So I'm feeling very sad to be leaving Trinidad, though not as tearful as Gabi, who has to leave her wonderful cousin Kayleigh. The girls really got along, for which we are so grateful.
We spent the last 2 days at Rampanalgas, just north of Balandra Bay, at a beach house that Alen's brother Jonny goes to as a time share about 4 weeks a year. I have not found a photo that does justice to the place. The house has access to its own rocky beach (as well as its own cold jacuzzi), and just a couple of miles down is Balandra beach where there is a river outlet. The kids loved playing there.
We also drove up to Galera point lighthouse near Toco. The highlight of this was taking Sasha down onto the rocks - you can't see it in the photo, but it's on a rocky cliff right on the northeast corner of Trinidad. Sasha was thrilled to go out on the rocks - I held him tight and kept him far from the edge but I could see his grandfather Vlad was about to have a heart attack nonetheless in fear Sasha would take off. I let Sasha throw small rocks off the cliff and he was able to throw quite far but we could not see them fall into the water of course since we stayed far back for safety. Amazing view and lots of stress.
So the kids had a fabulous time and going to the northeast coast was really one of the highlights of our trip.
I had to edit this part of the post because the links I found did not work. Here's a map of Trinidad. On this same site are photos of the places we went but I can't get the links to work to them. Find Balandra and Rampanalgas on the beaches page and the lighthouse on the sites, all in the northeast coast.
Now this is not the first time that while we were away from our quiet, safe home country on a long plane trip some fool has tried to blow up a plane. At least, I don't think it is. We seem to attract increased travel restrictions whenever we fly. So now nerves are gearing up for another three leg journey. The flight attendants responsible for making passengers stay in their seats have not yet met my son!!! Please pray for us.
Tomorrow a (comparatively) short flight to Miami and 2 days with my parents. Will it be the children's museum, the zoo, or the science museum? Anyone with experience, please weigh in!!!! The Seaquarium looks great but costs nearly 3 times the other items mentioned above. We also hope to do some shopping if we can find any room in the suitcases after all the presents we have received.
All in all, I am filled with gratitude for the time and special occasions we have been able to spend with our family here and the joy and fun times we have had with them and with our kids.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
New Blogs, Christmas, Vacation
So first of all, I want you to know I've had time to find some new blogs to follow. You have to go to my profile to see them. One is a site where a dad and his kids write reviews of kids books - very cool. The other is I Heart Strangers, a guy in Denver who talks to and photographs strangers. One of his strangers is Yehuda Pollock, my sister's husband's sister's son. It's a cool blog and it's great to see photos of Yehuda in Denver!
Christmas - it's overwhelming, it's another world, it's family and traditions and food and too many presents and it's not mine. I alternate between feeling touched and happy and feeling alienated. The most shocking thing to realize - in the 20 plus years since Alen left Trinidad, this is only the 4th Christmas she's spent at home. And I've been with her for three of the four. This is actually my fourth Christmas with her family - we spent one in England in 1995, the year her grandfather died on boxing day, before we got to see him.
Vacation - a three week vacation follows a predictable pattern - tired and happy the first week, cranky some time during the second week (kids, spouse, culture shock) - then the third week overwhelmed with the thought that this will END and I will have to return to (gasp!) working and housework, etc. etc.
Highlight of the day - Gabi's class at school used their computer class period to write letters to her including great pictures of Trinidad and of airplanes and other stuff they found on the web I guess. Way cool.
Thanks for reading and PLEASE comments on the blog (not on facebook) - I need comments!!!!!
Christmas - it's overwhelming, it's another world, it's family and traditions and food and too many presents and it's not mine. I alternate between feeling touched and happy and feeling alienated. The most shocking thing to realize - in the 20 plus years since Alen left Trinidad, this is only the 4th Christmas she's spent at home. And I've been with her for three of the four. This is actually my fourth Christmas with her family - we spent one in England in 1995, the year her grandfather died on boxing day, before we got to see him.
Vacation - a three week vacation follows a predictable pattern - tired and happy the first week, cranky some time during the second week (kids, spouse, culture shock) - then the third week overwhelmed with the thought that this will END and I will have to return to (gasp!) working and housework, etc. etc.
Highlight of the day - Gabi's class at school used their computer class period to write letters to her including great pictures of Trinidad and of airplanes and other stuff they found on the web I guess. Way cool.
Thanks for reading and PLEASE comments on the blog (not on facebook) - I need comments!!!!!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
What I've been reading
So I've had some time to read. First I read the Year of Living Biblically, a birthday gift from Alen, which was actually interesting and funny. Then I read a great book, the Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell. I love how this guy brings together such disparate stuff. The book definitely raised a lot of questions - I have to check if he continues these kinds of discussions on his website.
Then I read The Smartest Guys in the Room: The Amazing Rise and Scandalous Fall of Enron. It was long and Alen's brother (the MBA) said he could not get through it, so I viewed it as something of a challenge. However, I'm not sure what I gained from it in the end, except maybe a better understanding of the California power crisis that I had never paid attention to. I still don't really understand what short selling is and I only have a vaguely better conception of what a hedge fund is.
After starting but deciding I could not get into Born to Kvetch (a history of Yiddish), I picked up The Bitch in the House, 26 Women Tell the Truth about Sex, Solitude, Work, Motherhood and Marriage, edited by Cathi Hanauer. I think the title may have kept it from being a bestseller :-) but I just finished it and liked it a lot. Most of the authors are professional writers and it's missing the voices of any out lesbians. But I really enjoyed it. It also makes me grateful for being a mom in my 40s and not my 30s.
Alen has finished Julie and Julia and I hope to have time for that along with a Bill Bryson book before we return. Here's to vacation!!!
Then I read The Smartest Guys in the Room: The Amazing Rise and Scandalous Fall of Enron. It was long and Alen's brother (the MBA) said he could not get through it, so I viewed it as something of a challenge. However, I'm not sure what I gained from it in the end, except maybe a better understanding of the California power crisis that I had never paid attention to. I still don't really understand what short selling is and I only have a vaguely better conception of what a hedge fund is.
After starting but deciding I could not get into Born to Kvetch (a history of Yiddish), I picked up The Bitch in the House, 26 Women Tell the Truth about Sex, Solitude, Work, Motherhood and Marriage, edited by Cathi Hanauer. I think the title may have kept it from being a bestseller :-) but I just finished it and liked it a lot. Most of the authors are professional writers and it's missing the voices of any out lesbians. But I really enjoyed it. It also makes me grateful for being a mom in my 40s and not my 30s.
Alen has finished Julie and Julia and I hope to have time for that along with a Bill Bryson book before we return. Here's to vacation!!!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Trinidad
So I'm not really sure I have any capability of understanding any other culture, and on this my 5th trip to Trinidad, I'm pretty sure I understand less than ever what is going on here. So here's just a little of what I'm noticing and not understanding.
Meaning of Place
I live somewhere where people attach probably too much meaning to place - the Holy Land. But I find that being away, I miss it. Even in the US, where I lived previously, there is a sense of being in a special country that's better than anywhere else. Here in Trinidad there's much more a sense of being "someplace in the world" - someplace perhaps unique but not special as Israel and the US see themselves. I find myself looking for meaning and not finding it.
No sidewalks
The roads tend to have drainage ditches along the sides but no sidewalks. Gates, walls and fences of houses (almost all have them) come right up to the road. It makes everything look different than what I'm used to.
No codes - or codes I can't see
Israelis dress in a very coded way. By looking at someone, I can tell if they are secular, Religious Zionist, Haredi, Arab, etc. Not in all cases of course, but in many cases. I've often wondered why people don't try to pass as what they are not, and in fact many do, but many do not. Head covering, for instance, is a clear way people differentiate themselves. Here in Trinidad, I can't find those same codes. One of our hosts last night with whom I discussed this said that you can place people by what they have. He said the culture is materialistic. When I tried to talk cultural legacies with him, he said he understands culture materially.
Lush and Green
Geographically or botanically, Trinidad seems so much the opposite of Israel. It's very, very green. Plants grow very rapidly. Bugs and birds are everywhere. Heat is moist, humid.
Amazing Hanukkah Party
We attended a Hanukkah gathering of the Trinidadian Jewish community last Motzei Shabbat. An amazing mix of descendants of the original Jewish Sephardic communities in the Caribbean (including Recife, Curacao, Trinidad, plus more), descendants of Jewish families who came as refugees from Europe in the 30s, Israeli expats, US expats including someone from the FSU - a former refusenik, one French expat with roots in Eastern Europe, Jews by choice, us. It was truly a gathering of the exiles. Long on history and peoplehood, short on Yiddishkeit. A couple of Chabad rabbis came last summer for a visit. If anyone reading this can visit and teach, I'm sure they would welcome you.
That's what I've got for today - thanks for reading, thanks to the housesitters, happy last day of Hanukkah and Shabbat shalom
Meaning of Place
I live somewhere where people attach probably too much meaning to place - the Holy Land. But I find that being away, I miss it. Even in the US, where I lived previously, there is a sense of being in a special country that's better than anywhere else. Here in Trinidad there's much more a sense of being "someplace in the world" - someplace perhaps unique but not special as Israel and the US see themselves. I find myself looking for meaning and not finding it.
No sidewalks
The roads tend to have drainage ditches along the sides but no sidewalks. Gates, walls and fences of houses (almost all have them) come right up to the road. It makes everything look different than what I'm used to.
No codes - or codes I can't see
Israelis dress in a very coded way. By looking at someone, I can tell if they are secular, Religious Zionist, Haredi, Arab, etc. Not in all cases of course, but in many cases. I've often wondered why people don't try to pass as what they are not, and in fact many do, but many do not. Head covering, for instance, is a clear way people differentiate themselves. Here in Trinidad, I can't find those same codes. One of our hosts last night with whom I discussed this said that you can place people by what they have. He said the culture is materialistic. When I tried to talk cultural legacies with him, he said he understands culture materially.
Lush and Green
Geographically or botanically, Trinidad seems so much the opposite of Israel. It's very, very green. Plants grow very rapidly. Bugs and birds are everywhere. Heat is moist, humid.
Amazing Hanukkah Party
We attended a Hanukkah gathering of the Trinidadian Jewish community last Motzei Shabbat. An amazing mix of descendants of the original Jewish Sephardic communities in the Caribbean (including Recife, Curacao, Trinidad, plus more), descendants of Jewish families who came as refugees from Europe in the 30s, Israeli expats, US expats including someone from the FSU - a former refusenik, one French expat with roots in Eastern Europe, Jews by choice, us. It was truly a gathering of the exiles. Long on history and peoplehood, short on Yiddishkeit. A couple of Chabad rabbis came last summer for a visit. If anyone reading this can visit and teach, I'm sure they would welcome you.
That's what I've got for today - thanks for reading, thanks to the housesitters, happy last day of Hanukkah and Shabbat shalom
Friday, December 11, 2009
No place like home?
It's great to be in Trinidad - so far less than 24 hours here and really enjoying Kayleigh and Lucas and watching them play with our wonderful kids. The cousins are getting on famously so far bli ayin hara.
The trip was everything you can imagine a 32 hour trip with a 6 and 3 year old would be. The kids were troupers, but it was very tough on them being so tired - we left Israel at 1 am.
Some highlights: the intensive security check on through passengers from Israel in Paris eventually brought us to a Trinidadian American Airlines clerk who whisked us ahead onto the plane after our 45 minute interrogation and wait - it seems all Israelis got the treatment though they were also harassing a couple with adopted kids from Denmark - seems to me the Americans could get a little better at figuring out who might be a danger.
The playmobile magnetic airport toy we bought for the kids in Orly Airport triggered a handsearch of our hand luggage in Miami - the staff insisting we had an electronic device but not even cracking a smile when they discovered what it really was.
Gabi commented in Miami airport that we were now probably the only Hebrew speakers around, about two minutes before we found ourselves eavesdropping on the sabras at the next table :-) My assertion to the children, "this is America, the rule is children have to stay right next to their mothers" provoked smiles from a fellow traveler to Trinidad.
Highly enjoyable was the very straight looking executive type guy on the Paris-Miami flight who kindly came over to ask me to "keep my son's voice down" - I looked at him baffled for some seconds as he repeated the request before responding, "I'm doing the best I can but he controls his own voice"! (Thought that would be obvious.)
The plane was full of about 35 Nepalese refugees being flown to and resettled in Dallas Texas. If anyone knows anything about this - speak up! They had flown from Nepal to Bangladesh to Paris to Miami and were going on to Dallas. I wish them the best.
Sasha thinks he's in a toystore at his cousins' house - he's trying to play with each toy at least once. Tomorrow we have an afternoon party with Santa followed by a Hanukkah party across town with Trinidad's small Jewish group. I thought it suitable to warn Gabi that she might be encouraged to sit on Santa's lap and that it would be her choice but not to expect him to bring her gifts since we are not Christian. Tried to answer her questions with assertions about the importance of giving, but she wanted to know the bottom line - do we believe in Santa. I checked with Alen, who says we do not, but we forbade Gabi to dispel anyone else's belief. We'll see.
Nothing like a little culture shock to make me realize how Israeli I've become - only Israeli songs came to mind to sing as I was trying to comfort crying, exhausted Gabi whose ears hurt when we were landing.
And then the excitement of seeing Vlad, Johnny and Edward who all arrived to meet us. Now a blessed, loud hot rain is falling - this place feels to be the ecological opposite of the land we've left.
Happy Chanukah Everyone!
The trip was everything you can imagine a 32 hour trip with a 6 and 3 year old would be. The kids were troupers, but it was very tough on them being so tired - we left Israel at 1 am.
Some highlights: the intensive security check on through passengers from Israel in Paris eventually brought us to a Trinidadian American Airlines clerk who whisked us ahead onto the plane after our 45 minute interrogation and wait - it seems all Israelis got the treatment though they were also harassing a couple with adopted kids from Denmark - seems to me the Americans could get a little better at figuring out who might be a danger.
The playmobile magnetic airport toy we bought for the kids in Orly Airport triggered a handsearch of our hand luggage in Miami - the staff insisting we had an electronic device but not even cracking a smile when they discovered what it really was.
Gabi commented in Miami airport that we were now probably the only Hebrew speakers around, about two minutes before we found ourselves eavesdropping on the sabras at the next table :-) My assertion to the children, "this is America, the rule is children have to stay right next to their mothers" provoked smiles from a fellow traveler to Trinidad.
Highly enjoyable was the very straight looking executive type guy on the Paris-Miami flight who kindly came over to ask me to "keep my son's voice down" - I looked at him baffled for some seconds as he repeated the request before responding, "I'm doing the best I can but he controls his own voice"! (Thought that would be obvious.)
The plane was full of about 35 Nepalese refugees being flown to and resettled in Dallas Texas. If anyone knows anything about this - speak up! They had flown from Nepal to Bangladesh to Paris to Miami and were going on to Dallas. I wish them the best.
Sasha thinks he's in a toystore at his cousins' house - he's trying to play with each toy at least once. Tomorrow we have an afternoon party with Santa followed by a Hanukkah party across town with Trinidad's small Jewish group. I thought it suitable to warn Gabi that she might be encouraged to sit on Santa's lap and that it would be her choice but not to expect him to bring her gifts since we are not Christian. Tried to answer her questions with assertions about the importance of giving, but she wanted to know the bottom line - do we believe in Santa. I checked with Alen, who says we do not, but we forbade Gabi to dispel anyone else's belief. We'll see.
Nothing like a little culture shock to make me realize how Israeli I've become - only Israeli songs came to mind to sing as I was trying to comfort crying, exhausted Gabi whose ears hurt when we were landing.
And then the excitement of seeing Vlad, Johnny and Edward who all arrived to meet us. Now a blessed, loud hot rain is falling - this place feels to be the ecological opposite of the land we've left.
Happy Chanukah Everyone!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Banana Bread
I realized today not everyone has the privilege of being born into a family with a prize winning banana bread recipe. This is my adaptation of Mom's recipe that won a prize I still have 30 years later - a teak rolling pin!
The trick to this bread is slow baking at 300 F or 150 C.
Grease and flour a loaf pan.
3 mashed ripe bananas
1 scant cup sugar
2 eggs
1/4 cup oil
mix
sift in 1 1/2 cups flour (white or half whole wheat and half white)
1 tsp baking soda
bake at 300 for one hour or until a fork comes out clean. You can mess with it (nuts, chocolate chips, raisins) but you can't make it better.
The trick to this bread is slow baking at 300 F or 150 C.
Grease and flour a loaf pan.
3 mashed ripe bananas
1 scant cup sugar
2 eggs
1/4 cup oil
mix
sift in 1 1/2 cups flour (white or half whole wheat and half white)
1 tsp baking soda
bake at 300 for one hour or until a fork comes out clean. You can mess with it (nuts, chocolate chips, raisins) but you can't make it better.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The Cup
I was asked to write something for my professional organization newsletter (it still comes out in paper!). The topic was how Torah stories intersect with our lives - they always have a piece from Israeli colleagues - and the specific Torah story we were asked to write about is the upcoming parshiyot about Joseph. I am posting it earlier than it will appear in print because of our upcoming trip. The piece I wrote seems especially relevant today - we spent the afternoon at the Thanksgiving celebration of neighbors - many anglos there though including Canadians, British and Australians. The food was terrific but Thanksgiving is really the only US holiday I miss and I've suffered from some homesickness as you read in my last post.
I began and ended the day singing the sentimental song Halley's Comet by Mary Chapin Carpenter to Gabi and Sasha - lots of tears in the morning but managed not to cry in the evening - Gabi said "you're almost crying" after I promised not to! I will mention the kids and I also did a great hike to and from the horse farm today today with some high risk bimba riding (with helmets of course). As a result Sasha was asleep at 7:30 pm with Gabi not far behind!
Here's my piece about Joseph:
The Cup
I want to use this space to explore what it means when members of our families and close friendship circles are far from us. The Joseph Story is of course the first extended treatment of life outside the land of Israel that we find in the book of Genesis. For a period of his life, the years in which he grew up and matured, Joseph lived far from his family. He seems to have brought with him to Egypt values and natural talents, but he exercises them without the benefit of parents or siblings, not to mention without the internet or facebook. Or we might say he is able to exercise his talents precisely because he is far from his father and siblings.
I know something about being an immigrant – I come by it honestly. My mother left her native England and moved to the US when she married my father at the (then late) age of 29. In some ways, she was a Joseph. She dreamed of going to the US and getting away from the small, closed London Jewish community and the multitude of aunts, uncles and cousins that surrounded her.
My mother-in-law, may her memory be a blessing, lived a similar story. She dreamed since high school of traveling around the world. She met her Trinidadian husband at university in England and eventually traveled to make her home halfway across the globe in Trinidad. In her last years, she traveled around the world for work, and she died while working in Africa. Both these strong women have been models to me as I try to make sense of living away from "home".
In the Joseph story, the cost to Joseph of his distance from his family is apparent. The distance is one of estrangement and his desire to reconnect with his brothers when they appear is palpable. In thinking of the story, my mind is drawn to the cup that Joseph sends back hidden with his brothers. To me, the cup symbolizes that part of Joseph that can never be reconciled with Egypt – the part of him that wants to run back with his brothers to reach his father. It reminds me of the special smile that I only see on my partner's face when she's laughing with her brothers in Trinidad – so like the special laughter my mother shares only with relatives in England. The cup is that piece that doesn't fit in – the feeling I sometimes have when I'm trying and failing to make connections with native Israelis – the feeling that I am always on unfamiliar turf.
At the end of the Joseph story, though, Joseph does not return to Canaan with the cup. Instead, he is the instrument of bringing his father and brothers out of the land of Canaan. Unlike Joseph, neither my mother nor my mother-in-law tried or succeeded to bring their parents or siblings from England. Rather, both experienced the same costs Alen and I feel today, raising our children far from their grandparents, aunts and uncles. As our remaining parents age I feel more acutely the distance. I also feel the pain of distance from friends and colleagues as they face illness and other challenges.
Joseph becomes whole when his brothers and father arrive in Egypt. I don't feel that wholeness is available to me, so I find ways to live each day with a missing piece. And when friends and family come to visit, I send them home with a cup.
I began and ended the day singing the sentimental song Halley's Comet by Mary Chapin Carpenter to Gabi and Sasha - lots of tears in the morning but managed not to cry in the evening - Gabi said "you're almost crying" after I promised not to! I will mention the kids and I also did a great hike to and from the horse farm today today with some high risk bimba riding (with helmets of course). As a result Sasha was asleep at 7:30 pm with Gabi not far behind!
Here's my piece about Joseph:
The Cup
I want to use this space to explore what it means when members of our families and close friendship circles are far from us. The Joseph Story is of course the first extended treatment of life outside the land of Israel that we find in the book of Genesis. For a period of his life, the years in which he grew up and matured, Joseph lived far from his family. He seems to have brought with him to Egypt values and natural talents, but he exercises them without the benefit of parents or siblings, not to mention without the internet or facebook. Or we might say he is able to exercise his talents precisely because he is far from his father and siblings.
I know something about being an immigrant – I come by it honestly. My mother left her native England and moved to the US when she married my father at the (then late) age of 29. In some ways, she was a Joseph. She dreamed of going to the US and getting away from the small, closed London Jewish community and the multitude of aunts, uncles and cousins that surrounded her.
My mother-in-law, may her memory be a blessing, lived a similar story. She dreamed since high school of traveling around the world. She met her Trinidadian husband at university in England and eventually traveled to make her home halfway across the globe in Trinidad. In her last years, she traveled around the world for work, and she died while working in Africa. Both these strong women have been models to me as I try to make sense of living away from "home".
In the Joseph story, the cost to Joseph of his distance from his family is apparent. The distance is one of estrangement and his desire to reconnect with his brothers when they appear is palpable. In thinking of the story, my mind is drawn to the cup that Joseph sends back hidden with his brothers. To me, the cup symbolizes that part of Joseph that can never be reconciled with Egypt – the part of him that wants to run back with his brothers to reach his father. It reminds me of the special smile that I only see on my partner's face when she's laughing with her brothers in Trinidad – so like the special laughter my mother shares only with relatives in England. The cup is that piece that doesn't fit in – the feeling I sometimes have when I'm trying and failing to make connections with native Israelis – the feeling that I am always on unfamiliar turf.
At the end of the Joseph story, though, Joseph does not return to Canaan with the cup. Instead, he is the instrument of bringing his father and brothers out of the land of Canaan. Unlike Joseph, neither my mother nor my mother-in-law tried or succeeded to bring their parents or siblings from England. Rather, both experienced the same costs Alen and I feel today, raising our children far from their grandparents, aunts and uncles. As our remaining parents age I feel more acutely the distance. I also feel the pain of distance from friends and colleagues as they face illness and other challenges.
Joseph becomes whole when his brothers and father arrive in Egypt. I don't feel that wholeness is available to me, so I find ways to live each day with a missing piece. And when friends and family come to visit, I send them home with a cup.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving to all our US friends and family.
In honor, I roasted pumpkin last night for a pumpkin pie and there was extra. One thing we have a lot of in Israel is pumpkin. I found this recipe for pumpkin oatmeal muffins in a recipe book with Nancy VDP's handwriting - gave my heart a pang of missing home and childhood. Adapted it with an idea from Irish Oatmeal muffins in Fannie Farmer and got up and made them and put in the oven by 6:30 am!!!
Sasha is playing with the story cubes Grandma gave him - they are people (Mommy, Ima, Grandma, Grandpa, Gabi & Sasha) riding in cars and airplanes! And here's the recipe-
The night before put one cup of oatmeal in one cup of milk (or other liquid) and put in fridge. Roast or buy 3/4 cup pumpkin mash. In the morning, preheat oven to 400 and grease about 12-18 muffin cups. Sift together 1 & 1/2 cups flour, 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp cinnamon. In another bowl, mix 2 eggs, the pumpkin, 2 tablespoons oil, 1/4-1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup apple juice. Mix together the dry, the wet and the oats that were soaking up the liquid - just till everything is mixed. Put in the muffin cups and bake 20-25 minutes until a knife comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes in pans.
I'm off to taste them. And I'm thankful for Nancy and for all my friends and family, for being able to love across miles and close by. Love and hugs from me and Sasha!
In honor, I roasted pumpkin last night for a pumpkin pie and there was extra. One thing we have a lot of in Israel is pumpkin. I found this recipe for pumpkin oatmeal muffins in a recipe book with Nancy VDP's handwriting - gave my heart a pang of missing home and childhood. Adapted it with an idea from Irish Oatmeal muffins in Fannie Farmer and got up and made them and put in the oven by 6:30 am!!!
Sasha is playing with the story cubes Grandma gave him - they are people (Mommy, Ima, Grandma, Grandpa, Gabi & Sasha) riding in cars and airplanes! And here's the recipe-
The night before put one cup of oatmeal in one cup of milk (or other liquid) and put in fridge. Roast or buy 3/4 cup pumpkin mash. In the morning, preheat oven to 400 and grease about 12-18 muffin cups. Sift together 1 & 1/2 cups flour, 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp cinnamon. In another bowl, mix 2 eggs, the pumpkin, 2 tablespoons oil, 1/4-1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup apple juice. Mix together the dry, the wet and the oats that were soaking up the liquid - just till everything is mixed. Put in the muffin cups and bake 20-25 minutes until a knife comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes in pans.
I'm off to taste them. And I'm thankful for Nancy and for all my friends and family, for being able to love across miles and close by. Love and hugs from me and Sasha!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
In Memory of Sylvia - Natural and Human Resources
Friday was the 6th yahrzeit of my mother in law, Sylvia Kacal. She died of Malaria in Malawi, where she had spend about 2 years, on October 24, 2003.
In thinking about her work, I have been drawn to the concept of resources. It's possible to think that her whole life was about resources. She taught school for many years - helping children build on their resources of intelligence to learn about the world. She ran an art gallery in the Hilton Hotel in Port of Spain, bringing together local Trinidadian artists and tourists with money to spend. Then in her 50s she went back to school to get a degree in Coastal Resource Management - building on volunteer work she had been doing with the Caribbean Forest Conservation Association and other organizations working to preserve Trinidad's natural resources.
For the last 10 years of her life, she worked as a consultant on projects to help preserve local natural resources and turn them into sources of income to local people through eco-tourism. When she died, she had just finished running a course for tour guides in Mulanje, Malawi.
Malawi is one of the poorest countries in the world. It was one of Sylvia's great gifts to be able to see all the resources available even in one of the poorest of places and work to enlarge them. After the tour guide course, she became involved in a search and rescue effort to find a Dutch woman, Linda Plonk, who worked for a local NGO who had gone missing. This involved bringing helicopters and sniffer dogs from Europe to conduct the search and Sylvia ran a home base managing logistics for the searchers. The woman they were looking for was never found.
The week leading up to Sylvia's death was not only the week when we try to get back to normal in Israel after weeks of fall holidays, it was also a week of unusual sunspot activity. At the end of the week, we learned she had died.
May her memory be for a blessing and may we learn from her ability to bring resources to bear on all situations. A million people, most of them children, die each year from Malaria. Malaria is first and foremost a disease of resources - basic sanitation, simple resources such as screens and mosquito nets, make a world of difference in eradicating malaria. Find out more and donate at www.malaria.org or www.rollbackmalaria.org. World Malaria Day is on Sylvia (and Sasha's) birthday, April 25.
In thinking about her work, I have been drawn to the concept of resources. It's possible to think that her whole life was about resources. She taught school for many years - helping children build on their resources of intelligence to learn about the world. She ran an art gallery in the Hilton Hotel in Port of Spain, bringing together local Trinidadian artists and tourists with money to spend. Then in her 50s she went back to school to get a degree in Coastal Resource Management - building on volunteer work she had been doing with the Caribbean Forest Conservation Association and other organizations working to preserve Trinidad's natural resources.
For the last 10 years of her life, she worked as a consultant on projects to help preserve local natural resources and turn them into sources of income to local people through eco-tourism. When she died, she had just finished running a course for tour guides in Mulanje, Malawi.
Malawi is one of the poorest countries in the world. It was one of Sylvia's great gifts to be able to see all the resources available even in one of the poorest of places and work to enlarge them. After the tour guide course, she became involved in a search and rescue effort to find a Dutch woman, Linda Plonk, who worked for a local NGO who had gone missing. This involved bringing helicopters and sniffer dogs from Europe to conduct the search and Sylvia ran a home base managing logistics for the searchers. The woman they were looking for was never found.
The week leading up to Sylvia's death was not only the week when we try to get back to normal in Israel after weeks of fall holidays, it was also a week of unusual sunspot activity. At the end of the week, we learned she had died.
May her memory be for a blessing and may we learn from her ability to bring resources to bear on all situations. A million people, most of them children, die each year from Malaria. Malaria is first and foremost a disease of resources - basic sanitation, simple resources such as screens and mosquito nets, make a world of difference in eradicating malaria. Find out more and donate at www.malaria.org or www.rollbackmalaria.org. World Malaria Day is on Sylvia (and Sasha's) birthday, April 25.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Losing and Finding Love
Lots of people are commenting on Jay Michaelson's recent piece in the Forward, How I'm Losing My Love for Israel. When I got a link to it on the Jewish Mosaic weekly newsletter, I decided I had to post my thoughts.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for Jay Michaelson. But I don't actually know Jay Michaelson, I just admire him from afar as an out Jewish gay leader, part of a new younger generation who have moved so far forward on Jewish LGBT issues. I see him referred to often in Jewish Mosaic posts. In the awful aftermath of the Bar Noar shooting August 1, I was so touched by the response of Jewish Mosaic. I felt that I really was part of a worldwide Jewish LGBT community responsible and committed to one another. So Jay's article was a big disappointment.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for the USA. Of course, that goes back awhile, to 1993 when I met and fell in love with a woman who is not a US citizen. The year we married the US passed DOMA, and four years after that we were on our way into exile here in Israel because the US has no same-sex partner immigration rights. But my love for the country I was born and raised in and its ideals has been on the upswing since the recent elections and I still entertain hopes that some of the grave injustices present there will turn around.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for the American Jewish Community, but that would be pretty self destructive to write. I've spent the past 16 years working full time in or for the American Jewish Community - one way or another it's the resources of that community that pay my salary. And half my family and most of my friends are part of that community. So despite my frustration with how easily many North American Jews are willing to dismiss Israel, as though somehow it might be possible for them to disconnect from the world's largest Jewish population center, from the history, the heritage and the miracle that Israel is despite its faults, I can't say I'm losing my love or giving up on the community I grew up in.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for the Gay Community, but such a statement would feel even more heretical and betraying. I've often felt very ambivalent about the gay community, which makes very little place for observant Jews like myself, but organizations such as Jewish Mosaic and Nehirim have help me maintain a sense that I am part of something, and this blog is in part my attempt to be more out and more connected in the aftermath of the Bar Noar shooting last month.
So I thought the only honest thing I could call this is How I'm Losing My Love of Love, at least the romantic ideas of love I had when I was younger. From where I am today, love is more an action than a feeling. Love is holding my 3 year old when he was vomiting last night and the 2 hours my partner watched the kids so I could sleep it off this morning. Love is going to a parent meeting exhausted at 8 pm and struggling to understand the Hebrew and the completely foreign culture so I can be part of my daughter's education. Love is the hundreds of volunteer hours put a couple of dozen families here in Tzur Hadassah so that we can have a thriving progressive synagogue, the only one in this area. Love is the hours that I and my co-workers spend helping North American students (like Jay Michaelson once was) find funds, housing, Shabbat meals, and all they need to be here in Israel for however long they can and make a connection. Sure, it's our paychecks, but we do it because of our love and commitment to the Jewish People.
M. Scott Peck explained this in The Road Less Travelled. I'll paraphrase him badly no doubt, but he said that when we love, we want what is best for our beloved, and through our love and commitment, we work toward that. All kinds of wonderful things here in Israel, from the Israel Religious Action Center, the Reform and Masorti movements, the Jerusalem Open House, Rabbis for Human Rights, BeTzelem, etc., are here because of the actions and the love of Jews in North America.
So if you feel like your love for Israel or for anyone or anything in the world is waning, think about what the last thing you did was to nurture the connection. Love is an action.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for Jay Michaelson. But I don't actually know Jay Michaelson, I just admire him from afar as an out Jewish gay leader, part of a new younger generation who have moved so far forward on Jewish LGBT issues. I see him referred to often in Jewish Mosaic posts. In the awful aftermath of the Bar Noar shooting August 1, I was so touched by the response of Jewish Mosaic. I felt that I really was part of a worldwide Jewish LGBT community responsible and committed to one another. So Jay's article was a big disappointment.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for the USA. Of course, that goes back awhile, to 1993 when I met and fell in love with a woman who is not a US citizen. The year we married the US passed DOMA, and four years after that we were on our way into exile here in Israel because the US has no same-sex partner immigration rights. But my love for the country I was born and raised in and its ideals has been on the upswing since the recent elections and I still entertain hopes that some of the grave injustices present there will turn around.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for the American Jewish Community, but that would be pretty self destructive to write. I've spent the past 16 years working full time in or for the American Jewish Community - one way or another it's the resources of that community that pay my salary. And half my family and most of my friends are part of that community. So despite my frustration with how easily many North American Jews are willing to dismiss Israel, as though somehow it might be possible for them to disconnect from the world's largest Jewish population center, from the history, the heritage and the miracle that Israel is despite its faults, I can't say I'm losing my love or giving up on the community I grew up in.
I thought of calling this entry How I'm Losing My Love for the Gay Community, but such a statement would feel even more heretical and betraying. I've often felt very ambivalent about the gay community, which makes very little place for observant Jews like myself, but organizations such as Jewish Mosaic and Nehirim have help me maintain a sense that I am part of something, and this blog is in part my attempt to be more out and more connected in the aftermath of the Bar Noar shooting last month.
So I thought the only honest thing I could call this is How I'm Losing My Love of Love, at least the romantic ideas of love I had when I was younger. From where I am today, love is more an action than a feeling. Love is holding my 3 year old when he was vomiting last night and the 2 hours my partner watched the kids so I could sleep it off this morning. Love is going to a parent meeting exhausted at 8 pm and struggling to understand the Hebrew and the completely foreign culture so I can be part of my daughter's education. Love is the hundreds of volunteer hours put a couple of dozen families here in Tzur Hadassah so that we can have a thriving progressive synagogue, the only one in this area. Love is the hours that I and my co-workers spend helping North American students (like Jay Michaelson once was) find funds, housing, Shabbat meals, and all they need to be here in Israel for however long they can and make a connection. Sure, it's our paychecks, but we do it because of our love and commitment to the Jewish People.
M. Scott Peck explained this in The Road Less Travelled. I'll paraphrase him badly no doubt, but he said that when we love, we want what is best for our beloved, and through our love and commitment, we work toward that. All kinds of wonderful things here in Israel, from the Israel Religious Action Center, the Reform and Masorti movements, the Jerusalem Open House, Rabbis for Human Rights, BeTzelem, etc., are here because of the actions and the love of Jews in North America.
So if you feel like your love for Israel or for anyone or anything in the world is waning, think about what the last thing you did was to nurture the connection. Love is an action.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
What Happened Tuesday Morning?
IDF forces opened fire at an Israeli Arab driver who broke through a checkpoint close to Beitar Illit
From the official IDF website:
On Tuesday morning (Sept. 22), an Israeli Arab was hit by IDF forces that opened fire at him after he broke through a checkpoint close to Beitar Illit, west of Bethlehem, in his vehicle. He approached the checkpoint at high speed and after the soldiers fired warning shots, refused to slow down, threatening the life of the soldiers. After the vehicle broke through the checkpoint, IDF forces followed it. As they tried to stop the driver, he attempted to run them over with his vehicle. The soldiers opened fire at the vehicle and hit the driver. An IDF soldier was lightly injured in the incident.
A Magen David Adom emergency team arrived at the scene and declared the driver dead. The circumstances of the incident are currently being investigated.
The shooting apparently happened right outside the town where Sasha goes to gan - that is, across the street from the entrance to our town. I'm still trying to find out what time the incident happened and whether the driver had anyone else in his vehicle.
I found out about it because when I went to take Sasha to gan, the area at the entrance to the moshav across the way, Mevo Betar, was filled with army, police, etc. A few minutes after I dropped Sasha off, I heard on the radio about what had happened. I am sure that on the radio they said the driver who was shot was known to the security forces for transporting people illegally from the territories into Israel. But this does not appear in the official army reports.
The reason the hour that it happened is important to me and whether there were other people in the vehicle is because I think it likely this man was transporting or known for transporting illegal workers. The checkpoint he broke through is not a passage checkpoint for Palestinians. The checkpoint, which I drive through twice a day every work day, goes from my part of inside green line Israel into the West Bank. Immediately on the other side of the checkpoint are a small Arab town, Wadi Fukin, a large Arab town, Husan (60K residents) and an ultra Orthodox Jewish settlement, Beitar Illit (30K residents, median age is 11).
Because the checkpoint is not a passage checkpoint, Palestinian residents of Wadi Fukin, Husan and other towns are not allowed to cross westwards into Israel even if they have valid work permits to work in Israel. A Palestinian from Wadi Fukin who wants to build houses in Tzur Hadassah or Nes Harim nearby us would according to law have to travel into Jerusalem through the tunnel road checkpoint (east and then north) and then back around out of Jerusalem to the towns 5-10 minutes from his home. The journey would take him 1-2 hours, depending on how long he waited at the tunnel checkpoint.
Because of this, the area around my house has a constant flow of workers crossing illegally into the green line. The soldiers can never stay ahead of the traffic, much of which is on foot.
When Haaretz posted this story Tuesday night, they framed it as happening close to Beitar Illit and talked about the expansion of Beitar Illit and the context of Obama's demand to stop building in the settlements. It seems to me an equally or more crucial issue for my Palestinian neighbors is their freedom of movement and ability to earn a living. Mr. Prime Minister Netanyahu, if you care about economic peace as you say you do, please give my neighbors a legal way to get to the jobs that are awaiting them in my town and the surrounding towns. Mr. President Obama and Mr. Senator George Mitchell, don't let one issue - settlement expansion - blind you to the other important issues such as freedom and ease of movement. Readers, if you know anyone who works for these important guys, pass on this link!
P.S. Before the intifada in 2000, there were 120,000 workers from the West Bank and Gaza working inside Israel supporting 1 million family members. At the height of the intifada in 2002, 120,000 had dropped to 10,000. Readers, if you have current statistics or know where to find them, let me know.
From the official IDF website:
On Tuesday morning (Sept. 22), an Israeli Arab was hit by IDF forces that opened fire at him after he broke through a checkpoint close to Beitar Illit, west of Bethlehem, in his vehicle. He approached the checkpoint at high speed and after the soldiers fired warning shots, refused to slow down, threatening the life of the soldiers. After the vehicle broke through the checkpoint, IDF forces followed it. As they tried to stop the driver, he attempted to run them over with his vehicle. The soldiers opened fire at the vehicle and hit the driver. An IDF soldier was lightly injured in the incident.
A Magen David Adom emergency team arrived at the scene and declared the driver dead. The circumstances of the incident are currently being investigated.
The shooting apparently happened right outside the town where Sasha goes to gan - that is, across the street from the entrance to our town. I'm still trying to find out what time the incident happened and whether the driver had anyone else in his vehicle.
I found out about it because when I went to take Sasha to gan, the area at the entrance to the moshav across the way, Mevo Betar, was filled with army, police, etc. A few minutes after I dropped Sasha off, I heard on the radio about what had happened. I am sure that on the radio they said the driver who was shot was known to the security forces for transporting people illegally from the territories into Israel. But this does not appear in the official army reports.
The reason the hour that it happened is important to me and whether there were other people in the vehicle is because I think it likely this man was transporting or known for transporting illegal workers. The checkpoint he broke through is not a passage checkpoint for Palestinians. The checkpoint, which I drive through twice a day every work day, goes from my part of inside green line Israel into the West Bank. Immediately on the other side of the checkpoint are a small Arab town, Wadi Fukin, a large Arab town, Husan (60K residents) and an ultra Orthodox Jewish settlement, Beitar Illit (30K residents, median age is 11).
Because the checkpoint is not a passage checkpoint, Palestinian residents of Wadi Fukin, Husan and other towns are not allowed to cross westwards into Israel even if they have valid work permits to work in Israel. A Palestinian from Wadi Fukin who wants to build houses in Tzur Hadassah or Nes Harim nearby us would according to law have to travel into Jerusalem through the tunnel road checkpoint (east and then north) and then back around out of Jerusalem to the towns 5-10 minutes from his home. The journey would take him 1-2 hours, depending on how long he waited at the tunnel checkpoint.
Because of this, the area around my house has a constant flow of workers crossing illegally into the green line. The soldiers can never stay ahead of the traffic, much of which is on foot.
When Haaretz posted this story Tuesday night, they framed it as happening close to Beitar Illit and talked about the expansion of Beitar Illit and the context of Obama's demand to stop building in the settlements. It seems to me an equally or more crucial issue for my Palestinian neighbors is their freedom of movement and ability to earn a living. Mr. Prime Minister Netanyahu, if you care about economic peace as you say you do, please give my neighbors a legal way to get to the jobs that are awaiting them in my town and the surrounding towns. Mr. President Obama and Mr. Senator George Mitchell, don't let one issue - settlement expansion - blind you to the other important issues such as freedom and ease of movement. Readers, if you know anyone who works for these important guys, pass on this link!
P.S. Before the intifada in 2000, there were 120,000 workers from the West Bank and Gaza working inside Israel supporting 1 million family members. At the height of the intifada in 2002, 120,000 had dropped to 10,000. Readers, if you have current statistics or know where to find them, let me know.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Comes by it honestly
Gabi has a free moment with the day off school. She's sitting on the sofa studying the excel spread sheet of her class members, learning their parents' names. She tells me, "There are 4 kids in my class who live on Rechasim." I feel such a mixture of pleasure and regret seeing her occupied with the way I spend my work days.
As I clean up, or try to, I think of my Grandma, Zena, of course. There will never be a time that a household task does not have her tremendous presence looming over it. I realize the depression mentality where everything could be used and nothing should be thrown away is not an asset in the world of pre-school crafts and tiny toy parts.
I have a long list so this is a short post. Shanah tovah to all!
As I clean up, or try to, I think of my Grandma, Zena, of course. There will never be a time that a household task does not have her tremendous presence looming over it. I realize the depression mentality where everything could be used and nothing should be thrown away is not an asset in the world of pre-school crafts and tiny toy parts.
I have a long list so this is a short post. Shanah tovah to all!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
banana muffins
Mix 3 mashed bananas, 1 scant cup sugar, 1 egg, 1 tsp vanilla, , 1/2 cup apple juice, 3 tablespoons yogurt. Add 2 cups flour, 2 tsps baking soda, 1 tsp baking powder. Put in greased muffin tins and bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes. Adapted from a recipe in the Fresh Start cookbook by Julee Rosso.
zucchini bread
Mix 1 or 2 cups sugar (brown is good, recipes vary in amount) with 1 cup oil. Add 3 eggs one at a time, then 2 cups grated zucchini and 2 tsps vanilla. Sift together 3 cups flour, 1/2 tsp baking soda, 1 tsp baking powder, 1 tsp salt and 1 tsp cinnamon. Mix into the zucchini mixture and then add 1 cup craisins and 1/2 cup chopped almonds. Mix and put in 2 loaf pans. Bake at 325 for one hour. I looked at a bunch of recipes for this that are basically the same - if you want to, try a little less flour.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Doctors of Philosophy Draw Near
Woke up to a text message that our friend Rachel got her PhD - mazal tov!
As I've watched her and other friends and colleagues over the past couple of years finish their doctorates, I've had quite a few thoughts and memories about the family business - the one I did not go into - since I'm the first person in my family of origin not to get a PhD.
The title of this posting is an exciting line from maybe 1964? when I attended the ceremony where my father got his PhD. My mother's experience was a little different as was my experience of her experience. She flew to London for 2 weeks in 1968 to defend her dissertation - alone. I can only imagine what she might have felt - freedom, panic, etc. at leaving us 3 kids - aged 4, 7, and 9, or something like that. I'm sure we were fine, but the memory I have is from when my dad piled us all in the car to pick her up at the airport - our desire to have her back was at a frenzy, there was no parking, and when we finally found a space and were backing into it, some jerk came frontwards into the space. My dad got out of the car and yelled at him "can't you see I have 3 screaming kids in the car."
Not hard to figure out why I haven't jumped into the world of real higher education. That and the fact I am convinced that I lost a significant number of brain cells with each placenta.
So a warm glance of admiration with just a touch of regret to my friend now Dr., and much love to my pioneering parents, esp. my mom, and to my pioneering sister.
As I've watched her and other friends and colleagues over the past couple of years finish their doctorates, I've had quite a few thoughts and memories about the family business - the one I did not go into - since I'm the first person in my family of origin not to get a PhD.
The title of this posting is an exciting line from maybe 1964? when I attended the ceremony where my father got his PhD. My mother's experience was a little different as was my experience of her experience. She flew to London for 2 weeks in 1968 to defend her dissertation - alone. I can only imagine what she might have felt - freedom, panic, etc. at leaving us 3 kids - aged 4, 7, and 9, or something like that. I'm sure we were fine, but the memory I have is from when my dad piled us all in the car to pick her up at the airport - our desire to have her back was at a frenzy, there was no parking, and when we finally found a space and were backing into it, some jerk came frontwards into the space. My dad got out of the car and yelled at him "can't you see I have 3 screaming kids in the car."
Not hard to figure out why I haven't jumped into the world of real higher education. That and the fact I am convinced that I lost a significant number of brain cells with each placenta.
So a warm glance of admiration with just a touch of regret to my friend now Dr., and much love to my pioneering parents, esp. my mom, and to my pioneering sister.
Friday, September 4, 2009
quick dessert for Shabbat
Very quickly because I must go get the kids - cut up a bunch of plums and put them in a greased dish that goes in the over, maybe even a pie dish. Melt 1-2 tablespoons butter. Mix up one egg and one egg yolk with 1/2 cup sugar, then add 1/2 cup flour. Add the butter & mix. Spoon it on top of the plums. Bake at 350 until brown and crispy on top. This is Aunt Eva's recipe, made worse by me. You can also use peaches. Shabbat shalom!!!!
כל שנה מתחילה
בסימן שאלה
כתינוק המודד צעדיו.
כמו זריחה מתגלה
על כנרת כחולה
ופניה לשמי מערב.
כל שעה מתחילה
בסימן שאלה
כמו הלב הפועם לו קצובות.
כמו גבעול ירקרק,
שצומח בלאט
ופניו לפסגות הגבוהות.
פזמון:
זה נפלא ששנה מתחילה לה
בשיר וברוח טובה
כל שנה מתחילה בסימן שאלה ואנחנו נמצא לה תשובה.
כל שניה מתחילה
בסימן שאלה
ולפני שתשיב היא תחמוק
כמו ליטוף רוח ים
שעולה מאי שם
ניגונה עוד נשמע מרחוק.
פזמון:
זה נפלא ששנה מתחילה לה
בשיר וברוח טובה
כל שנה מתחילה בסימן שאלה ואנחנו נמצא לה תשובה
hear a not so exciting version at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0l7h51zZpM
בסימן שאלה
כתינוק המודד צעדיו.
כמו זריחה מתגלה
על כנרת כחולה
ופניה לשמי מערב.
כל שעה מתחילה
בסימן שאלה
כמו הלב הפועם לו קצובות.
כמו גבעול ירקרק,
שצומח בלאט
ופניו לפסגות הגבוהות.
פזמון:
זה נפלא ששנה מתחילה לה
בשיר וברוח טובה
כל שנה מתחילה בסימן שאלה ואנחנו נמצא לה תשובה.
כל שניה מתחילה
בסימן שאלה
ולפני שתשיב היא תחמוק
כמו ליטוף רוח ים
שעולה מאי שם
ניגונה עוד נשמע מרחוק.
פזמון:
זה נפלא ששנה מתחילה לה
בשיר וברוח טובה
כל שנה מתחילה בסימן שאלה ואנחנו נמצא לה תשובה
hear a not so exciting version at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0l7h51zZpM
Why I moved to Tzur Hadassah
Today's ceremony welcoming Kitah Aleph to school had everything I moved to Tzur Hadassah for. I have to be honest that I am trying to repair certain things from my childhood with my children and I know that they, in turn, will have their own issues. Nonetheless, a big part of our move to Tzur Hadassah two plus years ago had to do with schools. I saw how kids in Jerusalem were all over the city as the parents tried to find the best education for them, and I wanted something different for my kids. I also went to elementary school in a big city - to kindergarten at a local school having been schooled the year before in England - which had connected events I've been recovering from for 20 years - and the year before that somewhat in Cambridge, Massachusetts. First grade saw me at a new school again, travelling by bus to Falk Elementary School, a private school where I spent grades 1-7, along with my siblings.
I wanted my kids to go to a school with their neighbors and we moved to a small town with one elementary school. It's the largest elementary school in our region. Today Gabi's first grade class, together with 3 other classes, was welcomed to school in a large ceremony on the school field (it's blacktop). They have just put up a giant shade there - not the soft type, it's like a roof - and it has a good feature of improving the sound quality (so Alen told me).
The ceremony was lovely. The classes marched in in their special white shirts, and were greeting by the 2nd grade, who stood behind them to help them sing the school song. Another song, "Every year begins with a question mark" was sung - it's a popular song here - I'll try to post the words. Then the kids sat down and were greeted by various second grade kids, a representative from each other class, and dignitaries including the head of our region. They ended with each class dancing in a circle, and the first grade parents joined the kids for the dancing. And then Hatikvah.
I know that in order for this country to become rightly the country of all its citizens, we need a new national anthem. Nonetheless, I can't help but cry when I hear Hatikvah and realize where I am living and raising my children. My ancestors could only have dreamed of that (and of our unusual family!).
At the ceremony, one of the speakers talked about how first we want to give the kids a feeling of belonging and safety, and in that, they can learn. Feelings of belonging and safety have been hard to come by for me, for many reasons. In part because of childhood trauma, in part because of my family's many moves, in part because of what it means to be a Jew in the Diaspora, in part because of my own sensory issues and moodiness, in part because of being gay, and on and on. When I saw Gabi sitting at her table the first day of first grade with two girls she's been with now for 2 years and who go to our shul, I knew something is right about what I'm trying to give her. And I'm very grateful.
I wanted my kids to go to a school with their neighbors and we moved to a small town with one elementary school. It's the largest elementary school in our region. Today Gabi's first grade class, together with 3 other classes, was welcomed to school in a large ceremony on the school field (it's blacktop). They have just put up a giant shade there - not the soft type, it's like a roof - and it has a good feature of improving the sound quality (so Alen told me).
The ceremony was lovely. The classes marched in in their special white shirts, and were greeting by the 2nd grade, who stood behind them to help them sing the school song. Another song, "Every year begins with a question mark" was sung - it's a popular song here - I'll try to post the words. Then the kids sat down and were greeted by various second grade kids, a representative from each other class, and dignitaries including the head of our region. They ended with each class dancing in a circle, and the first grade parents joined the kids for the dancing. And then Hatikvah.
I know that in order for this country to become rightly the country of all its citizens, we need a new national anthem. Nonetheless, I can't help but cry when I hear Hatikvah and realize where I am living and raising my children. My ancestors could only have dreamed of that (and of our unusual family!).
At the ceremony, one of the speakers talked about how first we want to give the kids a feeling of belonging and safety, and in that, they can learn. Feelings of belonging and safety have been hard to come by for me, for many reasons. In part because of childhood trauma, in part because of my family's many moves, in part because of what it means to be a Jew in the Diaspora, in part because of my own sensory issues and moodiness, in part because of being gay, and on and on. When I saw Gabi sitting at her table the first day of first grade with two girls she's been with now for 2 years and who go to our shul, I knew something is right about what I'm trying to give her. And I'm very grateful.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Independence and Leadership
Just so you know, they called that night from the grocery delivery to get our payment information.
I told my students today that independence is not valued in this culture and they should stop trying to do things on their own. They should only do something after asking someone how it is done here. Nothing works the same here as what they expect. A student went to open a checking account and was told he would have to put 3000 NIS on deposit in the bank in order to have an account on which he could write checks. So he did it although he actually needed that money to live on. The assumption from his past experience - they told me I have to do it so it must be true. My intervention got them down to 1000 NIS, because I don't know them. At the bank where I have connections, no deposit necessary. After 8 years, all this is obvious to me. Eight years ago, I had no idea. The city was on strike, is now off strike. I was trying to explain to the students why a strike is good, because you don't have to make any efforts to deal with bureaucracy if they are on strike. They looked at me like I had 3 heads.
Lay leadership - I've been a rabbi of a congregation and now I am the partner of a lay leader and I guess something of a lay leader myself and I can tell you, being a rabbi is way easier. A rabbi gets a paycheck and in a good situation, also kudos and respect. A lay leader puts in hours upon hours and gets to pay for the privilege. Kudos and respect are also optional it seems. I've always had a lot of respect for lay leaders, but it's growing every day.
Please comment on this blog. I like writing it, but I'd like it better knowing there were readers out there!
I told my students today that independence is not valued in this culture and they should stop trying to do things on their own. They should only do something after asking someone how it is done here. Nothing works the same here as what they expect. A student went to open a checking account and was told he would have to put 3000 NIS on deposit in the bank in order to have an account on which he could write checks. So he did it although he actually needed that money to live on. The assumption from his past experience - they told me I have to do it so it must be true. My intervention got them down to 1000 NIS, because I don't know them. At the bank where I have connections, no deposit necessary. After 8 years, all this is obvious to me. Eight years ago, I had no idea. The city was on strike, is now off strike. I was trying to explain to the students why a strike is good, because you don't have to make any efforts to deal with bureaucracy if they are on strike. They looked at me like I had 3 heads.
Lay leadership - I've been a rabbi of a congregation and now I am the partner of a lay leader and I guess something of a lay leader myself and I can tell you, being a rabbi is way easier. A rabbi gets a paycheck and in a good situation, also kudos and respect. A lay leader puts in hours upon hours and gets to pay for the privilege. Kudos and respect are also optional it seems. I've always had a lot of respect for lay leaders, but it's growing every day.
Please comment on this blog. I like writing it, but I'd like it better knowing there were readers out there!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
You know you are not in the USA when...
I ordered groceries online yesterday to be delivered today. There was no place to put my credit card information. My co-worker called her friend who had used the service, who reported that I would get a call a couple of days after the groceries arrived, checking that all was in order and taking my credit card info. So we have the groceries, but so far have not paid.
????? Can you imagine this happening in the US????
????? Can you imagine this happening in the US????
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Good times and frustration
So today we went to Kiftzuba, which is I guess is a local equivalent of Sesame Place or something like that. The kids had a great time, we survived, and the only bad part was forgetting to bring the camera. I even went on a bouncy castle type thing - Gabi gave me instructions on what to do there :-)
Friday we had intended to go to the pool but we weren't sure if it was open so we wound up hiking near here. The road from Beit Shemesh up the hill past Tzur Hadassah is an old Roman Road. On the path we were on (it's to the right if you are coming up the hill - look for the Keren Kayemet sign for Beit HaBad) we saw an old Roman column that had broken and collapsed - there was only one column and we weren't sure what it would have been for - a milepost? At the beginning of the path - quite far from the column - was the Beit HaBad which is some kind of oil press.
The frustration - after we both went months ago and signed Gabi up for first grade, she appears on the class list with only one parent (me). Not only do we have to correct this at the school office (where we were very clear on registering her that she has 2 legal parents), but I have to track down whether this is an issue at the education dept. and the interior ministry where all the kids are registered. Maybe it's related to the social security letter I got about a benefit for single parents. Wish me luck!
Friday we had intended to go to the pool but we weren't sure if it was open so we wound up hiking near here. The road from Beit Shemesh up the hill past Tzur Hadassah is an old Roman Road. On the path we were on (it's to the right if you are coming up the hill - look for the Keren Kayemet sign for Beit HaBad) we saw an old Roman column that had broken and collapsed - there was only one column and we weren't sure what it would have been for - a milepost? At the beginning of the path - quite far from the column - was the Beit HaBad which is some kind of oil press.
The frustration - after we both went months ago and signed Gabi up for first grade, she appears on the class list with only one parent (me). Not only do we have to correct this at the school office (where we were very clear on registering her that she has 2 legal parents), but I have to track down whether this is an issue at the education dept. and the interior ministry where all the kids are registered. Maybe it's related to the social security letter I got about a benefit for single parents. Wish me luck!
The name of the blog
So, I decided to call my blog Yabiah Omer - this is from Psalm 19:2 -
יום ליום יביע אומר, לילה ללילה יחוה דעת
A possible translation: Day after day expresses speech; night to night gives knowledge. (Let me know a better one if you can.)
Those of you in the know will realize that Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef has used this expression as the title for one of his books, but I decided not to let that stop me. I used this title because the word to express, yabiah, is related to the word for bubble, buah.
I'm endlessly fascinated and disturbed by the changes in the meaning of language in this age of facebook, etc. And the bubble quality of language, something that appears and disappears, is so real to me right now. So this line from Psalm 19 really captures it for me. See Psalm 94:4 for a less positive context of this idea of bubble talk.
The bird is a European Bee Eater. I saw two yesterday flying over the playground in old Tzur Hadassah. The photo was taken by Karen Benzian.
יום ליום יביע אומר, לילה ללילה יחוה דעת
A possible translation: Day after day expresses speech; night to night gives knowledge. (Let me know a better one if you can.)
Those of you in the know will realize that Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef has used this expression as the title for one of his books, but I decided not to let that stop me. I used this title because the word to express, yabiah, is related to the word for bubble, buah.
I'm endlessly fascinated and disturbed by the changes in the meaning of language in this age of facebook, etc. And the bubble quality of language, something that appears and disappears, is so real to me right now. So this line from Psalm 19 really captures it for me. See Psalm 94:4 for a less positive context of this idea of bubble talk.
The bird is a European Bee Eater. I saw two yesterday flying over the playground in old Tzur Hadassah. The photo was taken by Karen Benzian.
Yes, I've started a blog
I decided to start a blog because of what's going on behind my house. Last summer, when there were random terror attacks by tractor, my son was fascinated by the tractor digging behind our house. It was such a strange feeling - something to fear versus something fascinating. Then this summer, as two houses are being constructed to block our view (nah, he's not planning to build, the realtors said 2 years ago - not that I ever believed them), we spent over a week watching several Arab workers laboring every day to build the MaMaD - Makom Mugan Dirati - sealed room, that every Israeli apartment and home is now built with. It was a long and complex process.
Now I'm thinking, these guys are most likely from Husan, the largest Arab town right across the green line from us, about 5 minutes drive. If the Iranians attack us, they'll be just as endangered - do they have such rooms?? (A rhetorical question.) And if the attack is from closer in, then it's probably coming right from Husan, and the attackers will be these guys, or perhaps their neighbors. Isn't this all just a little too weird?
The sealed room is now done - the walls of the house are going up. I'll keep you posted.
Now I'm thinking, these guys are most likely from Husan, the largest Arab town right across the green line from us, about 5 minutes drive. If the Iranians attack us, they'll be just as endangered - do they have such rooms?? (A rhetorical question.) And if the attack is from closer in, then it's probably coming right from Husan, and the attackers will be these guys, or perhaps their neighbors. Isn't this all just a little too weird?
The sealed room is now done - the walls of the house are going up. I'll keep you posted.
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