home but I was able to remember at least my family's names and those of cholim (sick) I daven for every morning.

Yesterday morning I had a 10:50 am appointment for my back therapy (Alexander Technique). My plan was to go straight home afterwards, but I was so near to the Old City that I just started walking there after the appointment. On the way, I called a friend of mine who lives there, Ariel, to see what she was up to. She was delighted that I called and asked if I was up for a shiva (condolence) call. The family of one of the murdered boys from the yeshiva massacre last week lives in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City. I had never been in the Muslim Quarter before; I hadn't even known that Jews lived there. Apparently a company buys homes in all the Quarters and sells them to Jewish families so that we can have a presence throughout the Old City. We followed the signs to the home - there were people spilling out into the alleyway. Ariel and I only stayed for a few minutes. We never found the parents, but we able to find one of the sisters who was surrounded by her friends, and we gave her our condolences. I felt so honored to have been able to just be a presence in their home, to let them know that their grief is also my grief, that their sadness is shared by their larger Jewish family all over the world.

After Ariel and I visited in a cafe for awhile, she went home and I again went down to the Kotel. I pulled a chair as close as I could to the Wall, then closed my eyes and had a heart-to-heart talk with Hakodesh Borchu Hu (G-d). I talked to Him about what happened at the yeshiva, about all the sick people I know, about the divorces of my friends, about the terror down in Sderot, about living our lives in this Holy Land, about each one of my children, siblings, nieces and nephews, and about my husband and I. It was kind of a long conversation. I felt bad that I was asking for so much, more than I'd ever requested at one time before, but I knew He understood why I had to ask.

I used to feel guilty that I felt so blessed; that I had so much more than anyone else, but I figured out (somewhat) why it's so. We can't really afford our car, but a lot of times I use it to take someone to the store or to the doctor or pharmacy so we can't afford NOT to keep it. A woman down the street is counting on me to take her to the hospital in the coming weeks when she goes into labor. We haven't been able to give miser (10% of our income to charity) the last few months because our bills are higher than our income, but I always take a handful of shekels when I go into town to give to the many people on the streets who ask, and I try to be a good neighbor and friend by taking soup to someone who's sick or getting some groceries for someone who needs. I'm astounded sometimes by some of the awesome people I've met or heard of who don't have much of anything and still give part of it away to someone who has less, or who spend hours physically helping other people. I know I'm still way too attached to my "things" - to my computer and my dining room furniture and all the things that make up a household. One day Hashem may just take these things away from me, like He did to the people in Gush Katif, just to show me that I can live without them. I ask myself, could I deal with that? With losing all my photo albums and my books and my clothes and all the rest of my "stuff"? I know I'm willing to make a stand here, on this yishuv, on our land, in this place that Hashem promised us. My heart knows this, but I wonder - can my head make peace with it? Sooooooo many things to contemplate.

Guess I kind of rambled a bit tonight.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

I came across this and thought ut was worth sharing:

Sunday, March 09, 2008
from http://thinkingtorah.blogspot.com/

The news of just so many teenagers killed in the Mercaz HaRav pigua has been heartbreaking. Moreover, with two kids killed from the Gush, one in Efrat and another in Neve Daniel, it has been very close to home. Israel is so small, that everyone knows someone involved. The boy killed in Neve Daniel has a sister in my daughter's class. The boy from Kochav Hashachar is the son of the Mohel who performed my son's Brit Mila. On Friday, I attended the Lavaya (funeral) of Avraham David Moses. Only when at the funeral did I realise that I knew both the father and the step-father of this child. But this email that I received today took this all to a new level. It is from someone that I work with at Nefesh B'Nefesh:

Every morning I take the 35 bus line to work. It's a quick ride and usually takes no more than 12 minutes. The third stop after I get on by the shuk is directly in front of Yeshivat Merkaz HaRav. This morning I found myself a bit anxious, unsure of what I was going to see as we passed by. As I looked around, I saw death notices pasted all over the street and flowers that had been brought lined the entrance to the Yeshiva. When the bus pulled up to the stop, the driver shut off the engine and stood. With tears in his eyes he told everyone sitting on the bus that one of the boys killed on Thursday night was his nephew. He asked if everyone on the bus would mind if he spoke for a few minutes in memory of his nephew and the other boys that were killed. After seeing head nods all over the bus he began to speak. With a clear and proud voice, he spoke beautifully about his nephew and said that he was a person who was constantly on the lookout for how to help out anyone in need. He was always searching for a way to make things better. He loved learning, and had a passion for working out the intricacies of the Gemara. He was excited to join the army in a few years, and wanted to eventually work in informal education.

As he continued to speak, I noticed that the elderly woman sitting next to me was crying. I looked into my bag, reached for a tissue and passed it to her. She looked at me and told me that she too had lost someone she knew in the attack. Her neighbors child was another one of the boys killed. As she held my hand tightly, she stood up and asked if she too could say a few words in memory of her neighbor. She spoke of a young man filled with a zest for life. Every friday he would visit her with a few flowers for shabbat and a short dvar torah that he had learned that week in Yeshiva. This past shabbat, she had no flowers.

When I got to work, one of my colleagues who lives in Efrat told me that her son was friends with 2 of the boys who had been killed. One of those boys was the stepson of a man who used to teach in Brovenders and comes to my shul in Riverdale every Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur to be a chazan for one of the minyanim. We are all affected by what goes on in Israel. Whether you know someone who was killed or know someone who knows someone or even if you don't know anyone at all, you are affected. The 8 boys who were killed will continue to impact us all individually and as a nation. Each one of us has the ability to make a profound impact on our world. This coming wednesday morning,

I will be at Ben Gurion airport at 7 am with Nefesh B'Nefesh welcoming 40 new olim to Israel. We will not deter. We can not give up. We will continue to live our lives and hope and work for change, understanding and peace.

A second point is about the dignity and restraint which everyone has been exhibiting here. At the Levaya there were tears but no anger, no calls for vengeance. Just silence, tears and palpable grief. In fact, more than that. The mother of Avraham David Moses thanked God for "the 16 years we had the privilege of raising him, 16 years of purity of heart and honesty." How can a mother in her grief respond in that way? It is simply incredible.

On the night of the pigua, a few people stood opposite Mercaz Harav calling chants for vengeance and "Death to Arabs." The Rosh Yeshiva went to them and aske dthem to leave. "This is not our way," he told them. "We respond with love of the land, love of Torah, love of Israel. we will rebuild our land, our nation and remain attached to Torah."How starkly different we are to our enemies. May we always be filled with gentle dignity, love and hope, even when our enemies exploit those "weaknesses" to frighten and hurt us.