"יהיה בסדר"...or, Lauren's Aliyah Something

Finding My Place as an OT

2012-01-05T10:46:00.002+02:00

In NY-- wait, let me back up.

How I became an OT (occupational therapist) starts before my older sister started college-- or maybe grad school, I don't remember which. She wanted to be a physical therapist (a PT), so I said, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll be a physical therapist, too." So I decided to study physical therapy (PT) (not knowing much about it, just that people who hurt themselves or had strokes went. Like my Grandma, after she had a stroke).
I applied for a joint 5-year undergrad/graduate program in PT and got in. But I would have to take physics. People who know me know that math and I don't get along too well, and I won't do math if I can avoid it. Physics...math...pass. So I looked into occupational therapy (OT), because I didn't really know what the difference was (OT, PT-- there's a difference?) so I started talking to people and one OT told me that she had never met any OTs who wanted to be PTs but had met PTs who wanted to be OTs. That was a powerful statement to me so I decided to do OT. Volunteered, etc., got into OT school.

During OT school I decided that I wasn't going to work with kids, because I worked had with them enough and even though I was really good at it, enough. So I did my specialty in hand therapy and liked. I also really, REALLY liked working with stroke patients.

Fast forward to 2008, when I pass my OT exam and have to start looking for work. Decide to work in the school system because I get summers off, and it's with kids...and I work well with kids. I went to my first school and the other para-professional (OT, PT, SLPs) were fantastic to work with. The building not so fantastic to work in (as in, I got sick from the building). I transferred to two other schools and I was finally starting to find my place as an OT and feel like I knew something and I decided to make aliyah in the middle of the year. I went to ulpan and decided that for the next school year I wanted to work in the school system-- after all, I liked it in NY.

I tried to get in touch with the body of misrad hachinuch that deals with therapist placement but and all they said was, "Send a resume." So I went directly to misrad hachinuch to talk to them and got sent to a supervisor for special education. I explained to her what I did in NY and asked her about OTs in regular schools and she said that didn't exist and there were only special-ed only schools. So I went to a couple of schools. Didn't fit in too well, and it was just very tough to get into the system-- totally different than I was used to and thought. I stayed in one of the schools for this year and went to another school also.

I'm still not fitting in-- the principals don't see me differentiating myself as an OT in the school, bringing my qualities and.... I'm going to look into kupot cholim for next year, but I really want to work with special ed classes in regular schools.

...to be continued...

Shloofy time

2012-01-02T00:15:00.002+02:00

It's after midnight. I'm tired. I need to go to sleep, considering I haven't done enough of that since I got back to Israel about 4 days ago.

But I haven't updated in a while, therefore I would like to update to let you all know that I am alive and kicking.

Real update when I can focus. But hi, everyone. I'm still here.

Rather, I'm back here.

Wedding updates

2011-11-29T08:03:00.002+02:00

So to goal is to have the major things set by Chanukah-- hall, band, photographer. Dress I'm going to work on in NY; I want to try my sister's.

We're getting there. The wedding is going to be a couple weeks before Pesach, apparently in continuation of his unofficial family tradition (his siblings got married also a couple weeks before Pesach).

So in Israel (and in the Jewish world in general, but in Israel it stands out even more) there are different Rabbis who give kosher certification. We have guests from all spectrums of Judaism, and we want to make sure that everyone can eat everything at the wedding. Which is a lot of fun (and I say that with a heavy dose of sarcasm, in case you missed that). So...yeah...that's a huge stressor, because we need to find a place that everyone can eat at.

Photographer and band-- there are so many great options. We know that we really want the pictures to be good, because that's what's going to last. Band-- neither of us really have a strong opinion either way. There is someone who his mom got in touch with who they like and I heard a few clips and it sounds fine. There are two otehr bands I want to check out, but as long as the band doesn't sound BAD-- I'm fine with it.

And so it continues.

Wedding Planning part II

2011-11-20T00:07:00.002+02:00

Last week Eli and I went with his mom to look at a few places in Beit Shemesh. But if we're going to have to get a ha'sa'ah (bus) anyway, we might as well go to Mitzpe Yericho, which I think is beautiful and already like. And it's near-ish to Jerusalem. We're going to look at some halls in Talpiyot, but the catch is there is a minhag that his family holds by to not have live music within Jerusalem because of a plague...anyway, but Talpiyot is considered outside of Jerusalem for that purpose, so there is fine.

We need to find a photographer, a band, and I need a hair/makeup person (or people). Suggestions are welcome.

Wow. I'm getting married.

We went to a store today because I found these really awesome dishracks that I got for my apartment, and we got them. Our first purchase for our home. Milchig and fleishig-- we want to get a different kind (fold-up) for pareve.

Weddings, Israeli style

2011-11-13T12:43:00.004+02:00

I called my house in NY today and talked to my mom about flights to NY over Chanukah. She asked me if Eli was going to bring a suit to NY, and I told her that we had discussed it and...we're Israeli. Israelis don't do suits. But Eli actually is thinking about getting one in NY, because they're better quality there.

I should probably back up now and explain who Eli is. Eli is my-- ok, big word here-- chatan [fiancee]. It's hitting me slowly...I'm getting married.

We're so right. His sister is the one who set us up, and as she put it, "You get him and he gets you." Everyone else saw this but us. Isn't that fantastic?

I'm whelmed.

More on this later when I can process and as I go through this next stage in my aliyah and klitah: Getting Married and Building a Bayit Ne'eman B'Yisrael B'Yisrael [A True House of Israel in Israel].

Here goes.

Kever Rachel

2011-11-08T20:38:00.002+02:00

In commemoration of Rachel Imenu's [our foremother Rachel's] yahrtzeit, there have been lots of buses running to Kever Rachel [Rachel's tomb]. So I went with a couple of my co-workers after we finished work.

It wasn't as packed as I thought it would be-- there was actually some room to walk around. When we left there was a giant truck with cold drinks and a station for coffee and rugelach. I wasn't able to take a picture, but next to each drink (you know the drink machines that you open the spout and just put your cup under? -well, maybe reverse the order- Those.) there was a sign of what/who to have in mind as you made the bracha [blessing]-- for example, a speedy recovery for so-and-so, etc.. Only in Israel.

There were tons of people handing out leaflets and small prayer booklets and asking for tzedekah.

Happy Moments in The Life of an Olah

2011-10-31T23:57:00.002+02:00

#758324972: Hearing people in your school speak in Hebrew and it not being strange or feeling the least bit odd.

That makes me smile.

What Would You Do?

2011-10-24T00:15:00.003+02:00

There is a letter going around, written by a naval commando:

If, God forbid, I arrive at a situation where a terrorist organization shall take me prisoner, I ask of you: Do not protest, do not give interviews, do not tell share how much it hurts you, do not have festivals in my name. Every novice salesman knows: that is not how you lower the price.
I am NOT “everyone’s child.” I am a warrior who has fallen captive.
Do NOT turn me into a tool: I do not want the whole world to know who my identity and my name at a time when nobody remembers the soldier who was killed by my side. I do not want the press to make rounds about me, I do not want to turn into a political axe used for digging political agendas, power games, and manipulations. I do not want to be the entry door for the “Israeli consensus.” I am not ready for the idea that my release will turn into a dogma that cannot be reconsidered. I do not want those who dare think differently to have their mouths shut. I do not want the press to use me to raise their ratings, and I do not want singers to write songs in order to improve their results in Google.
I am not a milk carton: do not make a logo out of my picture, do not make my face your profile picture, do not make my shadow into a slogan. Do not hire PR firms in order to manipulate public opinion and the opinion of those who make decisions. Do not establish a creative team, an optimization team, a marketing team, a staff, or work meetings with cookies and presentations. Do not make a brainstorming team or create a tide of public opinion. Do not build a PR budget and market penetration. Do not sketch strategies. Do not divide the public into graphs and tables. I do not want “expert panels,” I do not want conventions, I do not want them to count the number of days I have been sitting prisoner, I do not want depression contractors to make a career out of my story. Do not produce pins and flags and ties and shirts in my name. Do not make parades and demonstrations and protest signature booths on campuses. It lowers my chances of being released and it throws sand in the eyes of the decision makers. I am not a reality show: do not come to take a picture with my father as a souvenir at the time when thousands of murderers are being released for me. I do not want the blue and white flag to be raised at a time when the entire atmosphere screams white flag. I do not want to see a cold blooded murderer of sixteen people be released with a smile, especially just several years after he gave the victory sign to the victims’ families in court. I am not ready that hundreds of families who just recently buried babies should explode in fury and be called in public the “party poopers.” I am not ready that a boy who went to eat pizza with his mother, father, and three brothers—and came back alone, should watch a murderer eat baklawa in a victory hut twenty kilometers away from him. I do not want murderers who are released to East Jerusalem to ride the train together with my niece. I do not want families whose entire world has collapsed to hear that the murderer of their loved one has gone to Club Med in Turkey. I do not want their pain should receive an eighth of a page just before the sports section because it is “proper reporting.” They already know that the blood of their children is cheap. You do not need to trample on their hearts and twist your foot while you are at it. It really comforts me that the president says that he pardons but does not forgive. I do not want the next Intifada to be named after me.

Sincerely,
Y., Naval Commando

It's a funny thing...people go to the army knowing in the back of their minds that-- they could die. But that doesn't happen to most people, so it is able to go to the back.

I think that everyone in Israel knows someone or is someone who has lost a relative or friend in an act of war or terrorism. That's a pretty sobering thought when you actually stop and think about it.

I know that I would want everything done for me if I was, G-d forbid, captured and held. But...I think...I would rather be held, and, yes, die than let terrorists with blood on their hands go free and go kill more than they have already killed. On the other hand, my family and friends would probably want anything to be done in order to get me out and they probably would not like my stance.

נכנס עייפות, יוצא כל מיני...לילה טוב, עולם. Good night, world.

Overwhelmed by emotion and don't know what to do

2011-10-18T23:33:00.004+02:00

I am so overwhelmed by conflicting emotions and I can't...separate them.

Gilad is home. After five and a half years, he is home. He has been welcomed by everyone, and no one is angry at Gilad for the trade that happened. Amazing, isn't it? Everyone is happy that he's home, alive.

Terrorists with actual blood on their hands were let free to redeem one person, one soldier, one Israeli. No one is mad at Gilad, no one is angry at him. At the government, at the army, at the president and prime minister for letting out mass murderers who will kill again, and are already inciting and planning to kill more Jews and Israelis-- yes. But I don't think there is anyone who is not happy that Gilad is back home.

I sent an sms to an Arab former coworker (he switched areas of practice), who lives in Silwan, asking him what it was like in his neighborhood. He said that it was crazy, and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get home (he was at work). Nothing like that here-- people in Mitzpe Hila I'm sure had lots of street closures, but no riots.

I'm terrified of what is going to happen now that these 1027 terrorists have been let out and while not all of them have been allowed back to where they came from, they will still do their evil work from wherever they are.

That's the conflict: Joy over Gilad being back; Anger at the government for allowing so many murderers to go free; Fear of what will happen now that these terrorists are free and able to get back to attacking freely.

I pray that Gilad will be able to sleep tonight, in his own bed, peacefully, back in his home. May he be able to move past the hell that was the past 1,941 days and nights and continue his life in health, happiness, and peace from here on.

He's home

2011-10-18T11:08:00.002+02:00

After 5-and-a-half years, he's home.

I am amazed at and by the country in which I live.

Feeling...unknown quantity

2011-10-12T00:00:00.002+02:00

There is another post in the queue, but that one is going to take a little longer than this one.

Gilah Shalit is coming home. After 5 years, he is finally going to be home. And in exchange, Israel is releasing 1000 terrorists.

I am so happy he's coming home (the cynic in me is waiting to rejoice until he is actually back), and the other part of me is going, "So this is the new tactic...kidnap an Israeli, wait 5 years, then get 1000 prisoners released to go kill again."

I don't know what I feel. I do, actually: Confused.

Yom Kippur Thoughts

2011-10-08T21:02:00.002+02:00

Erev Yom Kippur night there were selichot [special prayers that are recited, asking for forgiveness] at the Kotel [Western Wall] with HaRav Shlomo Amar and Harav Ovadiah Yosef [Chief Sephardi Rabbi of Israel and former Chief Sephardi Rabbi of Israel/current spiritual leader of the Shas political party in Israel]. The place was PACKED. I was there on shift with Magen David Adom and from about midnight on it was hopping-- I know I took out about 3 people, plus was treating in the tent. The annoying thing was that my ambulance left without me, which meant that I got home at 4 instead of 2:30-ish. Meh.

So-- Yom Kippur. I don't know how successful it was from G-d's perspective, but when YK ended I felt...good.

And one of the best parts? Between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur the buses said "Chatimah tovah," which is the traditional greeting for that time period.

Rosh Hashana thoughts

2011-10-01T23:29:00.002+03:00

First thought: Thank goodness we don't have 3-day chagim here, besides Rosh Hashana.

Now for the more serious, reflective thoughts.

On Wednesday, Erev Rosh Hashana, before I left Jerusalem for the holiday, I went to the Kotel [the Western Wall], which is actually part of the retaining wall around the Temple courtyard, and the physical remnant that we have today of what was. It's a holy place, a very holy place. On the way there, something strange happened to me. People always talk about Jerusalem air feeling different, or there being a different atmosphere/feeling in Jerusalem on Shabbat [the Sabbath] and holidays, but I don't really feel it (maybe I'm spoiled because I live here?). This year I wasn't feeling the whole "ok, Rosh Hashana is coming" thing-- really, until Wednesday. When I walked out of my building I felt something-- almost like an anticipation in the air. And when I got to the Old City, as I walked into the Jewish quarter, I actually felt a change. Like I walked through an invisible barrier that nobody told me about and the atmosphere felt different. Holier, waiting, anticipating, a little more busy somehow.

I walked to the Kotel with that feeling and it struck me as strange that the Kotel was so empty. Ok, it was-- what? 12:30 on Erev Rosh Hashana-- but still...On the upside, I found a spot by the Kotel quickly. I davened. I just needed to be there-- I hadn't been since I got back from NY, and I missed it.

I feel like I kind of wonder, "Where did Rosh Hashana go?" It kind of just...passed.

So a bracha [blessing] for this new year that has just begun: May we be blessed with health, happiness, financial stability, the realization of dreams that we didn't even know existed, the strength to overcome the challenges that come our way, and-- peace. Both in the world overall, and within ourselves. May my small country be blessed with peace, safety, the ability to defend ourselves without international criticism (until peace happens) appropriate rainfall and may all the captives be returned home.

Shana tova u'metuka, u'mevorachat [a good, sweet, and blessed year].

Family, Relationships, and Being 6000 Miles Away When Your New Niece is Born

2011-09-17T23:59:00.004+03:00

I have a new niece. Her name is Smushy (according to her Doda Lauren, that is; other family members call her by the name on her birth certificate). She is adorable and wonderful...and 6000 miles away. Which sucks.

When I moved here, I had one niece who was old enough to look at me on the computer, identify me by sight, and semi-carry a conversation. Our conversations have since progressed to playing hide-and-seek, making faces at each other, and her telling me about her day. Smushy can't do that yet; as an infant, she knows people by voice (sound), smell, and feel, mostly the middle and last ones now. I won't be seeing my niece until she's about 9 months old (assuming I go back to NY for the summer like I plan to). I held Squishy the day she was born; Smushy is going to be 9 months old before I hold her or see her in real life, and she might not even let me hold her because she won't know me. That really, really sucks; my own niece who I love so much not even knowing me.

I knew that at some point this would happen. I don't expect my family and friends to stop living their lives because I'm not there, but each time something big happens there, it hurts and it's hard. I'm happy here, I really am. It's just hard when life events happen without you there.

I don't even want to think about when more family and friends get engaged, married, and have kids and I won't be there.

This was depressing. Sorry. But this is one of the hardest-hitting and most bringing-you-down-to-reality, if you will, parts of making aliyah without all of your family and friends.

A thought on terrorism

2011-09-12T19:01:00.003+03:00

I was watching a video set to "Little Did She Know [She Kissed a Hero]" by Kristy Jackson when I was struck by something.

September 11 is THE defining event in American history for terrorism, when America became a target and she had her terrorism on her mainland soil. There is no ONE defining event for that in Israel. Israel is, for good or for bad (and for lack of a better word), used to terrorism. In Israel it's a part of daily life; not that there are bombs going off every day, thank G-d, but in that you're a little more aware and a little more alert in general. But there is no ONE defining moment that people can say, "This event brought home the concept of terror." In Israel everyone has his or her own event that has defined terrorism for him or her. Kind of scary.

9/11-- 10 years

2011-09-11T21:53:00.002+03:00

I was in school when the Towers were hit and fell. We had just finished davening and were going to our first period classes.

The Brooklyn buses said something about the Twin Towers being hit by a plane, but it was on Z100 and they were never serious, but...really? Why would they say THAT?

So we went to our classes, and we started hearing more. I turned my walkman on to 1010 WINS (an AM news station) and they were saying the same thing...so it was true... Mrs. Brand (the principal) made an announcement over the loudspeaker to bring our siddurim to the multipurpose room; I wondered if that was how Israelis felt when there was an attack, but I also thought that this was a much larger scale than any attack there. We didn't have classes the rest of the day. People whose parents and other family members were in the area were calling and trying to get through-- I made sure that my Dad wasn't downtown that day, because sometimes he worked downtown. He wasn't.

At first the bridges were closed so all of the Queens girls were offering to have non-Queens people stay over, but they they opened the bridges. On the way back to the my house I saw a huge column and plume of black smoke where Manhattan was-- that was it, just thick black and dark grey smoke.

The news was the same for two days-- same video clips, same audio bites, same images. Occasionally a press conference here, a new clip there. Eventually I shut it off. The city literally shut down.

They were asking for blood donations, but I was too young to donate. Turned out they had more than enough blood, because so many people died and didn't need it.

It's been 10 years, and I still remember there were lines at the pay phones and people trying to get through to families, and my friend's relief when she found out that her father who was there was okay. I can still see the smoke and remember how it felt to not be able to see Manhattan, just a darkness where it should have been.

Brucha ha'shava!

2011-08-31T23:41:00.002+03:00

Or, I'm back!

Got in Tuesday morning at about 6:30, was at work by about 10, got home, napped for an hour and went to sleep at a slightly-later-than-I-would-have-liked 1:30 am, and went to work today also.

It is time for me to go to bed, because tomorrow is the first day of school at my new school! Wish me luck!

Stormwatch 2011: Irene

2011-08-29T02:54:00.004+03:00

Storm hit. Not too much damage in my area, although there was significant damage from fallen trees and flooding-- lots of flooding. A sinkhole actually opened up in my general area and cars fell in. Oops.

I predicted that my flight would be 3-12 hours delayed. As of this morning it was on-time, despite the airport being closed. I kept checking the airline website, and once I saw that the later Sunday flights were canceled I called the airline to find out what was going on with my flight. They said it was still on time and would be leaving as planned.

Well, I then read a news reports (actually, two) said that the airports were closed and would remain closed until Monday afternoon, possibly even Tuesday morning. So I called again. This time I got to a wonderful agent who told me that, yes, my flight was on time and there was even a flight leaving Tel Aviv that would get to the airport around 5 am. He insisted this, despite the Port Authority's statement that the airports were closed.

At about 5 pm I got a message that my flight was delayed until 1300 the next day. Kol hakavod ElAl, for realizing that your planes cannot fly in/out of a closed airport. So I went out to see my Bubby and Zaidy and then some other friends. Yay for getting to see people!

More later.

Storm watch

2011-08-26T06:09:00.002+03:00

Yeah, so I might not be back in time to go to my schools before school starts in a week...great way to start the year off in a new school.

On the upside, I am not upset about having more time with my family here.

מתעצבנת על העולם- Annoyed at the world

2011-08-25T05:41:00.002+03:00

I have four more days here, including Shabbos. So really, about 3.5 (counting Friday and motza"sh as one).
I. Am. Screwed. There is no way that all my stuff that I'm planning on taking will fit into my suitcases, even with being overweight. So I guess I'm leaving a bunch of it here (mostly seforim, reading books, cookbooks, and textbooks, all which would be good to have), which is annoying but I will live. It could be worse-- I could have only one suitcase.

Oh, and did I mention that there is a hurricane that may affect (read: delay) my flight? Fan-tas-tic.

From my actual journal

2011-08-22T06:14:00.003+03:00

I have this blog, but I also have an actual handwritten journal that spans a few notebooks. I started journaling in college, often using the back of a small notebook that I carried for last-minute reminders, shopping lists, packing lists, and recipes. Those backs of notebooks have since been upgraded to their own notebooks, and my journal now spans multiple notebooks.

This was written earlier this evening (there are occasional translations that I put in, which are translations and are not in my actual journal. They are marked. Other than that, it's exactly how it is written in my journal):

August 21, 2011- 9:39 pm- 96 st.- waiting for the 2 home
Home. Always that funny (not really) word followed-- accompanied by-- a feeling of duality and confusion. Oh joy.
But that wasn't the point of this.
I'm on my way back from a date. Date was nice and it would be nice to see this guy again. But he's not planning on making aliyah in the near future. [Note to self: (a) Just because someone served in the Israeli army doesn't mean they want to live there; (b) Doesn't mean they speak Hebrew; (c) Ask that question BEFORE you ask them out. End note.]
We kind of were leaving it as, it would be nice to go out again- maybe before I go back. But I didn't ~~think~~ feel that was right, because I know that I want to live in Israel. I could live in the US-- or somewhere outside of Israel-- for a bit, but I want to raise my family there. Despite the educational system which I hate. No, hate is too strong a word-- it should be reserved for things that deserve it-- like Hamas, Hezbollah, and Ahmadinejad. Anyway. Digression.
I was walking down the hill in VV this past Shabbos and I thought, "Well-- what if I get married and moved to America for a year or two?" And felt like I was going to cry. Actually cry. Doesn't really make sense, but I feel like I want my shana rishona [edit that was not in my journal: shana rishona = first year, referring to the first year of marriage] to be...not holy, that's not the right word- But I want it to be in Israel.
Anyway, so I didn't feel it was right, blah-blah, but I felt that an explanation was warranted. So I told him about the person who I could have married, had I stayed here. And I felt myself getting very quiet-- not my voice, because I still need that conviction to remind myself and help myself recognize that it was right-- but I think-- for the first time I felt a measure of peace with that decision. It still isn't total at-peace with the decision, but it's the most שלם [edit that was not in my journal: That word transliterates to "shah-laym," which in Hebrew litereally means "wholeness," but when someone is "shalem" with something it means they've kind of made peace with it and they're ok with it] I've felt with it in two years. Just amazing.

I think it's good I took the train home tonight. Writing is good for me.

10:20 pm:
Even if I could live here-- I've changed-- too much, I think, for him. He ~~still~~ loves the pre-aliyah Lauren, and that's not who I am now. זה מה שיש [edit that was not in my journal: Those words transliterate to, "zeh mah sheh-yesh," which in Hebrew means, "that's what there is," kind of like, "it is what it is."

Double-U. Tee. Eff.

2011-08-19T04:51:00.003+03:00

In case some of you missed the news, there were multiple coordinated terror attacks today in Southern Israel. Here is Google News' roundup (pretty large selection, and not half-bad). To make it a little clearer: The attacks were aimed at a passenger bus, a group of soldiers, and private (civilian) cars. The current death toll from those fired on is 8. That would be 8 too many people.

The recording of the call as it was received by Magen David Adom (EMS) here

I'm not usually a political person and really prefer to have as little to do with politics as possible (and I moved to Israel from NY, where it doesn't really matter what I vote, it's a Democratic state...why?) but this makes me mad. Pissed off. My friend who lives in the South where missiles and rockets are fired at pretty much every day put this message on her facebook status: A mis queridos vecinos en Gaza, ESTA NOCHE ME GUSTARIA DORMIR. gracias. [My dear neighbors in Gaza, TONIGHT I WANT TO SLEEP. thank you.]" I don't live in the South, nor do I get woken up by sirens warning me of impending missile/rocket arrivals. But my friends do. Other people living in that area do.

Israel struck back today, and 7 terrorists who did this are dead. But for those 7, there are 7,000 (yes, I meant that number-- there are probably 70,000, but hey...) more to continue what those 7 started. And that, dear readers, is what my country deals with.

But is Israel safe? The answer is, yes. I am more scared that something will happen to me here in NY than in Israel. I don't fear the terrorists-- I don't remember who said it, but "Every bullet has its destination." If I'm going to. G-d forbid, be injured or killed-- it doesn't matter if I'm in NY, Israel, or Japan. Also, the attacks that are prevented aren't on the news. But it doesn't scare me to live in Israel.

I was walking with my friend yesterday by Union Square, and the was a suitcase just sitting there in the middle of the pedestrian plaza area. I turned to my friend (who is also Israeli) and said, "What does that say about me if I saw that suitcase and my first reaction was to call the police?" And then we just laughed and continued walking, not giving it a second thought (a person came and took it anyway). Like I said in a previous post-- it's an extra or heightened awareness to something that looks off. Not fear.

Relationship changes, II

2011-08-14T10:41:00.002+03:00

Again-- another follow up that I didn't plan.

On A Soldier's Mother, she posted this about moments that she had with her son during the army, when she would take him to/from base and conversations that they would have.
I started reading the blog again (aka, when I remember...?) and replied to that post with the following comment: "Secret that Eli(e) isn't going to tell you, because I wouldn't say it to my parents-- it's just one of those things we (kids) don't really say because it opens up a certain vulnerability that we don't want to admit we have: despite being technically grown-ups, we still need you (parents) and value what you have to say as long as it's not forced on us.
But those times that you (parents) give us (kids) rides and there's no pressure like you just say, "Hey, want a ride?" just to make our lives easier even though we could be fine without it-- those are the best times for conversations that we remember. We might not remember what we talked about, but just having the conversations is what we appreciate. And we actually listen despite the "Imma/Abba/Mom/Dad!" and eye-rollings."

On Wednesday or Friday-- I don't remember which-- I was actually just thinking that I'm really going to miss when my dad drives me to work. He gives me a ride because it's convenient for me because I can leave later, he has the time in the morning, I don't have to worry about parking which is nearly impossible by my work, and he still has the car for the day. What I haven't told him is that as nice as the ride is, I really value the time that we have during those short rides and the conversations we have then. It takes about 10 minutes for him to take me to school, which is the prefect amount of time for a conversation-- not too long. Sometimes not long enough, but in those cases it just means that we have a topic for the next day.

Those moments with my dad are some nice quality father-daughter time and not moments that I share with anyone else-- they're special. I did fieldwork near my dad's office, and sometimes he would leave earlier in the morning to get me there on time or he would pick me up on the way from work and give me a ride home. Usually he drives, but when I was learning to drive he would let me drive but we'd still talk. I have now developed the habit of telling him when I see anything in the road that could potentially be a hazard, usually at least half a block in advance, but hey-- that's the risk I run for learning to drive with my dad.

Relationship changes

2011-08-12T05:11:00.005+03:00

A conversation that took place earlier online today (with grammatical edits only):
Friend: Don't you worry that people you write about on your blog will read it? Or is that the point?
Me: ?

Friend: You write about wishing you were closer to this person or that
Me: No, I don't mind. I'm deliberately keeping it as anonymous as it can be (no name, no location other than not in Israel, no gender), but I don't censor that much about being an olah and my aliyah process, and a very real (and hard) part of that is friendships changing

A very real part of making aliyah, and what is the hardest part for me besides the financial uncertainty, is leaving family and friends. Since I made aliyah I have made new friends and gained new families, but that doesn't minimize the hardship and pain of the changes in the relationships with my family an friends that I left in America.

Here are the "Things I Can't Do Anymore With Family/Friends That I Miss"
Calling my sisters during the middle of the day
Taking the train and/or bus and seeing my sister and her family and playing games with my niece in person
Taking the train and/or bus and going to see my grandparents and seeing how happy it makes them to see me
Seeing my little sister almost every day
Just being with my little sister
Driving to work with my dad
Doing errands with my mom
Walking home phone calls with Sara
Girls nights with Chari
Shabbos in the Heights
Peanut noodle leftovers
Cupcakes from Julie
Going to my friends houses or just meeting up for a couple of hours

There are a lot more things, but these are the first ones that come to mind quickly.

It doesn't really get easier with time. You learn how to make this new kind of relationship work. Phones, email/internet, digital pictures and video, video chats, and other communication methods make it easier to stay in touch but I still feel the changes significantly, and that hurts. It's hard to have all those changes in all your relationships at once. Really hard.

I wonder what it's like for friends and family of olim? Any "friends and family" reading this who want to comment? What are some of the things you've found hard, and what do you do about them? Have you created new...rituals or..."things" to still maintain that bond?

Where is Home?, Part III

2011-08-09T06:29:00.004+03:00

I didn't think there was going to be a part III to this post-- there were only supposed to be two parts.

I got back from shul a little while ago and I've been reading and watching Tisha B'av-appropriate articles and videos. One of the pictures someone posted was a picture she took at the Kotel a few hours ago, and it's women and girls sitting or standing at the Kotel. One of the videos that someone posted was from the expulsion from Gush Katif. Those two pieces were when I started getting teary. Before then, the articles I was reading, the other videos I was watching-- ok, fine. But when I saw that, all I could think was, "I want to go home."

I just sent one of my friends a message saying, "i want to go home.

you dont have to say anything, there isnt really anything to say. i just needed to say that." (poor grammar and all...hey, it's instant messaging...) That person is very important in my life, but because I live in Israel and this person does not, I do not get to see or talk to that person as much as I would like. It still makes me sad that that relationship isn't what it was when I lived in NY and it will continue to have that distance, but what I said very much rings true-- I want to go home. Meaning Israel, meaning Jerusalem, meaning the Kotel. Right now there's no where I want to be more than sitting on the floor at the Kotel with hundreds of other people, mourning the Beit Hamikdash and the loss that we have.

I think I just got my answer, didn't I?

May we all be zoche [merit] to see Jerusalem and the Beit Hamikdash [Holy Temple] be rebuilt, speedily in our days, amen! And may the Mashiach [Messiah] come and bring redemption soon, in our days, amen!

And to all those who are fasting, have an easy and a meaningful fast.

Where is Home?, Part II

2011-08-08T05:17:00.001+03:00

I define home as “the place I lose my cell phone.” I think that’s because I lose my cell phone in places that I am comfortable in—I just put it down…and eventually find it again (which is why I almost always have my phone on the loudest ring, because that way I’ll hear it when I am trying to find it).

As an olah, I have had the opportunity to acquire a few new living spaces over the past year and a half. The first was where I went straight from the airport when I made aliyah. The next was my apartment (dorm) in ulpan, and the third is the apartment I currently live in. Home is where I can go and I don’t have to give any explanations of why I’m holed up in my room and just go out to get something from the kitchen or go to the bathroom. Home is where I can go over to my family members/roommates and say, “I need a hug.” Or “I just need to be alone.” Or don’t necessarily have to say anything, but they just understand.

Home is where I go when I need to be with family, either biological or adopted.

Home is also a country, a city.

I’m American, and more than that, I’m a New Yorker, a Bronxite. I am a Yankee fan by heritage/birth, and Brooklyn is the enemy. Staten Island is closer to New Jersey than to me, and it’s not New Jersey, it’s just “Jersey.” The city, meaning Manhattan, is always “downtown,” and when I go back to the Bronx I go “uptown.” And, no, I don’t know “Jenny from the block.” My neighborhood is not bad—while the entire Bronx may have the reputation of the South Bronx, it is not the entirety of the borough and I do not fear my life when I walk out of my house. The MTA manages to screw up half of the subway lines on a weekly basis, and does unbelievably stupid things with trains that run on the same lines, such as not running one of the trains "due to track work." Or running a shuttle 5 train from the first stop to a transfer stop, then a train from the transfer stop to another large stop where they're running the 5 train (please note, the train that is between the shuttle and the second large stop runs on the same tracks as the 5).

I’m Israeli, a Jerusalemite. I live in “the bitzah” with my roommates, and most of the people that I know in my area are Anglos. I speak fluent Hebrish and reply in whatever language I am addressed in. My TZ says I live over the green line, and I’m not scared to take 443 despite Egged not having normal bus service there. I know that the people around me want to kill me—what’s new? I am not scared to take the buses, nor to walk around my neighborhood at 2 am. At sunset I understand what “Jerusalem of gold” means and watch the orange-yellow light on the buildings as the sky gets dark. I hate the expensive prices on everything including food staples, the lack of really affordable housing, and the light rail that has managed to make congestion even worse. I love seeing signs in Hebrew (and the transliterated from English) and the sales (and jacking up of prices) of relevant products at holidays. And, of course, the holidays greetings on the packages and the buses—and they’re my holidays!

So where is home? Home is NYC. Home is Israel. Home is VV. Home is where you make it.

Where is Home?

2011-08-07T05:56:00.002+03:00

I have this conflict in me. Where is home?
I've collected a series of quotes that I've found about home. My thoughts will come after; feel free to share your own as well.

"Home is where the heart is."

"Home is where you hang your heart."

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to." -John Ed Pearce

"Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, a dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest." -Rober Montgomery

"What is home? A roof to keep out the rain? Four walls to keep out the wind? Floors to keep out the cold? Yes, but home is more than that. It is the laugh of a baby, the song of a mother, the strength of a father, warmth of loving hearts, lights from happy eyes, kindness, loyalty, comradeship. Home is first school and first church for young ones, where they learn what is right, what is good, and what is kind, where they go for comfort when they are hurt or sick; where joy is shared and sorrow eased; where fathers and mothers are respected and loved, where children are wanted; where the simplest food is good enough for kings because it is earned; where money is not as important as loving-kindness; where even the tea kettle sings from happiness. That is home. God bless it!"

"Home is oneness, home is my original nature. It is right here, simply in what is. There is nowhere else I have to go, and nothing else I have to become." -Tony Parsons

"Where thou art, that is home." -Emily Dickinson

"Home-- that blessed word, which opens to the human heart the most perfect glimpse of Heaven, and helps to carry it thither, as on an angel's wings."" -Lydia M. Child

"Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration." -Charles Dickens

"Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule." -Frederick W. Robertson

"Home is where the trouble is."

"Home is wherever I'm with you."

"Home is where your heart breaks."

"Home is where the phone is."

The magic of thunderstorms

2011-07-28T04:22:00.003+03:00

Since I was little, summer was filled with humidity and thunderstorms providing relief from said humidity.

I love storms and always have-- the smell before and after, watching the dark gray stormclouds come in and slowly shift across the sky with a clear line between the storm and the non-storm sky, the change to shades of green or orange depending on the storm, the sound of the drops and the rush of water as the sky opens up, the sound of the thunder and the deep vibrations throughout my body, the actual cracks and bolts of lightening across the sky and the way some lightening actually lights up the entire sky. And, of course, going outside when it's only raining and no longer thundering and lightening-ing.

Last night there was a beautiful storm. I was walking back to my house when the thunder started, and then the lightening. As I was walking home I must have seen about 4 or 5 clear cracks of lightening, with one lighting up the entire sky. Ma rabu ma'asecha Hashem [How numerous are your works, G-d].

I am always in awe when it thunderstorms.

Downside to living in Israel: Not enough thunderstorms. Or snow.

Clarification Re: my previous post

2011-07-26T02:42:00.004+03:00

The challenge is to come up with possible solutions to "PB [peanut butter] goes with..."
The things to match the PB with are:
a. J [jelly]
b. chocolate
c. banana (honey and bacon optional)
d. fluff

The example that I gave previously, say it was choice e., was "celery and raisins." I am looking for what the combination of PB, celery, and raisins would be called. Answer: Ants on a log.

Another example:
Pretzels. Answer: Peanut-butter coated pretzels. Another answer: Dipping pretzels in peanut butter.

Not looking for super-deep answers here. Go!

PB goes with...

2011-07-22T05:22:00.006+03:00

a. J
b. chocolate
c. banana (honey and bacon optional)
d. fluff

A batch of cookies of your choice to the person who comes up with the most combinations that mean something in classic American culture the quickest (in lieu of the batch of cookies, you may choose a cake or other baked food such as bread. Oh, and we have to be in the same country so I can get you the cookies). I will give an example:
"PB goes with..." if the choice was "celery and raisins," a correct answer would be, "ants on a log." There may be more than one answer-- goal: the most and culturally correct answers.

I've been baking again. I've missed it. I am a very spoiled child when it comes to kitchen and cooking/baking/decorating equipment. My mother bakes a lot, and so has lots of stuff-- pretty much everything you could need to bake and decorate-- different trays, molds, utensils, scoops, etc. It's wonderful. I've gotten used to baking with less than my mother's full kitchen, as well as doing almost everything by hand (definitely all the mixing), so when she offered me her mixer, I declined. I've gotten used to mixing things by hand. I just hate the dishes.
I have very quickly gotten used to large quantities-- a 1 lb. (approx. 450 grams) block of margarine. A 1-gallon (approx. 3.78 liters) jug of oil. 5-lb. (approx. 2.2 kilos) bags of flour. A 5 lb. (again, approx. 2.2 kilos) bottle of honey. And it's not like these are in restaurant supply places; many of these things can be found in the regular supermarket (actually, I think everything except the honey). I will miss these things. Oh, well.

In addition to the cookies, I also made challah today and the dough came out AMAZING. I let it rise in the spare bedroom because it was warm in there and it rose beautifully! It was one of the best doughs I think I've ever worked with; it could also be the extra kneading-- I kneaded it a bit more than usual. The flour also felt...lighter somehow. Maybe finer. Either way, the challahs came out beautiful.

Also, Fairway has za'atar. Except their za'atar doesn't actually include any hyssop (the literal translation of za'atar is hyssop), and includes oregano. First time I've seen za'atar like this. I used it anyway.

My country is on fire, and not just because it's ridiculously hot out

2011-07-21T06:19:00.004+03:00

Or, How Lauren Admitted She's Become Kinda Racist...

Over the past week there have been fires "breaking out" all over. Quite a few in the Jerusalem area, however there was one today in the center of the country. Question marks if they are arson, partly due to the fact that there were multiple fires that started at approximately the same time. Oh, and earlier also, one in the Golan (but that was apparently set by careless hikers (?), so we'll put that in a separate category). I read about the various fires and I asked a friend in the 911 system there (ok, it's not 911, but I mean the emergency services-- police, fire, ems) if the fires were set by Arabs.

Seriously, when did I become such a racist? Ok, fine, it's when I started admitting out loud that, especially in my area, there are many Arabs who want to kill me. Not all of them, but many. On the other hand, I work with many, many Arabs who are really nice. I mean, I never asked them if they want to kill me, but...I don't think they do...
It's not so okay to be racist in America. But people are, and that's life.

I have this conflict, because on one hand-- I shouldn't be racist and should not jump to "Arabs?" Because there are many fine Arabs-- I work with many. But...I guess...it's kind of become a little...reflexive, if you will. A little more alert, a little more aware, of who is around me. Picking up on the subtle accent on certain letters. But I still will get up for an elderly Arab on the bus, because he/she is an elderly person and that's right. I treat Arab kids the same as the Jewish ones. I mentioned this to another friend and he said that I'm Israeli-- nothing you can do about it. But that still leaves this conflict unresolved.

Signing off with "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist" from Avenue Q.

Aha, the NYCDOE

2011-07-20T05:06:00.006+03:00

Note: This post is kind of disjointed.

Back working in the DOE as a contractor. Someone asked me if I preferred being a DOE therapist or a contract therapist, and I said "DOE." Definitely prefer being DOE-- much easier and much more flexible. So what if I can't take RSA kids at a clinic? Or work at Macy's? I have so many more options that I don't need to.

Being a contractor is a pain, because you're second. Caseloads go to DOE therapists first and you get whoever is left. You only get paid if you see the kid-- if the kid isn't there, you don't see them = you don't get paid for that session, despite you being there. The awesome courses that the DOE gives-- you don't get. Also, you don't have paperwork time, which also sucks. There are upsides, too-- I can leave once I've seen all my kids for the day; if I have 10 sessions, I can leave when all of those kids have been seen, regardless of the hour. But I prefer being DOE, but the DOE doesn't hire summer employees. So I am doing contract. In the end I didn't get the kids I wanted (because a DOE therapist picked them up-- but hey-- they're getting seen, which is more than they were for the past couple of years!), but I'm at the school I was at two summers ago, and splitting sites, which is fine-- 2 days one school, 3 days another. Maybe I'll have some of my kids from two years ago.

I like the lists-- who is mandated for what therapy and how much; much more organized than "Ok, here is your class, go decide who needs OT and how much who is getting. Oh, and you only have a few hours for all these kids, and if you don't treat them they don't get OT." At least this way the kids who don't get seen in school have the option to go elsewhere and it's covered. There also aren't whole class sessions, which is a nice change.

Grenade Cake, II

2011-07-18T06:31:00.007+03:00

For A Labyrinth, A Soldier's Mother, freevees/aka FishInTheJello and anyone else who can appreciate a cake that looks like it could involve an explosive device:

That would be the grenade cake. And in case you're wondering-- no, the words and flowers don't taste good. They were not nearly as flavorful or as tasty as one might hope, since they have bright colors. They were taste-tested before placing them on the cake, and the conclusion was that the cake's flavor would compensate for the lack of flavor on the words and flowers part. On the upside, they weren't bad. Just not good-tasting...kind of-- eh. Next time use frosting or real sugar letters.

Chinese Fortune Cookie Fortune

2011-07-17T15:33:00.003+03:00

"You don't need strength to let go of something. What you really need is understanding." --Guy Finley, via a fortune cookie

Agree-- but disagree. You need understanding to be able to realize that you need to let go, but you also need the strength to act on it. You can understand all you want, but until you have the strength to let go you're just going to understand. And until you understand that you have to let go-- that what you're holding on to isn't helping you or is somehow hurting you-- you can be as strong as you want, and you're still going to be fighting the letting go, because you don't know why you have to let go.

Discuss.

Related Health Professions (aka OT, PT, Speech, Dieticians) law changes (again)

2011-07-15T00:01:00.005+03:00

Or, Timing Is Everything

I have been amazingly blessed in terms of timing and my aliyah. Here is a timeline, starting from HS graduation (it really starts from there, because that's when I went on Birthright and ended up in MDA...just...read)

June 2003: HS graduation, leave on Birthright the next day. Decide on the return flight to America that the plane can leave, but I was staying. Plane did not leave my seat on the tarmac. Oh, well.
September 2003: Start getting involved in Birthright alumni stuff in NY, including the Book Club (since defunct). At some point between here and Fall 2005, meet Michah Aron (Cohler), and he sends me a copy of a film he made, "Someday Soldiers," about a man named Yochai Porat who was killed during his work as a medic in the IDF (remember this; it comes into play later).
Summer 2004: Work on Christ in the City (director: Yitz Brilliant) and meet Ben, who left to do JIF (Jewish Impact Films) in LA (did not know that he was leaving to do JIF, just that he left after the first round of filming
December 2005: Participate in JIF (Jewish Impact Films), a 10-day film program in Israel. Before we left, one of the staff members said something to the effect of, "So you're planning on moving here?" to me. I told him no; maybe I could come for a couple of years, but I couldn't leave my family.
Fall 2007: Decide that after I finish OT school I want to go to Israel for a couple of months, because I hadn't been there more than 10 days at a shot. I decide to go to a seminary for a few weeks and then do something else boil it down to Sar-El Volunteer program and the Yochai Porat* Magen David Adom Overseas volunteer program. Talk to people, decide on MDA.
December 2007: Interview for MDA, get accepted. Learn how the Israeli system works: if you don't ask for it enough/make enough noise, nothing happens. The more you push, the faster things move.
February 2008-March 2008: Start the 10-day training course and volunteer with MDA. Make lots of friends and start to acclimate to the Israeli culture .And think about making aliyah. Don't want to leave, but decide to come back for the 88-hour/Natan courses and madrichim.
May-June 2008: Come back. Do the courses, volunteer, teach. Decide I'm making aliyah.
September 2008: Work in the DOE, plan to make aliyah in July 2009. Lots and lots of research, start making contacts in the OT world in Israel.
January 2009: Pilot trip; meet lots of OTs and talk to NBN.
Spring 2009: Realize that I will not have saved enough to make aliyah in July, and push it off until December.
Summer 2009: Start dealing with license stuff; find out that I have to have a teudat zehut in order to get a license...
December 30, 2009: Aliyah with NBN.
January 2010: Start dealing with OT stuff in Israel.
August 2010: Think I have all my paperwork in, and then find out that, no, they need a letter re: my fieldwork hours. But nobody would tell me this unless I asked...Israel...
October 2010: Get my temporary OT license without having to take the exam-- yes!
July 2010: Find out that as of the latest law change, all OT/PT/Speech have to take a licensing exam.

Now, let's explain how this, timing-wise:
If I hadn't gone on Birthright in June 2003, I would not have gotten involved with the BRI Alumni Organization (the pre-Birthright Next group), and would not have met Michah and would not have heard about MDA Overseas.
If I had not heard about MDA Overseas, or if I had just found it without being able to talk to past participants, I would not have volunteered there.
If I had not volunteered there, I would not have had the group of people that I had to rely on when I made aliyah (and still have).
OT-wise: If I had gone to seminary or done something where I was one year behind in terms of finishing OT school, I would have had to take the exam. In Hebrew.
If I had made aliyah straight after finishing OT school in NY, I wouldn't have had my NYS license and would not have been eligible to get "grandfathered" in for my Israeli license.
If I hadn't made aliyah when I did, I would not have been able to get an Israeli license and would not have been able to not take the exam.

It's so amazing to me that I see so much of how I thought things were bad and they really turned out to be right.
For example: I wasn't able to graduate until June 2008 because there was a mix-up with my credits and I never got credit for courses I was exempted from. If that hadn't happened, I would have graduated on time, taken my exam earlier, and would have started working after Pesach, which would have meant that I couldn't be in Israel for the 88-hour and madrichim, and I would not have built up that network and made the connections that I did to enable me to make aliyah.
If I hadn't pushed my aliyah off to December 2009, I would not have had my roommates from ulpan (who are amazing), and I would not be living in the apartment that I am in, in the location that it is.
If I hadn't been in that course/cycle of ulpan, I would not have met the person who gave me the name and number of somebody at Misrad Habriut to sort all my paperwork out.
If I hadn't made aliyah when I did, I would have had to take the exam. And I would have taken it early, which means it would have been in Hebrew.

Thank you, G-d, for everything!

*In case you haven't made the connection yet, the MDA Overseas program is named for Yochai. He was the person who started the whole thing, and after he was killed the program was named in his honor and memory.

Customer Service, American-style

2011-07-13T16:53:00.004+03:00

Customer service in America is usually decent, if not good, and if not, you can speak to a manager and just keep going higher up and get your problem resolved. In Israel, customer service is not known for its outstanding quality.

However it does seem to be getting better, I think? Maybe it depends on how loudly you yell. I'm not sure, because I might just be getting louder. But so far I'm usually able to get what I want, or a satisfactory option.

::pat on the back::

ושבו בנים...

2011-07-12T18:30:00.004+03:00

Welcome home to the 245 new olim from the US and Canada who landed this morning on the first NBN #nbnlive flight of Summer 2011! According to the NBN video, there were 850 guests waiting to welcome the olim (can we just discuss-- I don't do math, but that's about 3.5 times the number of guests as to the number of olim!)

I get chills every time I watch a ceremony.

Mazal tov, bruchim haba'im, and WELCOME HOME!!!

Video here: http://www.nbn.org.il/live/

"What is hardest to accept about the passage of time is that the people who once mattered the most to us are wrapped up in parentheses." — John Irving

2011-07-07T21:49:00.007+03:00

*this is a very personal post...heads up y'all*

A couple of years ago I built a nightstand, painted it a medium sky blue, and I wrote quotes, including the above one, all over it with some picture fitting the quote.

I just finished a book this morning, and in it the protagonist has a line about something being a couple of years and two lifetimes ago.

This is my second time coming back to NY after making aliyah, and coming back here now feels like my life here was another lifetime.

Strange as this sounds, it was never so clear to me as when I was with someone who I once loved-- and still do-- and realized that since I made aliyah I have changed so much and that even if I stayed here, I could never be with this person. That realization hurt so much. How can it be that someone I loved so much and who loves me back...that we've grown, or I've grown, so much away from who I was that it couldn't work? I loved him for three years (?-- give or take--) and then made aliyah and changed. And still loved-- love-- him. It hurts. A lot.

After high school I didn't go to seminary-- I went to college and grad school. My friend Shana, who did and then made aliyah, came back to NY and we were talking. We got onto how we'd changed and she said something that really made me think. She told me that I'd really just grown into more of the person I was in high school. I sort of got it-- college (really just post-high school and living out of my parents' house) gave me a chance to explore what I liked and things that interested me and figure out what I wanted, beyond the walls of school and my home. If I think about the person I was then, I can't say that I've really just grown into more of the person I was then.

I've changed so much over the past 18 months, and I don't know if I went back in time, if I would really believe that the person I am today evolved from the person I was then. I...I don't feel Israeli, but at the same time I know that Israel is so much a part of me and that I could never not live there. I'm so conflicted about how I want my life to be: I want to raise my children in Israel, but at the same time I'm horrified by the education there. I want my children to be Israeli and at the same time be American-- and proud of both of their nationalities and absorb and understand both cultures. I want my children to serve their countries, and I'm ok with it being either. I hope to G-d that there won't be a need for my children to defend Israel, but if there is, I want them to do so willingly and proudly. I want to be able to be able to express my feelings to my husband in Hebrew and in English and not have to translate from either language. I want my children to grow up singing the folk songs of America and the classic songs of Israel.
Is that too much to want?

Happy 4th! (part II), and unrelated notes

2011-07-05T23:54:00.008+03:00

As an American-Israeli (and let's not discuss American-Israeli vs. Israeli-American; I was American first, but I wouldn't--couldn't-- live anywhere else but Israel), I celebrate two independence days.
I don't really find it a conflict at all, being both Israeli and American and celebrating the independence of both of my countries.

The days feel very different, though. Israeli Independence Day (henceforth abbreviated as IID) comes right after Yom Hazikaron, Israeli Memorial Day, and that really gives IID an...an added maybe (?) meaning, just because of the juxtaposition. American Memorial Day is completely separate from American Independence Day (AID; as a side note, there is also Veteran's Day and Flag Day in America...interesting). Independence Day in America is celebrated with fireworks, BBQs, and sales. Oh, and flag t-shirts. Those are very popular.

Unrelated Notes:
1. Onwards to being back in NY. The joys of Wal-Mart and lots of green mountains:
Wal-Mart. Please note the hugeness.

The mountains. Please note the greenness.

2. An interesting alarm clock that I would totally bring back, if not for the fact that, well...it looks like a bomb: here

3. I leave you with the song that makes me feel the most patriotic: "Proud to be an American," lyrics by Lee Greenwood:

If tomorrow all the things were gone,
I’d worked for all my life.
And I had to start again,
with just my children and my wife.

I’d thank my lucky stars,
to be livin here today.
‘ Cause the flag still stands for freedom,
and they can’t take that away.

And I’m proud to be an American,
where at least I know I’m free.
And I wont forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,
next to you and defend her still today.
‘ Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,
God bless the USA.

From the lakes of Minnesota,
to the hills of Tennessee.
Across the plains of Texas,
From sea to shining sea.

From Detroit down to Houston,
and New York to L.A.
Well there's pride in every American heart,
and its time we stand and say.

That I’m proud to be an American,
where at least I know I’m free.
And I wont forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,
next to you and defend her still today.
‘ Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,
God bless the USA.

And I’m proud to be and American,
where at least I know I’m free.
And I wont forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,
next to you and defend her still today.
‘ Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,
God bless the USA.

Happy 4th!

2011-07-03T15:17:00.004+03:00

Landed in the US of A in time for the 4th of July. Yay for long weekends!

I'm not jetlagged, except my body has to learn that Sunday in NY = weekend, not work. I got up at a perfectly normal hour-- if I had work. But I don't.

The plan is upstate, hiking, BBQ'ing. But it's raining, so that might change to upstate, Wal-Mart, swimming, BBQ'ing (it's supposed to slow down/stop later). Does this make me Israeli, if I'm going to hike and have a BBQ on Independence Day? Note, I'm not really going shopping...Wal-Mart doesn't count as major shopping/sales.

The flight was good, not too much turbulence. Got back, saw family, Andrea, Yoni, and Squish came over for Shabbos.

Really have to go-- more later!

Another difference between the schools in NY and the schools in Israel

2011-06-23T22:45:00.000+03:00

Wednesday we (the entire country of Israel) had a missile drill. There was a national exercise in case missiles are shot all over the country; it was also a test to see where people heard the sirens and where they didn't or it was difficult to hear it.
There were two sirens-- one at 11 am and one at 7 pm. During the 11 am siren, I was at work in one of my schools. We took all the kids down to the miklat (shelter) and they were down there for 10 minutes. During the 7 pm siren I was in my apartment and briefly contemplated going down to the miklat to see how it looked all cleaned out. I nixed it, because I'm sure it just looks empty. In addition to the purpose of the drill was to see where sirens could/could not be heard, it was also to make sure people know where a close-by shelter is.

There was also a shelter drill in one of the schools I worked in in NY. It was pretty simple-- they rang an alarm/bell, and everyone went to stand in the hallway, facing the wall. Theory being it was away from windows. It was also that you could do a specific number of shelter drills in lieu of fire drills.

Speaking of, they don't seem to have fire drills in the schools here, nor are smoke alarms and carbon monoxide detectors standard in apartments/houses in this country. But we have national missile drills. WTF?

Working

2011-06-18T23:58:00.004+03:00

OT in the schools here is very different than OT in the schools in NYC. For starters, there is more than one kind of public school here. And there are separate schools for special ed as well. As in, their own building.

But the most annoying technical thing (besides figuring out which kids should be getting individual OT), I find, is the paperwork. Every kid gets the Israeli equivalent of an IEP at the beginning of the school year and a full report at the end of the year. That's right, it's like doing a triennial review for every kid every year. Now, which kids get the reports depend on the school. For example, in one school I have two classes that I see only a few kids in each class 1:1; I am responsible for reports on all the kids in the class anyway. In another school I have one class session that each child gets a certificate about what they worked on in the class session and how they did, and the rest of the time see kids in small groups or 1:1 and write a report for each kid. It comes out to about 40 reports total, plus the certificates. In Hebrew. More on paperwork when I'm not about to pass out and can't focus.

INSANE. And I used to think that IEPs sucked. I really long for the days when I was a DOE therapist and had just...so much of a more functional schedule.

Interesting birthday cake

2011-06-12T19:47:00.006+03:00

I enjoy baking. We know this. And cooking, too, but baking is really my thing. I'm into pretty cakes and cookies and decorating and all that stuff.

My latest cookie accomplishments were Israeli flags and various "boy cookies"-- aka, teddy bears and baby carriages in shades of blue. I think those are the latest. Latest cake accomplishments were a multi-color celebratory cake and a grenade cake.

Now for those of you not in the know, there are different kinds of genades, some more fun (shall we say...) than others. Of course I didn't know that people have preferences for favorite kinds of grenades (although people have favorite foods, why not favorite grenades?) so I made a traditional hand grenade. I will advise people that flashbangs (stun grenades) are much simpler to make. Here's how:

1. Make the housing (the case): Take a toilet paper tube and cover the ends so the tube is closed at both ends

2. Color it black (this can be done in a variety of ways, but I think the easiest would be to color it with a marker and then saran-wrap (plastic wrap) it so the color doesn't get on the cake. I suppose you can also dye it with food coloring, but then it would be significantly wet).

3. Make the top (the detonation assembly): This I made out of batzek sucar, which is kind of somewhere in between fondant and marzipan but not exactly either, and painted with food coloring.
4. Don't forget the pin! I used a keychain ring attached with the batzek sucar.

Next time I will plan better. Although the cake tasted good, the decoration definitely needed more planning.

Shavuot-- aka, the holiday that vegetarians and those that do not like to be meat appreciate

2011-06-09T17:18:00.004+03:00

Shavuot is the holiday that comes at the end of the counting of the Omer. People stay up all night learning and pray as early as possible. And in Jerusalem many people walk to the Kotel, the Western Wall, to pray there. That custom comes from a few sources, one being that once the Old City and the Western Wall were were liberated, Shavuot was the first time we were able to go there, and there is also a concept of making a pilgrimage to the Temple 3 times a year (Pesach/Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot). Between these two, it's become a tradition on Shavuot to go to the Kotel on Shavuot morning after staying up (or not) learning. My favorite part of Shavuot morning is after davening. At the Kotel plaza, there are people making kiddush and giving out small packages of food (muffins/cake, a drink, etc.). And you leave the Kotel, by all the construction (ok, maybe less so now) and the beginning of Yafo, there is also-- you guessed it-- someone (a few someones) making kiddush and giving out cake and stuff. This country is amazing in the way that people take care of each other and how on major event days, someones are looking out for the rest of the population somehow.

Another tradition is eating dairy, for many reasons (see the link for Shavuot above). So I made lots of dairy. I ended making dinner last minute, so I made lots of dairy. Aside from challah (which is not dairy and I love to make), I made a dairyfest: cinnamon cheesecake with nutmeg in the crust, lasagna, a dairy noodle kugel, and pizza. And then I went to lunch by a friend of a friend and-- surprise! Dairy! I like dairy. Dairy makes me happy. Except when I'm meat (hence the reason I don't like eating meat).

Usually (like I've been here so long...well, usually what I do when I'm in Israel-put it that way; I've been here for 3 Shavuots) I stay up all night, go to the Kotel, and then go back to wherever I'm staying and SLEEP. This year I had a friend over and she didn't feel great, so we stayed home. I stayed up most of the night and learned, davened, then went to sleep until the afternoon. In the afternoon we went to a NBN unofficially singles event ("This event is for singles and young couples in their 20’s & 30’s", which means it's a singles event). On one hand, it's another singles event. On the other hand, I see a whole bunch of people at once and then I'm "yotze" for a whole year. That's convenient.

What I used to do for Shavuot was determined by where I was. If I was upstate, after we finished dinner I would go down the hill (with a pint of Ben & Jerry's and enough other candy and cheese balls to last through the night, sit at the back of the nightclub (the nightclub is really an auditorium-like space with a stage that serves as the shul for the main minyan on Shabbos in the summer) and learn with Chari and maybe a few others, take plenty of breaks in the middle, pass out for a little while on the benches, get up, then daven and go back up the hill and sleep. If I was by a friend's, we would usually go to her shul, learn, eat, daven, then go back to her house and sleep until the afternoon. And then in both scenarios, have a regular second dag of Yom Tov.

it's been 2 weeks...

2011-05-27T17:52:00.002+03:00

ok, 17 days technically since I updated. Sorry.

So-- Yom Ha'atzmaut. Oh, and Lag Ba'omer. And fairly soon, Yom Yerushalayim and Shavuot.

So-- Yom Ha'atzmaut. Started the night off by doing an avtacha at a street party that ended up getting closed early by the police because there were too many people there (why they didn't just not let anybody else in when it got full is asking too much from Israelis). So I went home at 2 am instead of at 4 am, which was fine with me. The avtacha was supposed to start at 11, so I figured that I would have to be there at 10. No, the volunteer office called me and said I had to be at the station at 9. We left the station at 9:45. Next year I'm going to a BBQ instead. During the day I went home (oh, I made flag cookies. Yummy flag cookies) and Rita and Dov had a party in the afternoon, then I went back into Jerusalem for a BBQ-- kind of a winding down because everyone already BBQ'd during the rest of the day.

Lag Ba'omer was, as usual, a pyromaniac's dream. I went to the NBN bonfire, and next year I will be going to the MDA Chul one. Josh made one, which would have been awesome to go to, but I didn't know where it was and he didn't answer his phone. And I forgot that I had Gavy's number, who I also could have called. But on the upside, at least I didn't try to find it because as Gavy put it-- "it was on top of a hill where you would think you would be raped and dumped." Right. Next time I'll call Josh in advance, or someone else. I definitely have bonfire pictures somewhere.

What else, what else? Getting ready to wrap up the school year. I'm going to be in only two schools next year (thank goodness). I'm going on some Fridays to sort of get acquainted with the new school for next year so that I don't come in with a total surprise and actually start working well. Like I said, it will be interesting because it's a population that I haven't really worked with, and it's also a high school, so there's a very big element of getting ready for life in the community, which should be kind of cool.

And Vered made aliyah! Yay! Mazal tov and welcome! Joint pancake birthday party to happen in the near future.

I think that's about it. I really wish I had more to say.

Oh! I can talk about dating here. Over the past couple of weeks I've gone out on a few dates. Nothing came out of them, but at least I went. And some of them were with Israelis...yay for me! That being said, still looking...and I'm open to suggestions (within reason; don't think about setting me up with a 35 year old, or someone who isn't religious, or doesn't speak a word of English/Hebrew-- yes, they've all been done...)

Mmmmm, bbq...

2011-05-10T23:37:00.001+03:00

I smell like the classic Israeli smell on Yom Ha'atzmaut-- a BBQ. More on this later, but Yom Ha'atzmaut celebrating the 63rd birthday of Israel has come and gone, with all the fanfare and fun it deserved.

Bedtime, as I go back to work tomorrow.

Yom Hazikaron

2011-05-08T17:59:00.004+03:00

Last year I didn't post about my experiences; I later posted a poem, which I've linked to here.

American Memorial Day didn't mean much to me beyond sales and a day for BBQs. Now that I think about it, I'm sure it meant much more to my Grandpa and Zaidy (and maybe also my grandmothers) who knew people who fought and died in the wars of America. I'm sure that if I went to Arlington, or any other military cemetery, I would feel it more; I would recognize the day for what it was intended to be. But I never did. I didn't feel it in America; I don't know if I would if I went back.

When I was growing up, Israeli Memorial Day was always observed in school, but I never really made the connection of Memorial Day being right before Independence Day, really impressing the significance. People DIED-- DIED-- so that there could be an Israel. Somehow...I never really felt the "people DIED so that there could be an America." Here...everyone who was killed was a friend or relative of a friend or a friend of a friend. I would be surprised if there was more than 2 degrees of separation between someone who was killed and anyone walking around Israel today...it's so close for everyone.

Last year I and another ulpan student were invited to carry a wreath for Natan Sharansky as he placed a wreath at the memorial ceremony for victims of terror. It was surreal, as I was walking to the ceremony and during, listening, and after, walking around Har Herzl...just...it felt like a memorial day, a day to remember. The night before I went to a ceremony with Elinor and Aryeh and on the way there was the tzfira, the 1-minute siren that marks the start of Memorial Day in Israel. Aryeh stopped the car, we got out, and stood. Remembering, reflecting, thinking, and paying respect to those who died for Israel.

There's also this...interesting (?) thing-- I don't know the right word for it. It's...kind of like a large-scale kumsitz. It's called "shira b'tzibur"-- "singing in a congregation" where there are songs put up on a screen, like in karaoke, and everyone sings together. They are old songs, traditional Israeli, war songs, hopeful songs, sad songs...and they are songs that are part of the culture here. And this shira b'tzibur is very...customary (?) on Yom Hazikaron and random other times. Everyone is sitting together, usually on mats on the floor or chairs in front of the screen and everyone sings together. Sometimes there are instruments, sometimes not. But it's amazing; it's just everyone sitting together and singing, being a group.

You feel a heaviness in the atmosphere here-- the country is in mourning, and you feel it. It's like when somebody you know dies and the world should stop and you're walking around in a haze because everything feels so thick. Except in this case, the whole country does stop, because everybody is thinking about somebody.

"If You See Something, Say Something"- NYC MTA campaign slogan

2011-04-28T00:00:00.003+03:00

The Egged version of that statement is something like, "נא לסרוק מושבך ולדווח על כל חצף חשוד." ["Please check around your seat and report any suspicious object."]

There's a story that my mom has told me about when she came back from Israel and went to do shopping and wasn't able to carry all the stuff in at once so she left it by the elevator or door or something-- basically, she wasn't around it. She was worried that someone might see it and call the police. And then she realized that she was in America, where nobody cares if there is a bag lying around with no one around.

In Israel you are taught (trained) from a very young age to be aware of your surroundings. If there is a bag just sitting there-- be aware of it. Ask the people around you if it's theirs; if it's not-- call the police and get away-- fast. Many times it's just a bag that someone accidentally left. Or a box that someone left and didn't put in the garbage. But no one is taking a chance-- it's really, "See something, say something." Today on my bus there was a bag (note: Israeli city buses have a space by one of the doors that's technically for wheelchairs, but people use it more for carriages and big packages/bags) in the wheelchair section, strapped in. It must have been there for a while even though people were getting on and off. All of a sudden, a stop before Machane Yehuda the driver gets on the loudspeaker and starts yelling something-- unintelligible, of course, and about 5 seconds in people start getting up and getting off the bus. Immediately you know that there's something wrong and it's not a problem with the electrical system on the bus. It turned out to be the bag of someone who doesn't really speak Hebrew and she didn't understand what the driver was saying until people started getting off the bus and someone told her.

You know-- I didn't even feel any kind of adrenaline flow. It was just...that's life in Israel. A chefetz chashud (pronounced with a hard "ch," like challah or Chanukah)-- suspicious object-- is just part of life here. Thank G-d it was someone's bag from shopping. Welcome to Israel.

(on a side note, if the object is not claimed, as happens as well, the police clear the area, block off the street, and bring in a robot to safely detonate the chefetz chashud.)

Contrasts

2011-04-23T23:48:00.003+03:00

I was just looking at my pictures from Pesach two years ago, the last Pesach that I was in NY for and upstate-- the way I grew up having Pesach.

Pesach really seems to be THE holiday that exemplifies the whole family coming together. Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur not as much, and even Chanukah, because of it's proximity to other winter holidays. But Pesach-- everyone who has some connection to Judaism and tradition remembers the seder. For me, Pesach was my family together, upstate-- see here; I don't need to post it again.

It's something that I want my kids to have memories of, the way I have-- my immediate family, plus my grandparents, plus aunts, uncles, and cousins (well, only one set in my case). It was also something special-- because my mom was an only child and my grandparents all got along, my mom's parents always were at the seder even though it was upstate and in my Bubby and Zaidy's house. I always had seder with both sets of grandparents. I wonder what seder was like this year in my house (my parent's house...). The first seder they had a friend from the neighborhood over and the second night a different family friend came over.

I wonder what my seder will be like once I have my own family. I should probably write something else about that, because that seems to be a repeating theme: The future for me in Israel, with my own family. Not that I have someone to start it with, but it's still something that I clearly think about a lot.

Pesach 5771

2011-04-23T23:31:00.000+03:00

My second Pesach in Israel. The first one I'm without anyone that I was normally at a seder with (last year my aunt, uncle, and cousin were in Israel and I had the seder with them); I was with my adopted family from Chashmonaim-- small, just 5 of us. And-- again, felt weird (but less so than last year) to have only one day of chag.

Then on chol hamoed I did the very Israeli thing of tiyuling (or for those that speak proper English-- going on a tiyul). On the first day I did a tiyul in Jerus

alem, and the second day I did Yehudia (the upper one; for those of you that know the trails-- the red to the green). I had wanted to do Yehudia for

quite a while, and I"m really glad that I got to finally.

Jerusalem tiyul (Even Sapir):

This is one of the many hikes that start from Hadassah Ein Kerem, or right nearby. There isn't too much to say about this tiyul. It was, as one of the others put it, a nature walk. It was pretty much walking along a dusty road with pretty flowers on the sides. There were points that you saw the hills and it WAS beautiful, but it wasn't so much my kind of tiyul. Give me

climbing and rocks and water, etc. Not a dirt road...That being said, here is a pretty flower shot and a scenery shot:

Yehudia: The weather was perfect-- not too hot, not too cold; a little bit of sun, but not bright and too hot. Also, the path itself was very shady. Let's discuss the tiyul. The big thing about Yehudia is the ladder and the water. You have to climb down a ladder and then swim. It wasn't bad, just don't look down :) You kind of have to, to know where other people are so you don't go down too fast and step on them, but don't look down to see how much further you have. And don't look up to see how far you came down. The water was so cold-- it literally shocked my body into stopping breathing for a moment. It was like being a water tester in camp (which meant that the head lifeguard threw you in and asked you how cold the water was and then told everyone else to get in and start swimming laps to warm up), except then I knew the water was going to be cold. This was colder. This was totally my kind of tiyul-- rocks, climbing, water... Much better than just walking on a road-- give me things to climb on, water, etc...mmmmm... After the tiyul we had a BBQ with a disposable grill which ended up not working so well so we made a small fire and used the screen/rack thing from the disposable grill on top of that. See here:

"Disposable grill?" you ask? Yes. That is one of the many wonderful things that they have here. Tiyulim and camping and BBQs are so much a part of the culture here; school trips-- hikes. End of school trip-- hike. Holidays-- hikes. And camping.

Now getting the food for the tiyul was a bit more interesting. In Israel, the majority of people eats kitniyot (legumes, rice, etc., including corn, beans, canola, chickpeas...for a more in-depth explanation, click here) and there is significant debate over whether or not people living in Israel should or should not eat kitnoyot regardless of their cultural background (Ashkenazi or Sefardi) (see here for more on that), however my friends and I do not. So everything I bought had to be not only kosher for Pesach, but kitnoyot-free as well. A challenge in the average Israeli supermarket. The kosher for Pesach part was easy-- the shelves that are not kosher for Pesach were draped off and labeled: (the word on the sign is "chametz," or "leavened"-- aka, not kosher for Pesach. The hard part was finding non-kitnoyot stuff. Even things like yogurt-- "kosher l'pesach l'ochelei kitnoyot [kosher for Passover only for those who eat kitnoyot]." And some of the signs were confused, like this one:

(the sign says, "l'lo chashash kitnoyot"-- basically, "not kitnoyot." However, it was under rice which is very definitely kitnoyot. Confused sign...) But I was able to find meat (the hamburgers and hot dogs were the harder ones because they are processed; raw meat isn't kitniyot) and even the sweet chili sauce (also hard to find). And marshmallows. I would say, based on what I saw, that easily 2/3 of the products are only for those who eat kitnoyot. Not helpful.

I leave you with some pictures from the Golan (most of them are on someone else's camera-- we only took 1 camera on the hike, because of the water and I have to get them from her):

the road:

the mountains:

more mountains:

and again:

the Kineret:

And one more reason to love and appreciate being in a Jewish country:

The bus has the traditional Passover greeting of, "A happy and kosher Pesach."

I hate the army

2011-04-11T23:17:00.002+03:00

I don't really. I shouldn't. It keeps me safe and allows me to go places with less risk of getting hurt.

But I just hate how it so royally f's up so many people's lives, particularly those who did not go in when they were 18 and just out of high school. The IDF, particularly the non-career soldiers, is geared towards 18 and 19 year olds who have just finished high school and have not yet gotten higher education or in any way really started their lives.

For the others, olim, people who decided at a later age to volunteer, and those who already have life experience beyond high school-- the army interrupts their lives. Many people who choose to serve at a later age who are non-combat positions and actually get into the unit/area they want-- they're very happy. But that doesn't mean the army doesn't screw up things for them, too. A friend from Ulpan wanted to go in for 1 year-- the army made her go in for 2, despite her age (24) and the original statement that she would only have to serve 1 year. She's a few months in. Another friend who is also 24 volunteered-- she is in the unit she wants and I'm not sure how many months she's doing. Another friend who made aliyah in his mid 20's and went to law school and then volunteered-- he just went in at 29. The army is not designed for people who have lives already.

Combat soldiers? Forget it...your life as you knew it or thought it could be is over. If you're married-- maybe you get to go home for Shabbat. If you're not married, you don't have a life. You don't. Say you have every other Shabbat out-- let's just say, because that's pretty standard for many. So...you get out, in theory, Thursday (which could be anywhere from the morning to the night) and depending on the time you get out, by the time you get home, you have just enough time to start a load of laundry so you can do the next one, etc. so that your clothes will all be dry before you pack them up for the next two weeks. You have until Sunday morning-- say...anywhere between 9 and 11 am (usually; depends where you have to be) to be back at your base. Besides the laundry, you also have to take care of the things you couldn't do over the past two weeks because...well...you were in the army and couldn't leave. Hope your bank is open on Friday...or that you have everything you need so you can go directly from base to the bank... If you do not keep Shabbat, you have Friday and Saturday (Shabbat) to hang out with friends and family, relax, watch TV/movies. And finish your laundry. But you're usually sleeping a lot of the time. If you do keep Shabbat, you have until Shabbat comes in (just before sunset on Friday) and after Shabbat (about 24 hours plus 72 minutes from when Shabbat started) to do all those things and then on Shabbat you have time to hang out with friends, read, sleep, etc. Now try to have a social life in there. Where? I don't know. I guess it makes sense not to date (seriously date, not just screw around- pun not intended) until after the army. But when you're married, it's really hard-- you are away from your spouse for at least a week and you're expected to be able to have a normal relationship?! Major props to those who are doing this.
And it's so frustrating. It's very difficult to have a normal life when you're away from your family for 2 weeks (at least) at a shot and then to expect to be able to have normal relationships with people other than your army buddies? You get used to it...but it's still not normal and sometimes not possible. Another friend has been engaged for almost 2 years because she wasn't able to marry when she was in the army. It really-- forces you to put your life on hold or not be in a place (for many people; not all) to have a relationship that requires a lot of maintenance (talking about combat positions; non-combat is very different and does allow a lot more of having a "normal" life). And it's hard for those of us who aren't in the army and want to have a relationship-- any kind of relationship-- with those in the army. Call to say hi-- "Sorry, I can't talk, I'm busy." And they're busy every time you call because their schedule keeps getting changed and this one wants to switch and they go out for this operation and that job...and when they can in theory talk, it's either 2 am or you're at work. Or about to go to sleep. Or they're going to sleep because they're so damn tired.

It sucks.

I'm not in the army, and a large part of the reason I didn't volunteer was this-- I have a life already, I've begun it. And serving in the IDF would have meant putting my life on hold for a short amount of time, learning to do something new because they don't have OT in the army, and then resuming it 6 months later, or even a year later; they wouldn't take me for longer. In any event, it's putting my life on hold. At the age of 25, when it's not matim at all for me to start. I can do more and better for the country outside the army.

But it still affects me and my life and what kinds of relationships I have with my friends who are in the army.

Hello, juxtaposition

2011-04-05T23:54:00.006+03:00

Death meet Life.

I've posted about this more than once; I am very blessed and fortunate to have more than one family. In NY I have my family, plus my Queens family and of course my friends who are family. In Israel I have two adopted families-- one who I have known since I was born (my dad and the mom grew up together, about 5 houses away from each other, and when my sisters and I would go to my dad's parents on Shabbos afternoons we would also go to her mom's house), and one that I met only after I moved here.

In family #1, the grandmother was sick for a couple of months, and recently her medical situation deteriorated and she passed away yesterday. In family #2, one of the children got married yesterday.

When I found out the grandmother, Babi, passed away I sent a text message to one of the daughters in family #2 what happened and that I didn't know what was going on. I went back to house, found out the game plan, and I decided-- I'm going to the wedding. I don't know how long I'll be able to stay, because I have to catch a bus back, but I'm going.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post. It just struck me, the contrast between death and life. Going from a place where you're figuring out funeral arrangements to a wedding. Trying to straddle and balance two conflicting...everything and be there for all your families and yourself.

it's been SO LONG

2011-03-23T23:02:00.003+02:00

It's been 3 years since the last major pigua in Jerusalem, Merkaz HaRav (I'll find the post to link to another time when I'm more coherent). Over the past 2 weeks there have been two significant piguim in Israel (not even touching on the dozens of shells and rockets that have been fired at my country)-- Itamar, which I haven't gotten around to posting about, and the one today, by Binyanei Hauma.

I wasn't in Jerusalem when it happened. Normally I would have probably been around Machane Yehuda, doing shopping some, or in town. It was frustrating, not being there...not being able to help. That's the hard part.

And it's been so long since there have been bomb attacks...this one wasn't on a bus, it was at a bus stop. But it's been so long since there was an attack like this, and it's so hard to digest and comprehend. I keep saying that-- "so." As if it's extra, needs the emphasis. It's been 2.5 years since the tractor attacks. It felt like we were almost in the clear...not really, and not ever because you never feel like you're totally in the clear and can relax, that there will never be another attack. But you relax a little. Still a heightened awareness for suspicious objects-- bags lying around with no owners; a knapsack left on the street or at the bus stop (nevermind that it might turn out to have nothing but notebooks, workbooks, and a pencil case in it)-- but you're aware. The security people who are at the entrances to stores and public buildings.

And then BOOM! (literally and metaphorically) And you are no longer relaxed.

I took the 74 bus (the explosion happened next to a 74 bus) about 2 hours after the pigua. I actually commented to my cousin who I was with-- "What time is it? The pigua happened what-- 2 hours ago?" And there were people out and on the buses, etc. You can't stop living.

You can't stop living. עם ישראל חי; חזק, חזק ונתחזק-- The nation of Israel lives; Be strong, be strong, and we will get stronger.

I leave you with two videos. The first is a song from Voices for Israel, and it called "Chazak- We Stand as One" and it can be found here. The second is a wish for peace; it's called "Od Yavo Shalom Aleinu" and this version is from Blue Fringe and can be found here.

May there be peace in Israel and the world. Amen.

2011-03-20T14:41:00.003+02:00

It's been about 2 weeks since I've updated. I apologize...I've been living in Report Land. And I just found out on Thursday that I have a report due next week and got an email yesterday that I have another one due also then.

I will be slightly absent from my blog until, oh, say Pesach probably.

Maybe sorting it out?

2011-03-07T17:25:00.003+02:00

I've discovered how to write my reports-- in English. And then translate them. I said something about doing that to a ganenet who is also an olah (but has been here for 25 years) and she said that she did the same thing at the beginning.

I was talking to one of the speech therapists about the reports, and she said, "I'll let you in on a little secret...they're driving me crazy too." Also, starting in this gan is like getting thrown into the deep end. And she's so right. Another thing I wish I would have known, that it was a very, very intense, hard place. The speech therapist is doing a lot of editing also, but it's slightly comforting that a therapist for 19 years is also going crazy with the reports.

Lessons Learned, part I

2011-02-26T23:28:00.006+02:00

This week-- no, these past few weeks, almost month, have been very, very hard for me.

Between difficulties with paperwork at my schools (literally making me sick from the stress-- keeping me up at night/waking me up in the middle of the night; nauseous; feeling sick), people I care about very much being sick and/or in the hospital, questions about how I want my life and envision it coming up and people I love(d)...it's been tough lately.

I called one of my friends tonight to find out how her husband's tekes went (her husband just finished about finished basic training in the army and had a tekes this past week). We talked about how Shabbat was, and I said that I was having a kind of difficult time with the reports I had to write and how I have a whole life waiting for me in America-- including no chumus at all-- and here...it's really hard, I have a container half-full (half-empty) of chumus (for those of you who are coming in now, chumus = no job and no relationship; the goal is to empty the chumus container-- aka, have a job and a relationship) and she said that maybe I have a 2/3 empty container; I asked her how, because I have a job but not relationship. She said that I'm in Israel.

It kind of make sense-- definitely makes sense-- if Israel is such a big thing that I was willing to leave my family, my job, and a lot of important and easier things in America, maybe it does deserve a place in the chumus container. Granted, chumus as a metaphor came about because one roommate said that she didn't have a job and didn't have a relationship, but had a chumus...Israel was no where in that. So it can either be that Israel is a given, it's granted, and therefore does not need to be in the chumus container, or that it's something that should be in the container because it's important enough to give up other things for. I'm not sure...thoughts anyone?

I've brought this up before and it gets me every time but it still...doesn't make it any easier. In the Gemara there is a part about one spouse wanting to make aliyah [move to Israel] and the other not. And it's valid grounds for divorce (not poskining anything here, but just making a statement). Which to me means that Israel is pretty damn important. Important enough to give up a marriage, the other half of your soul.
It also confuses me, which is something I haven't brought up but have been thinking about for the past year and a half (wow, has it only been a year and a half...? Feels like so much longer and shorter at the same time). How can two parts of one soul be so conflicted about such a major issue? It seems like that's saying, "Something isn't right." Maybe it means that it's not right, because how can one whole have such a conflict? It's not possible, or at least from my limited perspective as a human and seeing things from that perspective, that something so in conflict can be unified and right. It can't.

I said it then and I'm saying it again, maybe to try to convince myself. It's not fair to start a marriage like that and it's not fair to have a marriage like that.

Two stories about two women who are close to me:
I: One wanted to make aliyah a number of years ago, but wanted to make aliyah already married. She got married when she was in her mid-30's to someone who was not planning on making aliyah the same way she was-- then. She got married, had a child, and made her life with her family in her home country. Her child graduated high school and went to learn in Israel for a year; the child did and also made aliyah. She is planning on making aliyah with her husband, joining their child here, within 7-10 years.
II: The other woman was seriously dating someone, and she, too, wanted to make aliyah. The person she was dating wanted to finish his degree and then maybe or when he retired or something make aliyah. Something happened in Israel (for a shock...things never happen here...) and she decided that she wanted to be here. And so she moved here, alone, and met her husband, and raised a family here.

Both woman are successful. Both women are happy. Both have at least one child in another country. But how to reconcile the need to live in Israel with the feeling that someone is right for you, even though they're not going to live where you want...I haven't worked that out yet.

More on this another time; I have to get to sleep for my half-empty chumus container (aka, work) tomorrow.

Learning more lessons

2011-02-25T10:30:00.004+02:00

Despite working in all misrad hachinuch schools, documentation is different in each one.

OT = OverTime? Off-Topic? Over-Taxed? OTher?

2011-02-15T16:18:00.006+02:00

I'm working in misrad hachinuch (the equivalent of the Department of Education in Israel). I'm working in 3 schools/ganim.

At first I was in 2 schools/ganim, wasn't so happy in one of them, so I switched to a third school/gan for 2 days/week. I was really happy in the second school/gan. Now it's reversed. I'm not so happy...ok, very not-happy...in the second place (sorry for the confusion; I'm trying to be not so specific about where I work because, after all, this is the internet).

It's reports time in one of the places. So I tried to write a report. It was a disaster. The principal actually said to me that it would be better to write it from scratch...not, "The information was good but it's not organized and doesn't really give a picture of the child as a child and who he/she is," which is what it sounded like she intended (after discussions and emails) but, "It would be better to re-write it." She told me that she spent an hour working on it and still hadn't finished. We had a meeting where she intended on helping me rewrite the report, but it turned into a meeting about me in the school...there were hurt feelings on both sides.

When my madricha (a senior therapist who gives me supervision, but not a supervisor) found out that I had to write all these reports, she offered to look over the reports and help me with them. But then the principal said that she would look them over so I didn't send them to my madricha. It took her a couple of weeks to get the first one back to me (the one she said would be better to rewrite from the beginning)...meanwhile, the teacher is asking me for the reports and I keep telling her that I'm waiting for a response from the principal.

I'm very frustrated because I feel like things need to get to a breaking point, or a point where they can't be ignored, for many things to be done there-- at least for me to get help. It's partly my nature-- I will wait and wait for things for me. But for other people-- I'm very on top of things. I was asking the principal every day that I was at the school what was going on. I also think that it's a matter of priority-- looking over my reports is not high on her priority list (until someone else makes it a priority). It's not personal, but...I'm not happy. This principal is not necessarily the easiest to work with, but I did what she said-- I looked at other reports, tried to come up with something that worked.

The principal asked my madricha to come in and that the three of us would sit down and talk and that my madricha would help me with the reports. I sent my madricha the report I did that the principal rewrote. The madricha sent it back to me-- she had some questions and edits, but...there is such a difference in the amount of comments and questions that she has vs. the response from the principal. I feel like crying. Again. Except this time it's because I feel justified. Not that my reports are amazing-- far from it. But because it doesn't seem like I sent a piece of crap report. I feel like she expects 100% perfection, in her style. I don't have that. I have maybe 40% in my style. Not that our styles are anywhere alike, which is another issue.

What the principal changed was, first of all, a lot of the language. She completely elevated the level to something that someone who has been working for years and is completely comfortable with the language wrote. Which is her experience. My experience is 6 months in the OT world here, and a grand total of 2 years in the OT world. I wonder what her first reports as a new therapist and as a new therapist in Israel looked like. Just food for thought for her...not that she's going to see this, but anyway.

On the upside (maybe kind of?), I found out a couple weeks ago that I am replacing a therapist who went on sabbatical. So I might not even be at this school next year, which would solve the problem of her telling me she doesn't want me to come back next year or me telling her I don't want to come back next year. I guess it might be good-- I wanted a dati school from the beginning, so I guess around Pesach I'll see if there are any dati schools, preferably for the deaf/hard-of-hearing, or mental retardation. There is one that I know of, but they didn't have any openings for OTs. Oh, well, maybe next year.

2011-02-11T09:42:00.003+02:00

Thank you to everyone who asked-- I'm ok. My heart is hurting a bit (ok, a lot), and it's going to take time to get over that.

It's not a matter of ideal or principle-- "The Torah commands us to to live in Israel, therefore I'm supposed to live in Israel." Or, "Israel is the Jewish homeland; I am a Jew, therefore I should live there." Not that those aren't true, but for me it's a matter of feeling wrong and out of place anywhere else and a sense of rightness and feeling...more whole when I'm in Israel.
I used to say, "If something had happened before I went to Israel 3 years ago then I would have had a different outlook and a different mindset and wouldn't have been so open to everything here." But...if it's a feeling or rightness and wholeness, would it have really been any different? Don't know. But I guess that's life.

It hurts...it really hurts. I don't mean to sound like a martyr or like I've given up so much more than anyone else, but anyone who moves here, who makes aliyah, makes sacrifices. Out of the sacrifices I've made, this was one of the hardest. I will always be connected to my family, and I miss giving them an actual hug and kiss, or being able to just go over, or helping my Bubby and Zaidy, or being able to talk to Lis as we fall asleep. But this one is different...this one...it feels like a part of me is being ripped off, or was ripped off, and I won't be whole until there's another piece there to fill or replace it.

I'm going to be ok-- I made up my mind. I made up my mind a year and a half ago when this came up first...I will always regret it if I don't live in Israel; I don't know if I will always regret not being with this person. I've since learned that I CAN love someone else, but there will always be an unanswered question. And I will be ok with that; I have to, I have no other choice if I want to make it here and make the life that I want here.

The Choices We Make

2011-02-05T22:20:00.005+02:00

The past 13 months has been a time of big choices for me:

-The choice to actually make aliyah-- to pack up my life, get on the plane, and move to Israel.
-The choice to date someone who was a friend (not only my friend, but someone in my one chevra at the time).
-The choice to go to ulpan.
-The choice to stay in ulpan, despite being offered a part-time job that would have helped me ease into OT here a little more instead of going in full-force.
-The choice to stay in my practice area or switch.
-To work in private schools or misrad hachinuch.
-Where to live.
-Who to live with.

I made a choice in July 2009 that I'm still not at ease with. I wrote a little about it in August through December 2009 here ("An aliyah engagement," "Not feeling very happy," "What would it take?," and, "Into the single digits"), and recently in the past couple of posts. It's not fair.

Nobody ever said life was fair, but this feels extra unfair, if that makes sense. It's like G-d playing a game with my life. G-d said, "Go live in Israel." It just hit me now. G-d said, "Go live in Israel." No one said anything about it being easy. It says in the Gemara (Masechet Brachot, maybe?"), "אין ארץ ישראל ניקנת אלא על ידי יסורים." It's just...why does it have to be so darn hard?

Question: How do you choose between someone who is so right and somewhere you can't not be?
Answer: You hurt.

We all have choices to make in life. Some we're sure about, others...not so much. There are ones we can explain and others that just have no good answer, and some hurt more than others. There are some that make us feel so good and we know are right, we just know. G-d gives us the choices and the options, and it's up to us to do the best we can with them.

Some choices are ones we put ourselves in. Many of the choices that we have are the result of other choices that we've made and...we have to work with those and make the best of it. There are some non-negotiables and those can make things a lot harder and a lot easier at the same time.

To quote Pippin again, "...And if I'm never tied to anything I'll never be free."
"I'm not a river or a giant bird
That soars to the sea
And if I'm never tied to anything
I'll never be free

I wanted magic shows and miracles
Mirages to touch
I wanted such a little thing from life
I wanted so much
I never came close, my love
We never came near
It never was there
I think it was here

They showed me crimson, gold and lavender
A shining parade
But there's no color I can have on earth
That won't finally fade
When I wanted worlds to paint
And costumes to wear
I think it was here
'Cause it never was there

I wanted magic shows and miracles
Mirages to touch
I wanted such a little thing from life
I wanted so much"

I wanted him, he wants me, and-- there could be an us-- IF. But I made my choice and he made his, and they are not compatible with each other. So...there can't be an us. I made the choice to accept it and move on. I dated other people, loved one. And then...he will always be the one I could have married. But I put him into a corner of my heart and closed that part because I had to. A choice that wasn't so much of a choice. And I will thrive here. I will live, set down my roots and make my life and make my way here. That is my choice, and my choice to be happy. Here. In Israel. Even without him.

"Rivers belong where they can ramble; eagles belong where they can fly. I've got to be where my spirit can run free/got to find my corner of the sky." My spirit is free here, in Israel, at home. And it's tied to Israel, so it can be free and soar and all those metaphorical thing that sound cheesy.

I wish I had a more eloquent way of putting this, but this is me and how I think and I write how I think and right now everything is just spilling out because I don't know how to stop it.

A breaking heart

2011-02-01T15:35:00.002+02:00

There are just some things that you can't put into words. This is one of them.

Standing

2011-01-31T23:58:00.004+02:00

AS SHE STANDS
By Katy Pfaffl

A little girl stands all alone
On the stage of life
With her mother and father
Proudly beside her.
So to save them from the world
She grabs a hand
And puts an arm around the other
The mother
And it’s the father
She holds gently in her hand.

Then suddenly
The time goes faster
And she sees just how
The years have past her
And she wonders
How she managed to be
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future
As she’s

Standing all alone
On a crowded subway platform
Late at night
Watching and living
Reaching and giving
To a lonely man that passes by
She feels his soul
And has to try
Sharing and caring
Smiling just to help him ease the pain.

Then suddenly
The time goes faster
And she sees just how
The years have past her
And she wonders
How she managed to be
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future
As she stands.

Stepping through the tragedies
The vacancies of aging
Letting go of “cannot be’s “
Of “won’ts” and “shouldn’ts”
“Couldn’ts”, “don’ts “ and “whys”…
Standing on the doorstep
Of a mansion full of dreams
And walking right inside
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future as she’s

Stepping through the violence
The broken glass,
The words that last forever
Letting go of “never tells “
And “never be’s “
And “never even try’s”.
Standing on the doorstep
Of a mansion full of dreams
And walking right inside
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future as she’s
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future as she’s

Standing high on a mountaintop
With a boy
And truth that just won’t stop
Pouring and seeping
Soaring and leaping
High as the clouds up above
And all she’s wishing for is love
Freely and deeply
That he’d see
The gem inside her eyes.

Then suddenly
The time goes faster
And she sees just how
The years have past her
And she wonders
How she managed to be
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future as she’s
Holding the whole world in her hands
Shaping the future
As she stands

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I just told someone not to wait for me, because I'm not leaving Israel. So I've chosen Israel over someone I could have seen myself actaully marrying and building a life with.

More later. Right now I feel like a truck ran over me. Or, rather, I manged to run myself over with a truck that I was driving.

Sicky time. Again.

2011-01-31T22:23:00.001+02:00

You know all those bugs you get when you're little and then don't get again? Yeah, now I'm getting all the Israeli ones. You know, the ones I haven't been exposed to until now.

Yesterday I was sick. True to form, I pushed myself and went to work in the morning-- after all, I was able to walk (nevermind that I felt sick and dizzy). I ended up leaving work early, going to the doctor, and getting a sick note for yesterday and today.

I feel better-- now just a bit queasy and headachey. But I only have work until 1 tomorrow and no meeting, so that's good. I think I'll go to work then come home and rest.

How many families can one person have?

2011-01-22T23:33:00.003+02:00

I am very fortunate or blessed, or however you would like to put it.

I have my family that I was born into, and then I have other family that is made up of friends:
In America...
I have Sara, and my Queens Mommy and sister.
I have Dina, who I've known forever.
I have Becca and Carly.
I have Ali, who is my more-than-sister.
I have Chari (and Eli) and Stephie and their parents.
I have Estelle and Joe.
I have Barbara and Glen and Sharon, Becky, Ari, Miriam, Naomi, Shoshi, Dassi, Bracha, and Leah.

In Israel...
Rita and Dov and their family who I have known since I was born but were like aunt and uncle and cousins who I saw once a year but still--were family. They are like my parents here and their kids are like my siblings and their grandkids like my nieces and nephews, I am another aunt to them. Rita and Dov's house is home to me here. My stuff is there, I have my room, I get a bracha from Dov on Friday night...it's home.
Mark and Yaffa, who-- ok. Back story. My mom and Mark grew up together. But their mothers, my grandma and Mark's kids' grandma, went to elementary school together. So we all go way back. I only met Mark about 2 and change years ago. When I came to Israel for my post-OT school trip, my mom asked me to look up Mark-- Moshe (my mom calls him Mark, but he goes by Moshe here. I call him by both names). I kept putting it off, and then when I got back to NY I googled him and found him. My mom called him, and got back in touch-- and found out that two of his children lived near us and he was coming in for Sukkot. Mark and the kids came for a meal, and got to see my Grandpa (my Grandpa passed away about 6 months later, so it was very special that he got to see Mark and that Mark got to see him-- they hadn't seen each other since Mark made aliyah, in the 70's). One of Mark's children who is close to my age and I have since become friends also. Anyway, so they are family. I've given up trying to explain my connection at family things. And as one of his sons says, "You're family."
My roommates.
The people I made aliyah and went to ulpan with.
MDA Chul people, who were my family before I had so much here.

I was by a friend last year a little before Pesach (wow, feels like that was just recently) and we were talking about where we were going to be for Pesach and our plans. He said that he was going to one of his adopted families. To me that made perfect sense-- after all, I had an adopted family, too, and was going to them for Pesach.

About a month and a half ago I went to a family who I got in contact with via the mom's blog. I finally went. And I enjoyed very much-- felt really comfortable and just...you know when things just fit and are comfortable and not stressful and fun? Yeah, that. Someone came over, and she was introducing everyone and got to me. And she was kind of like, "This is Lauren. She's--" and she stopped. Took a pause and then said, "She's our guest. She already has an adopted family."

I'm sort of wondering how many families a person can have. Is there even a limit?

Sorry...

2011-01-12T17:58:00.003+02:00

Haven't updated in a while. Oops.

Let's see...what's been going on since my aliyahniversary? Not much. But I'm going to update anyway.

To celebrate my aliyaniversary, I had the gingerbread party. This is what the house looked like before it was eaten: --scratch that, Blogger is not a fan of uploading my pictures now-- So...the house was decorated with cranberries, Fruit by the Foot, gumdrops, tea biscuits ("biskveetim"), pull 'n' peel, jelly beans, marshmallows, chocolate, toffees...lots of candy. All held in place by royal icing which we used as glue. A few people came, decorated people, ate the house...yum. Next year- maybe going back to basics. Hopefully more people will come (as a side note, "hopefully" means "in a hopeful manner." That would mean that my sentence actually reads, "In a hopeful manner, more people will come." Which is not what I mean at all; I mean, "I hope that more people will come." And I know that I am using the word incorrectly. Moving on) and it will be more fun.

In terms of work- my third school is getting better, now that I'm getting more into it. I might stay there another year, because it's...it takes time to get into things. And it seems that now, that I'm doing more and actually doing OT instead of trying to set up a schedule and getting frustrated, I'm actually treating. The downside is that this population is VERY tough. I thought it was a school for learning disabilities, and it is (at least technically) classified as such, but the population is also very significantly behavioral/emotional problems. Yay! I don't even get mainstream Israeli culture, let alone culture with problems! My second school is...tough. I had a session that the principal sat in on. I thought she was coming to see a different session-- and she came late and didn't come to that one. She saw a session that was VERY tough for me-- one of the classes that I work in is mostly communication and developmental delays-- and I have two very involved children in that class, and she happened to have seen one of the tough ones for me. We talked about the observation after, and she said some things from an OT perspective as well that I actually thought about as I was treating, but there was also some pressure that I felt because...well, it was an observation and the principal is not only my principal but she is an OT as well so she looks at things from an OT perspective also. But she also came to another session-- at the discussion she asked me if I had other groups today, and what time? So she came to another group- a movement/organization and social skills group, which she came to and it was REALLY good. She felt that the game they played at the end was a little low for them, but she also did acknowledge and understand why I chose the game, despite it being a little low for them (just-right challenge anybody?). She also saw me in a very good session- a population that I'm more comfortable with, better with. I did a little EI and worked with some kids who had communication problems, but this is very different in terms of setting and HOW involved the kids are. These kids are more involved than ones I've worked with before, and I'm having difficulty communicating with them. I know that I need guidance and instruction in this area. But now she also sees that I'm not incompetent and I know what I'm doing-- she saw the technical-- she really saw it in the first session, and that was how she described the session: technical--, but this time she also saw the "art" part of my practice in addition to the "science." Anyway, so that school is more of a challenge than it was originally. My first school is fine. The other OT that I see and I get along, and we're actually going to be going ahead with a splinting project and make the kids splints. And about half the kids there need them. Yay for splinting practice! Oh! And so far I've gotten two pay stubs. Not that they were necessarily correct or anything, but it's a start. And I signed up for the keren hishtalmut (every 6-8 years I get a sabbatical to go study) before December 31, so this year WILL count, which is good.

Social Life- Need to work on that more. I am going to audition for a play tomorrow (I think), so we'll see what happens with that. English, obviously.
Yesterday was Shirah's wedding. Shirah and I sat next to each other on the plane here and were in ulpan together. Last night was her wedding which was kind of a mini Ulpan reunion. She was a beautiful kallah, and the wedding was-- someone described it as feeling like a bat mitzvah, and I understand that. There was a...fun-ness and so much joy. Shirah's parents and other family was there by Skype, since they weren't able to come in. It was a lot of friends from Shirah's side, and, at least for me, this was totally, totally about making Shirah (and Moshe) happy-- being משמח חתן וכלה. And this was what this wedding felt like.
I also realized I need to wander around my neighborhood and make friends here. I'm staying in my apartment this Shabbos, and I'm eating by Yehuda and Elkie and Aryeh and Elinor for dinner and lunch.
Oh, my roommate got engaged. Mazal tov!

What else? That's about it.

I do apologize for the lack of entries lately. It seems that the busier I am, the less time I have to blog and the more my handwritten journal gets written in, simply because I take it with me and write waiting for the bus or in meetings when I need to have my hands busy or just am waiting for something somewhere. I will try to blog at least once a week.

Another blog I would like to draw your attention to: my friend and fellow olah, Ophra, has a beautiful blog where she writes about...well...pretty much everything. And her poetry is so expressive ::hearts:: She writes here: A Labyrinth

Happy aliyahniversary to me!

2010-12-30T21:53:00.003+02:00

1 year, to me and my flightmates. Kol hakavod to us!

Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.

2010-12-24T00:09:00.003+02:00

There's a song from "RENT"-- actually, just a couple of the lines-- "Halloween":
"How did we get here? How the hell-pan left, close on the steeple of the church.
How did I get here, how the hell?
Christmas! Christmas eve, last year."

Last year I built a gingerbread castle with Sara and Heather and Yael, and then Vera, Moses, Talia, Matt, Laura, Esther, Yosef and Dylan came over and we built, decorated, and ate the gingerbread at my going-away party, because I wasn't going to be around for the New Year's party.

This year I built and ate a gingerbread house with other people-- CB, Rebecca, Ephraim, Orli, and Orly. The gingerbread also got eaten in school by Sara and Akiva. It was...it was kind of sad. I felt kind of sad, because it was so small and I wanted to share it with other people-- friends I made here. But it also was my 1-year aliyahniversary (and everyone else on my flight), which was...also weird.

I repeat..."How did I get here..."

On the upside, a lot of people didn't really get it until they saw pictures and said they wished they would have known what this was and come also. Next year!

Being in Hebrew

2010-12-11T21:19:00.003+02:00

I touched on this briefly here, but it's gotten easier for me to be in Hebrew. To converse, to think, to formulate sentences. It's still easier in English (despite my, "לא משנה" answer when people ask which language I prefer. In most of those cases I've found it's easier to speak in Hebrew, because the person I'm talking to might understand English but does not speak it that well) overall, but I can switch between the languages easily, and I find my Hebrew sprinkled with English and my English sprinkled with Hebrew. This came up last week when I went to a family for Shabbos. They made aliyah about 17 years ago (give or take), her two youngest kids were born here (the older ones were about 5 and down when they moved), but all the kids are very Israeli. They all speak English with pretty good American accents, but they read much more comfortably in Hebrew. I was talking about how it is working in Hebrew and being surrounded by so much Hebrew, and the mom said that when she talks she has a hard time staying in one language-- if she's in a business meeting or on a business call in English, she has to work vary hard to not let a Hebrew word slip into her sentences, whereas she says her kids stay in one language when they speak. But at home her kids speak mostly Hebrew between themselves.

I've broken this down into a couple of categories: Working in Hebrew, doing official things (kupat cholim, banking, phone, etc.) in Hebrew, shopping in Hebrew, and dating in Hebrew.

Working in Hebrew:

Definitely harder in terms of the professional terminology, but it's gotten easier. I'm learning the words I need, and, like someone once told me-- most of it is conversational anyway. He was right. And especially working with kids, there are a lot of words that I'm picking up. When I talk with my-- not my supervisor, but the OT who gives my supervision, we speak in English. But when we are around the kids or with other therapists, we speak in Hebrew. When I talk with the other therapists and the teachers, we usually speak in Hebrew (with the exception of a couple of therapists and teachers). My reports are in Hebrew, but my session notes are in English. Meetings with the staff and parents are in Hebrew. I'm getting there; I need to be more patient with myself in that respect-- yes, I've been here a year; yes, this is my third year in a school system, BUT (but BUT here)-- I've only been in a professional environment in Hebrew for 3 months. And almost one of those was holidays, so it's barely that. And, yes, it's my third year as a school-based OT, but it took me about year to get used to the system in NYC, and then halfway through the second year I moved here. So...I need to be more patient with myself about this and give myself more of a chance to get acclimated to the system here and learn it.

MDA- Easily half in English and half in Hebrew. On the ambulances- depends on the staff, but equipment is usually in Hebrew. When I'm working with people who aren't so fluent in Hebrew, then we go to English. But when I teach I ALWAYS use the Hebrew words for equipment because that's what they need to know.

Doing official things (kupat cholim, banking, phone, etc.) in Hebrew:

These are most easily done, I find, in Hebrew. Kupat cholim- when dealing with the kupah itself I find that Hebrew is easier. When dealing with the doctors and nurses and techs- I usually speak in Hebrew. If the doctor speaks or understands English and I can't express myself well enough in Hebrew I speak in English (I prefer to go to English-speaking doctors for this reason, even though I'm usually fine in Hebrew). Banking- I found someone who speaks English. Much easier to do my banking in English, because also the systems are different and I found someone who is familiar with both the American and Israeli systems. Phone- I find that arguing in my accented Hebrew sometimes gets me further, but also-- my phone company doesn't seem to provide great service in English. So I use Hebrew.

Shopping in Hebrew:

It's all about the conversions. And learning the names of foods. Sizes- eh. But negotiation is a skill that must be done in Hebrew, preferably with a more Israeli accent than less, because many Israelis assume that if you speak English with an American accent you are a rich American. So...yeah. Hebrew accent it is for that.

Dating in Hebrew.

Hehe. Right. I find it easier to date someone who is bilingual, because sometimes I can express myself better in Hebrew-- the words fit better-- but I also need English. I couldn't date someone who only spoke Hebrew (aside from how he would communicate with my family, I need someone who speaks English). I went on a date with an Israeli and after the date he called me and said he didn't think it would work because of the different mentalities. I'm not quite sure what he meant, but I also know that I needed someone who spoke- not just read and wrote- English. I've been on a couple of dates in Hebrew, which were ok, but I prefer to date someone who also speaks English. Definitely more comfortable.

Maybe I'll revisit this in a few months and see if my comfort level in Hebrew has changed at all.

Chanukah in Israel

2010-12-11T20:47:00.003+02:00

My first Chanukah as an Israeli. I didn't bring latkes and applesauce to work...because I didn't have work because I work in misrad hachinuch and have off for Chanukah. But...people here know what levivot are. The applesauce with them is less common, apparently.

I had sufganiyot-- I think the ones here were better than the ones in NY. There were so MANY flavors to choose from; the most common ones seemed to be jelly (strawberry) and ribat chalav (dulce de leche), but there were also chocolate and pistachio and vanilla cream-filled. There were others topped with sprinkles, chocolate flakes, chopped nuts, icing drizzles-- so many different kinds! And there were also mini ones, with fewer calories and less bad stuff for you. But...there were a lot of kinds. Yes.

In terms of chanukiyot (menorahs, for the Americans)-- most people use oil, but there were still many candle ones for sale. I had a hard time finding the pretty candles that Mom always got, but then I found two boxes in a random store near Ben Yehuda. And then the last night I saw them in the tachana merkazit in Jerusalem (note to self for next year).

It kind of felt like the holiday season...except it felt too early for Christmas-- it is too early, but the holiday season in the fall/winter to me means Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's. I definitely miss the holiday season in NY (ok, more the vacation time), but I also had traditions with my friends for erev Christmas and New Year's. Erev Christmas was Gingerbread-- SaraShatz and I started building gingerbread creations on erev Christmas (because who cared how late we were up-- it was vacation the next day :)) and we would let it dry until New Year's Eve and eat it at the New Year's party/get-together thing. Because, again, who cared how late we were up-- it was vacation the next day.

I am continuing the tradition here, but slightly differently. I am making the gingerbread on the Thursday night before Christmas and having the eating party on the Thursday night before New Year's. Yeah...I miss Christmas and New Year's vacations. Yes, I got Chanukah, but I miss the one-day-vacations so much...Election Day, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving (ok, 2 days), etc. And then after winter break, there was President's Week-- I don't think I went 2 months without a break. Here I go straight until Purim, which is only 2 days anyway, and it's in the middle-end of March. So that's 14 straight weeks. Yipee...(don't I sound excited...). But anyway-- gingerbread making will be happening here, despite the lack of molasses; I will be using silan (date honey)- I found a company that is an ok substitute for molasses-- not great, but ok. It shall be interesting to see the spin on gingerbread here, because it's not so traditional at all here. Gingerbread doesn't exist so much here.

Reflections on making aliyah and looking into the future

2010-11-29T17:57:00.002+02:00

A year and a half ago I posted this post about the future and what it holds. Part of it was about my childrens' future if I moved to Israel. What would their future be like, being drafted into the army here. I also mentioned another blog, A Soldier's Mother, written by a woman who made aliyah with her family about 17ish (?) years ago.

Today I saw this in her post:
"It bothers me that to live in this land, my children must know the uniform and the gun. My daughters may not serve in the army, but their husband or brother or nephew will at some point in the future. My sons will serve, as will their sons. To serve, if life remains as it has been for more than 60 years, means war."

So well phrased, so much of what I feel even though I'm not yet married and don't have children. My children will grow up seeing soldiers in uniform and men and women carrying guns as part of their daily life. And my children will, as she put it, "know the uniform and the gun" when their draft notices come and they, too, join the ranks of the IDF. I will encourage my daughters to serve in the army as well as I will my sons. I don't want there to be a need for my children to serve, and I know that my parents wouldn't want me to be in danger, just like I wouldn't want my children to be in danger...but they would be proud of me if I was in the army and did serve my country. When I was considering joining the American army, my parents weren't happy because they didn't want me to be in danger...but they would have been proud all the same. But I made the choice to move from somewhere that my children would not be drafted, and would not be asked to serve in the army to a place where...once they turn 18, when they're not even out of their teens and still...well, children...they're going to be asked to put on a uniform and learn how to use a gun. And not for pretend, for real. To be ready to fight in a war, if need be, and even to guard and defend the country in some capacity, even not in a declared war or operation. Was it fair what I did? I don't remember where I heard this, but someone said she made aliyah so her children don't have to (if you said it and read this blog, please let me know so I can credit you). I did...but was it-- will it-- be fair to them?

Something I've thought about but never said out loud, and I wonder if this place, this blog, being that I don't know who reads it, makes it almost easier to say it here-- I don't want to marry someone who didn't serve in the army for idealist reasons, didn't want to serve. If someone moved here when he was too old to serve-- fine. If he was exempted for medical reasons-- fine. But not to serve because you don't want to or idealist reasons...that bothers me. It's your country, too. I went on a date with someone who I've known for a few years and his brothers are in the army or about to go in, and I always assumed that he also served. And then he told me that he didn't. I'm not discussing his reasons here because they're not mine to discuss, but the army gave him an exemption and he did not serve. And that bothered me...you want to live here, be here, raise a family here...and yet you're not willing to serve? I don't want my husband to go off every year for a few weeks, but...that's going to be life here, and I don't think I'd want it any other way really, because it's part of living here and you have to take the good with the not-so-fun. When he has to go for miluim, I will help him pack, get up that morning, kiss him goodbye, and wait and count down until he gets back. And that will be the life I've chosen. Unless he doesn't do miluim for some reason.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-26T00:43:00.002+02:00

This year it was a bit different.

It's now 12:44 am, technically Friday. This year my Thanksgiving was a day of work (regular) followed by coming back to my apt. and cooking. Normally Thanksgiving-- well, Thanksgiving used to involve getting up late (because I was off), followed by wandering around/cleanng in my PJs while Mom was cooking. The parade would be on the kitchen TV and maybe in the living room, but highly doubtful because no one was in there consistently enough to be paying attention. The house smells really good, because of all the cooking Mom is doing, and at about 4 pm people start coming over and eventually everyone is over and we start eating. Mom made rolls (probably white, garlic, and rye), and Grandma's soup. Oh, and maybe an appetizer and salad. That's followed by turkey (made in the roaster with garlic and paprika sprinkled on top and baby carrots, celery, and onion surrounding it), stuffing kugel, cranberry sauce (jelled and whole berry), and maybe cranberry kugel. A bunch of other side dishes, because...well, food = love. And then dessert, which is cookies and cake and tea.

This year I made my Grandma's vegetable soup. I had to split it into two pots, because it was too much for one; one came out good and the other needs to cook more, so it's in the fridge overnight and tomorrow I will attempt to cook it some more. But the one that was done came out well. I'm excited for the other one :) It was my first time making soup in a long time (I made soup once and burned it. In college. This was my first time making soup since then), and the first time I tried to make my Grandma's vegetable soup. It's...it's a tradition. It's a hard one to follow, because of the associations with Thanksgiving, and missing everyone, but it's still...it came out good.

The last Thanksgiving that my Grandma was alive for was a little different than the previous ones. Everyone but my mom was at my Grandma and Grandpa's apartment (my mom was in the hospital with the port infection-turned-sepsis). We had Thanksgiving dinner as usual-ish, including the soup, and that Shabbos my Grandma had a very severe stroke that caused her death a week later. I remember eating the last portion of soup from the batch she made. We froze it, and when I had it...I remember thinking, "This is the last soup Grandma made." It was always "Grandma's soup." Kind of like Grandma coffee (but that was a little coffee and a lot of milk; pretty much how I drink coffee today still), but not. My Grandpa wrote out the recipe for me after Grandma died, and my mom eventually typed it up and put it in the recipe book she made for me. It has vegetables and meat and soup mix...and the last ingredient is "1 brocha that it comes out good." I think that's what made it so good.

May we all recognize and be grateful for the brachot that we have in our lives, and always remember to add the "1 brocha that it comes out good." In everything that we do.

2 separate topics

2010-11-23T20:23:00.003+02:00

1. The special education public school system (in comparison to NYC, as I see it)

2. Bone marrow compatibility

Let's start with number 2., because that's less involved (from a writing perspective. And if you're only going to read a little bit of this, I'd rather you get that; if you're really interested, you will continue reading anyway). Number 2- Bone marrow compatibility. The idea for posting this was from Beneath the Wings, which is a blog by a mother who has a daughter with Down's Syndrome and the blog is very much centered around that. Her post is here:http://beneaththewings.blogspot.com/2010/11/important-message-to-parents-of-future.html

My addition is, you don't need to be a soldier (or going into the army at all, in any capacity) to be tested for bone marrow compatibility. I was tested through Gift of Life via a cheek swab (if you are a preliminary match, they will then do bloodwork. But initially-- all you need to do is open your mouth and get a cheek swab).

Number 1. The special education public school system, as I see it. First of all, the public school system here in Israel overall is MUCH more complicated. There are various types of schools, all considered public- different religions, different sectors within the religion, non-religious-- very complicated. Most of the schools are Jewish, but there are also non-Jewish schools (with different schedules). The way the special education system seems to work here is parallel to the general education system. That is, there are also Jewish, non-Jewish, religious, different sectors within the religious, and non-religious schools. There are also different type of preschools. And to make it even more complicated (or specialized, depending on how you look at it), each school is for a specific type of special education, be it severe/profoundly mentally retarded, mild/moderately mentally retarded, physically handicapped, mild/moderately retarded, deaf, blind, learning disabilities, behavioral problems-- you name it. I think that there is a good side to this, because the kids really get a specialized focus in the school, but there is also a downside because the children are not even integrated into a regular school building. There are some kids who are in self-contained classrooms within regular schools, and there are mainstreamed kids as well. BUT I have yet to hear of kids in general ed who get OT.

It's very frustrating to me as an occupational therapist that there are so many kids who don't get OT, or don't get individual, because there aren't enough therapists to go around or there isn't the budget or whatever. There's also this thing of a "class session." I'm sorry, but...do all the kids need it? How much are the kids really going to get out of 1 45-minute session per week, when there's an overall need, but each kid is at such a different level?

I'm not a fan of the system here, as a therapist. I liked NYC better-- wasn't ideal, and, no, there weren't enough therapists to go around either. But at least the kids had the option to get seen outside if they couldn't get seen in school. And there were OT-specific goals. A full eval was done on a kid who needed it, and his/her mandate was prescribed. It's much more-- "Ok, who needs OT the most here?" And the teachers have a big say, which I feel is correct, but I also think there should be an OT eval done on the child when he/she has been seen previously, and if there is a suspicion of delays/problems. And then a mandate should be created, if applicable, and the child gets seen in school or gets referred out of school.

I'm sure there will be more on this at a later point.

A missing piece

2010-11-17T17:08:00.002+02:00

The summer before I made aliyah I got involved with someone who I waited quite a while to date. And then we broke up because I was making aliyah and he wasn't. Ever. It just wasn't happening.

He fell of the face of the earth for a while, and he's now back. And I realize just how much I miss him. Yes, I just broke up with someone, which naturally makes me think. But...this is something that no matter how much we both want it to happen won't, because of the physical distance. And that's the part that hurts so much. It's not even like there was a chance, because we live 6,000 miles away from each other and neither of us can live where the other can.

So, if you're reading this-- and you know who you are-- I miss you. It's not your fault, but your videos make me miss you more.

Journaling

2010-11-13T22:42:00.003+02:00

This post also kind of ties in to the previous two posts about being Israeli and writing. Writing-- well, it's kind of obvious-- writing, journaling...I write in my journal- what happened, what's going through my mind. And poems are a reflection of those two. Being Israeli I'll get to at the end.

In addition to this blog I have a handwritten journal.

I have been writing since at least...second grade, I think? I didn't really keep a consistent journal until college-- I had journals and diaries, but I would write for a few weeks (maybe a month) and then forget about it, finding it a few years later when I was cleaning out some drawer. I actually have a diary-- with a lock on it, locked naturally-- from probably 5th or 6th grade. I don't know where the key is, hence it's still locked and I don't know when it is from (yes, I can pick or smash the lock. But that feels wrong. So it will stay locked until I decide to pick it, or have someone else do it for me).

Once I started college I saw a show called Subway Train and what struck me was that the show had been mostly written in journals, on the way to and from places. It never occurred to me until that point to write while I was traveling. But I had so much time traveling! I took three subways (or a bus and two subways) to school every morning. And I traveled other places by bus and train and there was the waiting in doctor's offices and in the Verizon store and-- all those places that I never thought to just...write. Even sitting in a Starbucks or in the park-- I had always associated writing in a diary with sitting in my room, cross-legged on my bed or propped up against pillows...and all of a sudden I changed the label-- Journal-- and it became a verb to me. An action. I was journaling. And so I simply opened the small notebook that I carried around to jot down to-do lists, or shopping lists, or other things I needed to remember, to the back and started writing. Just writing-- I'm on the train at 42 st. Where is the train?/Waiting for the bus crosstown...there is someone staring at me/Wow. I had a day. And on and on, just writing. And the writing turned into questions and sometimes answers and a lot of the time musing and more questions. Overthinking, re-thinking, dissecting what someone said and what it meant. Journaling became a way of coping and analyzing and sorting out my brain.

I had a blog, too, from high school. But I realized that journaling felt very different than blogging. Yes, my blog was for me but others could see it too. My journal was for me, and it was in my handwriting and it could be touched and flipped through and gone back to any time I wanted. It can.

Looking back and counting, I have 5 of those mixed notebooks and one journal that is filled with journaling and not lists. I actually really like those mixed notebooks because they reflect everything that was going on-- what I had to do, and recipes, and what I had to bring the next day, or assignments...but my journal is my journal.

I've just finished my first journal-only notebook. I have a journal that I started when I came to Israel almost 3 years ago in January 2008. I stopped writing in it because I couldn't find it, and then when I couldn't find the journal I just finished I used that. But now I'm picking up that one to continue in it and write.

Being Israeli. I've noticed that my writing takes whatever language I'm surrounded by about what I'm writing. Confusing? Ok. Most of my journal is in English, with Hebrew words sprinkled in here and there. But if I'm writing about something that's going on then, and the something is in Hebrew, whatever I'm writing will be in Hebrew. For example, someone I went out on a date with- he and I speak in Hebrew and English, but more Hebrew. When I was writing about the date, it was in Hebrew-- my thoughts and feelings were in Hebrew, if that makes sense. When I saw a documentary as part of my work (we had a beginning of the school year meeting and part of it was a documentary about a street kid) and I wrote about it, I wrote in Hebrew. Again, my thoughts and my feelings were in Hebrew. I'm still more comfortable in English, especially when it comes to occupational therapy, and sometimes EMS (ambulance stuff-- my first EMS experiences were in Hebrew (yes, the course was in English but the terminology was in Hebrew and I worked on the Hebrew-speaking ambulances). But I'm a lot more comfortable expressing myself and I've been thinking and feeling in Hebrew more. I'm not sure if that makes me Israeli. But I do know that it's easier now to...be in Hebrew.

Poems

2010-11-13T22:20:00.008+02:00

Since I got here, made aliyah, I have written a few poems. I have to find the other ones, but this was one that I wrote after I was having a sort of writing slump and hadn't really written for a while. It's in Hebrew, followed by an English translation. Unfortunately, I don't think the English translation really feels the same as the Hebrew. But that's just me. I translate literally.

This was actually something I started when I was at the tekes for Yom Hazikaron (Israel's Memorial Day). I'm not sure I like it as is, but...here it is.

Background for those who are unfamiliar with Yom Hazikaron: It is the Israeli Memorial Day. There is a nation-wide siren at 8 pm that night, then another siren at 11 am. Cars stop driving and people get out and stand, students stand up-- the country pretty much stops for these few minutes. There are ceremonies, the broadcasts are Memorial-day appropriate. The names of those killed for the sake of Israel are read. It's unlike Memorial Day in the States; here there are no sales, but the cemeteries are full of people coming to visit graves of loved ones and friends. It's a day to remember not only the soldiers, but those who were killed in terrorist attacks as well. It's something that must be experienced to fully appreciate and understand it.

תפילה של עולה חדשה ביום הזיכרון

צפירה.

עוצרים, יוצאים, עומדים.

מתפללים.

חוזרים לרכב, מצטרפים לטקס.

אני עומדת פה, בקהל, אחת ממאות.

שומעת שירים, ואנשים מדברים על אלו שנרצחו...

אני רק עומדת.

ושומעת.

אין לי מישהו שאני מכירה שנהרג, שנרצח.

תודה לאלוקים.

תפילה קטנה יוצאת משפתי—

אנא ה', עשה שילדותי לא יהרגו.

אין לי ילדים עכשיו, אבל תן לי...ותן לי שיחיו.

בנים, בנות—כולם היו.

כולם שייכו לאמא ולאבא ולמשפחה.

ה' ישמור את נפשותם בגן עדן,

ויתן לי שלא אדע מזה.

Translation:

Prayer of a New Immigrant on Memorial Day

A siren.

Stopping, getting out, standing.

Praying.

Go back into the car, joining a ceremony.

I stand here, in the crowd, one of hundreds.

I hear poems, and people talking about those who were murdered...

I just stand.

And listen.

I don't have anyone that I know who was killed or murdered.

Thank G-d.

A small prayer leaves my lips--

Please, G-d, don't let my children be killed.

I don't have children now, but give me...and give me that they will live.

Sons, daughters-- they all were.

They all belonged to a mother and a father and a family.

G-d should guard their souls in the Garden of Eden,

And grant me that I should not know from this.

Learning to live in Israel

2010-11-10T20:10:00.002+02:00

One of the things I will not get to do is be a soldier in the Israeli Defense Force-- Tzahal. It is something that I want to do, considered doing, and then realized that I can contribute more as an occupational therapist and MDA volunteer.

I was 24 when I made aliyah. The army wasn't drafting me, because I was over 20 (21?). I could have volunteered to join, but I made aliyah in December. The next draft date was March and I most likely would not have made it for that one. March is followed by August and November. The earliest I could have gone in would have been August, at which point I would be 25. 25, going in to something that most people start at 18. I also would likely be in for 6 months; I could request more, which would enable me to get a better job within the army, but I would want to do Paramedics...not...just not matim for me.

Being in the army is kind of like...a crucible, if you will. The people get heated up, melted, and then have the chance to be re-formed into something new. EVERYONE is in the army-- excepting many people. So not really everyone. But it's something that I always knew about and thought about.

I knew about the "post-Army trip" where so many go backpacking around the world for 6 months or a year. What I didn't know was really how much the army puts life into limbo. I was dating someone in the army and the first weekend I got back from America we were supposed to see each other; he was supposed to be out, I would be home. Nice plan. We were really excited. I land...and because of the shooting in Chevron, he was going to have to be on base for Shabbos. Then he was getting out. Then he wasn't. Then he was-- he was getting ready to go to the bus to come into Jerusalem...and they called everyone back. He got out on Sunday- fine, nice. But...this is what it means to be Israeli.

To not plan because something is going to happen to change the plans.

To learn that even though someone "official" told you something, it means nothing unless you have it in writing with the name and signature and stamp of the person who said it, and even then it might not be acceptable.

The bureaucracy is more then in your mother country and it's in another language. Even when you ask for someone who speaks the language you want (say, English), you will get, "Ken [yes]?" when they answer the phone.

People here dispense with polite behavior. There is nothing wrong with someone cursing out the bus driver's (and his mother) because he did something the person didn't approve of. And when the other passengers get tired of the yelling at each other, they will tell the passenger and the bus driver to shut up. The lack of polite behavior is not meant as an insult-- it might even be a compliment. Which leads me to my next point:

Everyone here is family. You can yell at your family members-- and that includes the bus driver. Oh, the garbage man who put the bin back slightly to the left of where it was before. This means that, as family, everyone has rights to comment on everyone else, no matter the situation. This also means that people look out for each other and will often try to help (or what they see as helping).

Israelis like olim-- immigrants. They think we are crazy, but they love us anyway.

Shabbat Chaye Sara in Kiryat Arba/Chevron

2010-11-08T12:53:00.004+02:00

Where do I start? I really wanted to take pictures, but it was just...crowded and not worth trying to get out my camera, and then it was Shabbat and...I have pictures in my memory.

I went to sort-of cousins (we decided that the correct term for the family and how to explain how we are related is "chamula," which is the term for an Arab clan. We just happen to be a large family who used to live within about 4 blocks of each other (2 2-family houses and 1 2-family house a few blocks away). So-- I went to sort of cousins with my first cousin, and we met another sort-of cousin there who is an actual cousin of my sort-of cousin. Confused? It's ok. Moving on.

The whole experience was just overwhelming.

Break it down:

Friday

Took a bus from Binyanei Hauma. We left early, because we counted on lots of people (and therefore lines and waits) and traffic. Thanks to Murphy (and leaving earlier than we planned), we had neither. So we got there early.

There was a stand- basically a mobile ticket booth- with three or four windows and a sign- "הלוך ושב 18.30"- "There and Back- 18.30." There weren't long lines and there was bus after bus lined up. We took one bus to Tzomet Haminharot and then switched to a bulletproof bus for the rest of the trip. The bus was FULL of post-high school seminary/yeshiva students. Loud-comma-very.

Got to Kiryat Arba and went to my sort-of cousins. Was there a bit, and then went to where I was staying (a few minutes' walk away) to get ready for Shabbos.

Shabbat

We davened on Friday night at Givat Gal, which is a caravan community. The shul used to be in a bus, but now there is a real building (think 1-room schoolhouse, plus electricity and minus the wood-burning stove). The sunset on the way there was beautiful; at one point I stopped, turned around and just said, "Wow." The davening was nice- singing and there was a young boy who did part of it and the older men were encouraging him when he was having trouble. I was the only woman there, but lo nora (not a big deal)- they made a women's section for me :)

After davening we went back to the house and had dinner. After dinner there was an oneg at the Me'ara (the Cave-- Me'arat Hamachpela) in Ulam Yitzchak. BZ and I went (actually, everyone went, but BZ and I went together). We walked down this path that normally is locked (I think- there is a fence with a door and a lock; it was open, but if it wasn't Shabbat Chaye Sara with all the soldiers and police around, it would no be wise to go the way we did). There were tons of people and, of course, soldiers and police and patrols and security.

When I got to Me'arat Hamachpela, the first thing that struck me was the number of tents that there were. Lots and lots and lots of tents. Aka, lots and lots and lots of people.

We went to the Me'ara and made up to meet outside at a certain time, and then we went in. It was my first time there and it felt...even as I was going down the hill into Chevron, I felt a feeling of specialness and other-worldliness but familiarity, safety. It was my first time there, but it felt familiar. Also in Ulam Yitzchak (which is only open Chol Hamoed and Shabbat Chaye Sara, by the way) I went to where is supposed to be פתח גן עדן-- the entrance to the Garden of Eden-- and that, too, felt very familiar. The smell there, too. I said some Tehillim, but I was so tired that I wasn't focused.

In the morning I went back to Ulam Yitzchak for Shacharit (morning prayers). There was a chatan there, which was nice-- people threw candies, of course. It was very packed and stuffy, but people were nice about giving up seats for the elderly and pregnant or people who needed to sit. There was kiddush (food) outside after (grape juice/wine and cake and Yerushalmi kugel (Jerusalem noodle pudding), and then we went back for lunch.

After lunch I had the choice of napping or going back to Chevron. What do you think I did? Went back to Chevron, of course! Joined a tour in the early-middle-ish part, and then went back to the Me'ara (what, did you think I was going to miss an opportunity like this? Me'arat Hamachpela is so rarely open like this-- I am NOT missing the chance to daven there again!

When I left, I felt like I didn't want to leave, like it was pulling at my heart. Kind of the way I felt when I was leaving Israel in March 2008-- it hurt my heart; that's the best way I can describe it. It was kind of like...pulling me to stay, like I didn't want to leave. But we had to, because Shabbat was ending.

Motza"sh

Buses were packed. But they went straight from Chevron and Kiryat Arba to the Tachana Merkazit in Jerusalem (with a stop at Tzomet Gush, on my bus), no switching.

Overall I enjoyed. I want to go back when it's not Parshat Chaye Sara and there are fewer people there and it's not so packed and I can think a little more. Granted, I won't be able to go the same way and there will be less of the Me'ara open, but I think it will be a much more personal, meaningful experience and I'll be able to take things in more and actually concentrate better and more.

"ויהיו חיי שרה..."

2010-10-30T22:10:00.003+02:00

Shabbos. Parshat Chaye Sara. Kiryat Arba. Chevron. Me'arat Hamachpela. Lots of people. Lots of soldiers. Safe. Intense.

More tomorrow (or when I'm not falling asleep-- I decided it was a better idea to go on a tour of part of Chevron than to take a Shabbos nap. Hence, going to sleep early).

Missing

2010-10-16T23:00:00.002+02:00

This past week-- well, more since the Chagim actually-- I've been missing my family; my parents, sisters, grandparents. And my friends from NY.

This past week was really tough. It was just everything was coming down at once and it was just one of those weeks where you want to crawl into your bed at home and have someone take care of you. Someone hold you, hug you, tell you it's going to be ok, and just take care of you and you not have to think about planning what to eat, or worry about paying bills or anything.

Fortunately I have an amazing adopted family here who are really like my parents and siblings here. Problem is, I don't live at home. It was kind of like that when I was in my dorm and things were not so happy...it's not far to go back home. I just had to take the train (3 trains) or a bus and the train/the train, the train, and a bus. Now I have to take 2 (or 3) buses instead. It's just the getting back that's annoying.

So last week was a tough week in the Life of Lauren. Hope this one is better.

2010-09-23T20:45:00.002+02:00

It seems that the busier I am the less I have time to write in my blog and the more my actual handwritten journal gets written in.

Since I got back I've started working full-time in Misrad Hachinuch. I am working in 2 schools, and may be switching to work in 3 schools-- 1 one day/week, 2 two days/week each. Nothing wrong with any of the schools, but I'm finding myself as an OT in this country and learning how the system here works. One school that I'm at has students who are functionally pretty low-level and I've done some work with that population, but it's too much too new too soon. So I might be switching into a school that has higher-level kids-- learning disabilities, mostly. I have to get approval from my supervisor at Misrad Hachinuch to be in 3 schools. I don't know what's going to happen with that.

One nice thing about Misrad Hachinuch is that I get off for the chagim. The chagim here are so different. For starters, the buses say different things. Before Rosh Hashana they said "Shana tova." Between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur they said "K'tiva v'chatima tova" (or at least as much of that could fit on the screen), and now they say "Moadim l'simcha." I love being in a place that the buses say that even.

Rosh Hashana was different. There were more simanim than we had in NY, and davening was different too. I mean, it was Sefard, so that's different anyway. But-- it was also quicker.

Yom Kippur felt very different. For starters, there was a feeling of konanut-- readiness, and anticipation when I went to shul at night for Kol Nidre. I don't know how to explain it, but it felt like the world was waiting for...something. It was-- I can't explain how it felt, but it wasn't like anything I'd felt before.

Sukkot was one-day chag. It still feels like half a chag.

More on non-holiday stuff in a later post, when I have more to write about it.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

2010-09-02T20:26:00.001+03:00

More packing!

2010-08-13T15:30:00.002+03:00

This time the movers will be doing it!

I got an estimate for my lift, and now I just have to wait for the movers to come and pack it and then send it off! Here's hoping that my stuff gets there safe and sound, and there are no strikes!

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring...

2010-08-01T22:43:00.002+03:00

It's thunderstorming here. It doesn't rain in Israel in the summer, and even in the winter it's usually not thunderstorms. So it's pretty amazing to me to see them again, because I love them.

In other news, I'm waiting to get confirmation about an estimate for my lift. Hope that can happen this week and then have it sent asap. We shall see...things are coming together, it's really exciting and scary. But good scary, like a next logical step scary...just I haven't done it yet, so I don't really know what I'm doing.

"You're an Israeli wife"

2010-07-27T04:38:00.004+03:00

No, I'm not married, don't worry. I didn't, you know, date, get engaged and married in the past 5 days and manage to keep it all a secret.

I am dating someone, though, whose identity shall remain anonymous right now because I don't know if he is comfortable with blogging. We will call him B, since he is the second guy that I've dated since I made aliyah (and there is a "B" in his name). He is also an oleh, but he's been here for a while, and most of his immediate family made aliyah as well. We met a few months ago, but we only started dating about a month ago-- and, yes, I have been in the States for 3 of those weeks. We saw each other...well, when we started dating, and haven't seen each other since. Why? Because B is in the army, and the army didn't let him out the Shabbat before I left.

I told my adopted sister (for those of you who are just coming in now, my adopted family is awesome. My dad grew up with the mom, and our families have always been close-- they have always been like an aunt and uncle and the kids were like cousins) that I was dating someone and he's in the army. And she responded with the subject line.

Not quite a wife-- we're dating, not married, but this is a big part of Israeli culture. Army and the army life. I'm learning a lot about the army and the stupidity and the good that happens there. The 7-hour time difference is actually working because he's up at random hours coming off of shmira, or when I'm going to sleep he's just getting up, and when I get up he's sometimes waiting around for something or to go somewhere. So we make it work. But I'm learning that the army has a time schedule of its own. Just because you're supposed to go on shmira at 9 pm doesn't mean it's always going to happen; you might get switched, something might come up, they might call you to do something else. But the army is also respectful of religion (he is not in a Hesder unit (type of service that combines studying in a Yeshiva with army service))-- after one of the fast days there was a masa (yes, stupid and not so respectful there...). Normally all the soldiers would go, but the soldiers who fasted were excused-- they did shmira, I think. Or something else. And after the fast, the army served a huge meal with meat and chicken and...lots of stuff. And on the other fast day, he was excused from his patrols.

It's so strange and wonderful to me that even though he is in the army and we don't get to see each other much and won't get to see each other as often as we would like even when I'm back, right now he gets out every other weekend for 3 days-- Thursday, Friday, and Shabbat, aka "chamshu"sh (chamishi-shishi-shabbat)," and I know that those are times I can count on to see him (unless something comes up). If I was dating someone in the American army, I could easily not see him in-person for months at a time. I'm learning. Slowly, but I'm learning.

The non-army long-distance stuff-- it's annoying because we don't get to see each other much-- and when we do it's using Oovoo (like Skype, only better because you can have more people video conferencing in and you can send video messages). But it's something. Three years ago it wouldn't have been this easy. I also just got this service called Spikko, which gave me an Israeli number than B can call me on. Our phone bills are going to be huge, but this should make it a bit less, at least from his end. It's also different than a "regular" relationship because you're not physically with each other and you aren't going out on dates or spending time doing things together. We talk. A lot. And we play games over the phone-- Jotto, Battleship, Ghost (any other suggestions, please let me know! But not chess, because we already know about that). It's definitely harder than a normal relationship, and his army schedule in some ways makes it easier to talk, and in some ways makes it harder. But it's good.

Tisha B'Av

2010-07-20T21:55:00.004+03:00

Tisha B'Av is a Jewish day of mourning, the culmination of The Three Weeks and The Nine Days-- the day that the both the First and Second Temples were destroyed (the First by Vevuchadnezzar in 423 BCE, and the Second in 70 CE by the Romans). But it's more than that-- Tisha B'Av is a VERY BAD DAY for the Jewish people. This is also the day that the Jews in the desert accepted the negative report about Eretz Yisrael from the meraglim (the spies); The Bar Kochva revolt was crushed by Hadrian (Roman Emperor), and Betar (city of the Jews "last stand") was captured and liquidated in 135 CE; the Beit Hamikdash and the area around it were razed by Turnus Rufus, and Jerusam was rebuilt as a pagan city and Jews were not allowed in; The Jews were expelled from Spain during the Inquisition on 1492; WWI broke out in 1941 on Erev Tisha B'Av (the eve of Tisha B'Av); The mass deportation from the Warsaw Ghetto to Treblinka began on Tisha B'Av in 1942.

There are a lot of differences between Tisha B'Av and every other day. For starters, the two "big" fasts in the Jewish calendar are Yom Kippur and Tisha B'Av-- there are a lot of superficial prohibitions, but they are very, very different days. Tisha B'Av is a day of mourning, so in addition to fasting, we refrain from doing things similar to one who is in mourning. We sit on low chairs, we do not anointing for pleasure (for example, putting on perfume to smell good); washing (other than for hygiene purposes), having marital relations, wearing leather shoes, learning Torah (other than Tisha B'Av and mourning-related topics). There are more, but this is not, not is it meant to be, a halacha blog or entry. Go to Aish.com here or to OU.org here to learn more about the halachot (laws) and customs and practices of Tisha B'Av.

I'm trying to figure out how to actually mourn for the Beit Hamikdash. I don't know if I'm doing it right, I don't really know how I feel and...what...everything about it. I've never experienced the Beit Hamikdash, but I've been to the Kotel. I wish I was there now. I also wish I could cry about it. I feel like I want to, but I'm not, I don't feel...comfortable crying here. I think I need to be at the Kotel and in Israel for this one. My first Tisha B'av in Israel and I'm in New York.

Coming to America...

2010-07-09T22:18:00.002+03:00

I'm back. I've been back since Monday morning, and since then I've been struck by a lot of things. The most recent is today-- how different it feels than in Israel. Today is Friday, erev Shabbat. It doesn't feel like erev Shabbat, except for the fact that we are doing preparations at home. People are at work past 12 or 2 pm, the buses and subways will be running tomorrow-- note the changes on the MTA website.

Sunday is a day off. I am excited for that.

When I got off the plane, the first thing that hit me was the signs in Spanish. Welcome to America. Then when I walked outside, the ground was different-- the pavement itself, the way the sidewalks looked. The different types of people, so many...and most of the black people that I saw weren't Ethiopian and the women didn't have tattoos on their faces and necks.

I was walking on 7th Avenue-- and couldn't eat in any of the places I passed. Granted, it's like that in many places outside of Jerusalem especially, but it's not that bad in general. We're not talking about nice places-- even just a falafel or bagel place.

I'm ready to come home. I love that my family is here, and I can actually make a decent salary...but I don't feel comfortable. It's just enough out of alignment that I feel it. It's not that I don't speak the language or don't remember the culture. But it feels like I have a wall surrounding me that I'm not really a New Yorker so much as a Jerusalemite. And yet in Israel, I'm still from NY and always will be.

Heading...home?

2010-07-04T18:59:00.003+03:00

I'm going back to NY in a few hours-- leaving in about 45 minutes to an hour, to be specific.

When I go this time, I'm going back on my teufat ma'avar-- my temporary Israeli passport-- and coming in on my American passport. And when I leave I'm going to leave on my American passport and come in on my teudat ma'avar. Confusing.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. I'm mostly annoyed that I can't find this little red jewelry case-- it's about 1" x 1.5", so you can imagine that it's quite easy to lose. The frustrating thing is that I had it with some cards...and I have the cards. And the case is nowhere to be found. I looked in (read: emptied) the suitcases, shook out the clothes that were there, looked under the table near where I packed, emptied the backpacks...and nothing. Which is very frustrating and annoying. It had my name necklaces in it and some earrings... :(

I'm excited to see everyone. Tomorrow I'm either going to be going out to Queens, or Queens people are coming to me.

4th of July

2010-07-02T17:58:00.003+03:00

I forgot-- last night I went to a 4th of July party at the American Ambassador's house. More on it later, but b'kitzur-- it was a lot of fun.

There was a point in the ceremony when both The Star Spangled Banner (the American national anthem) and Hatikva (the Israeli national anthem) were sung. During The Star Spangled Banner only the singer (and maybe a few other people, but not many) sang. During Hatikva, there was an undercurrent of people singing. Not loud, but you definitely heard it. I was so proud of being Israeli at that moment-- our anthem is played --> we sing.

Last Shabbos (Shabbat) in Israel for 2 months

2010-07-02T17:41:00.003+03:00

I was on the 13 bus today, passing Machane Yehuda when it hit me-- this is my last Shabbat here for 2 months. As the bus was going past I turned my head, to try to get in the sight of Machane Yehuda on erev Shabbos one more time, one last little bit. I know I'm coming back on August 31, and I really want to see everyone. But Israel is home, and I know that as long as I'm not here I'm going to miss it.

I'm not going into this trip with the idea that I'm not going to enjoy New York. I just know that I will miss Israel. I'm excited to see my family and friends and I really miss all of them. But every time I leave it's like I'm being ripped from my home and there's a part of me that feels incomplete when I'm not here. NY and Israel are both home. But Israel, being in the country itself, feels more right than being in NY.

Oh, it was was my half-year aliyahaniversary on June 30. Happy half-year to me and the other olim on the December 30, 2009 NBN flight! I'm still trying to figure out where these past 6 months went.

Murgh

2010-06-29T00:36:00.001+03:00

Not happy with the army right now.

Why? Because I'm leaving on Sunday and I wanted to see someone before I left...and this Shabbat is a closed one, which means on base. Murgh.

I guess that's life in this country.

NY, here I come! (soon)

2010-06-21T10:50:00.002+03:00

I'm going back to NY for the summer.
It's weird-- I was so excited to come to Israel, every time I came before, and now when I'm going to NY, I'm just excited to see my family, I'm not excited to be back in NY (except that there are a lot of cheaper things there).

I'm confused.

2010-06-12T22:16:00.002+03:00

It's been about a month since I last updated. Tons has happened since then...
-Deposited my first check, which was very exciting
-Miriam found an apartment and that she, Eden, and I are renting
-Ordered checks
-Got my teudat ma'avar
-Was in the MDA EMS Championship up North
-Finishing Ulpan
-Finding a job
-Summer in NY!

So, let's start:
Check: I deposited my first check in my bank account! It doesn't seem like that big a deal, but I did it in Hebrew. I walked into one of the bank branches and said to someone, "Hi. I know this sounds sort of silly, but can you help me deposit this check? I've never deposited a check before and don't know what to do." So she did. And she was very nice and helpful, and said, "There's a first time for everything." And so it was. I successfully deposited my first check. Go me.

Miriam found an apartment and that she, Eden, and I are renting: Miriam found an apartment for us. It's mostly unfurnished-- it has a fridge and stove, closets, and a couple of pieces of furniture, but mostly not. No beds or anything. So we are working on getting furniture. It's 3 bedrooms and a HUGE living room. The kitchen is also big, and there's another side room with the stove and a second sink and a place for the washing machine. There's also a mirpeset-- two of the rooms open to the mirpeset and the third does not. Two toilets and one bathtub/shower. A little more than I wanted to pay, but it's really not unreasonable for what we are renting. The Arnona and va'ad bayit are also more expensive, but that seems to be normal for that area. The landlords are also supposedly good landlords and good people. Our lease starts July 1.

Ordered checks: I ordered (and picked up) my checks. I have to go back to the bank, though, because it showed that it took 9 shekels out of my account when it wasn't supposed to because as an olah chadasha I get 3 checkbooks free. There's someone in the branch who speaks English and she's been wonderful; I'll go talk to her.

Got my teudat ma'avar: Went to Misrad Hapnim to fill out the form, gave in the pictures, and paid. Miriam went to pick it up from the post office (because it was sent registered mail) and they wouldn't let her because she didn't have my ID with her. Murgh. I SIGNED the form so she could pick it up...and they still wouldn't let her. So I went to the post office and got there at 5:57-- it closes at 6. Someone was there at 6:03 and they wouldn't let him in. I'm very glad I got there on time. So I now have a teudat ma'avar, which is like a temporary passport. You can't get an Israeli passport until you've been a citizen for a year, but you need to travel on an Israeli document when leaving Israel so you get a teudat ma'avar until you can get your real passport. So I have one now.

Was in the MDA EMS Championship up North: SO MUCH FUN! It was 3 days of challenges and working with new people and just...fun. The theme was "From Gilboa to Carmel," which were the two regions that won the last Championship (it's every 2 years); Carmel won again this year from MDA (BLS and ALS), and Spain (BLS) and Canada (ALS) won this year from the international teams. I was on the Irish team with a driver from Netanya.

Finishing Ulpan: Tomorrow is my last day of classes. We have to be out by the 15, but I'm teaching a course starting Monday, so I'm moving out Monday morning. I have almost everything moved out; Basi came on Thursday night and picked up some suitcases and stuff, I brought one home on Friday, and I have some other random things to pack up that I'm just going to have to bring to the course, and we still have quite a bit from the kitchen. And the stand dryer. Miriam is going to be taking stuff. I don't know how, but we will have to make it work-- we have to have things out and in some order. Alan came on Friday and took a bunch of stuff-- a suitcase of kitchen stuff, and the oven-- to his machsan.

Finding a job: Work in progress. There was somewhere that wanted me to come work, but it was mornings, and before I finished Ulpan and I wanted to finish Ulpan. I'm now looking for jobs, preferably in schools or gan or ma'on. Afternoons work too; I definitely wouldn't mind working in the afternoon. The system is very different here in that there are more part-time positions and very few full-time positions available. I don't really know how benefits work here-- full-time/part-time. Are they different? How? What am I entitled to as an employee, etc. Tips anybody?

Summer in NY!: I'm going back July 4-August 31. It's going to be interesting, because I'm still a citizen-- I'm not giving up my American citizenship, I don't want to-- but in a way I'll be a tourist. I don't live in NY anymore, and...I think that's going to be a shock when I first get there. Of course I remember how things look and all that, but it's...my parents' house feels like home. It feels funny to say that NY, though, is home. I'm not sure that it is anymore, at least it's not completely home.

2010-05-09T00:28:00.003+03:00

How do you know what's right? I mean...now...I just...I'm questioning...

Did I do the right thing by making aliyah? I was so sure that this was right for me, that I wanted to be in Israel. And I am. I'm so sure that this is the right place for me and that I should be here.

But I’m also questioning if I shouldn’t have stayed in NY and shouldn’t have left some people.

Would staying there have just been safe? Coming to Israel was definitely a leap of faith on many levels and in a way there’s not a day that I don’t have some regret, or twinge of missing NY…home…something.

It’s so hard to be here. I love it and it's in a way easier to be here, I don't have to explain things. But it's so hard emotionally. You're missing things and people and you can't be there for your family and friends the way you were before and you want to and it just hurts.

You know there are other people who are going through this, and went through this, but somehow it's not your situation and it's just not the same.

I understand what Mom was saying about me being lonely. Mom, if you're reading this (not that I think you know it exists or know how to find it, but all the same)-- don't worry, I'm fine. I promise. I just miss the usual birthday routine.

Birthday thoughts

2010-05-08T23:09:00.003+03:00

I haven't forgotten about Yom Hashoah, Yom Hazikaron, and Yom Haatzmaut. I will also have Yom Yehushalyim to add to that list very shortly. But put those on the side for now.

My last birthday in Israel was at a very different point in my life. I was still living at home with my parents and I was in Israel on vacation. Not, you know, for life. The night before I was staying at Hannah's apartment with Eden and we broke out the cookies at midnight-- Stella D'oro Swiss Fudge cookies. Yummy. I opened one card and left the rest for the morning. The next morning we went to out 88-hour/natan course and I had a surprise birthday party with the um...yeah, the most interesting birthday cake I had ever had.

This year is completely different. I'm in Israel, but I'm living here...as in, not on vacation. I'm living here. My family sent cards and I supposed I could put them (or at least the card from my parents) on the table for the morning, but that definitely loses something. Even though I knew that every year there was going to be a card waiting for me when I got downstairs, it was always nice and exciting.

I also don't really know what to do for my birthday party this year. I don't have an apartment that I can really have friends over in because I live in a merkaz klita [absorption center] that happens to be sof ha'olam s'molah [end of the world, take a left]. Bars are not my thing. I decided to either do light dinner (bagels, salads, etc.) in the park, or dinner at a restaurant. The thing with a restaurant is that you have to make reservations and really know how many people, etc. In the park (or in an apartment) you can get a couple of dozen bagels, spreads, drinks, and snacks and people can come in and out. I don't really care, it's about the people.

2010-04-29T23:45:00.000+03:00

I sort of forgot about this. I've started journaling again, in an actual handwritten journal, and this kind of fell by the wayside. Sorry. Let's try this again.

First of all-- pictures. My internet here kind of sucks, so once I get back to NY (more on that at a later point in time) I'll upload from my first 6 months as an olah.

So-- Pesach. This is what I wrote in my iGoogledisrael column:
This was my first Passover (Pesach) in Israel, and my first Pesach as an Israeli. One thing that separates Israel from the rest of the world is the number of days in the holiday. Outside of Israel there are 8 days to Passover, and in Israel there are 7—so there is one less holiday-day (called “chag”) than outside. As a new Israeli, the concept of having only one day of chag is a little weird, because it kind of feels like half of the holiday is missing. In a way it is, but it’s still odd to have only one day.

Another difference is that you have to check EVERYTHING for not only being kosher for Passover (Kasher l’Pesach, or abbreviated as “kashl“ap”), but also checking to see if it’s kosher for Passover for everyone, or only for those who eat Kitniyot (legumes and such, including rice, beans, and corn; Jews of Sefardi descent eat them, Jews of Ashkenai descent don’t). There is a lot in Israel that is kosher for Pesach that may contain kitniyot, including drinks, snacks, even yogurt. Outside of Israel, especially in North America where I am from, things will generally not be on the kosher for Passover shelves if they have kitniyot in them, or they will be in a separate area. Here they’re very mixed in and you have to check things very, very carefully.

As far as the products—in Israel there is a law that chametz (leaven) products cannot be displayed for public sale. In North American, if you’re not in a kosher grocery store, then there is usually a part of the store sectioned for Passover products. In Israel, they drape plastic tablecloths over the non-kosher l’pesach areas and put a sign on them that says “chametz.” And anything else is kosher for Passover, however you have to check it for kitniyot.

And since it’s a national holiday, many people are off or take off from work and participate in the Israeli pastime of hiking and camping. The North is just starting to bloom, and many people go camping on the Kinneret and in other areas of the Galil and Golan. Another popular spot is the Dead Sea. One other thing—the buses, at least the Jerusalem buses, alternate the route number and direction with “Chag kasher v’sameach”—“A kosher and happy holiday.”

Passover in Israel…nothing like it.

My Pesach went like this:
-Seder. One day of chag. BBQ for lunch...mmmm!
-Feel like I'm missing half of the chag, so I listen to my aunt and uncle having a seder in the background, sit with them to be social, and then watch Numbers on the computer.
-Plan on relaxing at home
-Nix that plan and go to the Kineret
-Go to Karmiel overnight to see a friend
-Go to Tzefat and spend a day-and-a-half there. Intense.
-Go back home for Shabbat
-Spend Sunday getting ready for more chag
-More chag. One day again. Again, feel like half the chag is missing.
-Undo Pesach
-Isru chag. Have off from Ulpan, go back to Jerusalem

And that was Pesach. It was weird having to check things so much for things being kosher l'pesach NOT l'ochlei kitniyot. Even the Nestle cocoa, which I got in NY and was kosher l'Pesach...not here! It's l'ochlei kitniyot! Tricky things!

Yom Hashoah, Yom Hazikaron, and Yom Ha'atzmaut to follow. As well as Lag Baomer, which is this upcoming Motza"sh.

Missing home?

2010-04-07T21:28:00.002+03:00

I miss my family and friends. Just one of those moments.

I would like my room and my bed that I've was sleeping in since we moved into the house. My pillows, my quilt, and my Booba. Or the bear one of my friends gave me that I slept with when I was in the dorm and my Booba was at home.
I want to sleep against the blue corduroy backrest pillow that Elissa swiped repeatedly.
I would like to go to sleep with my sister in the other bed in my room and talk as we both fall asleep and then remember to tell her that I love her and give her a kiss before we both pass out. Or go to sleep in her bed because mine is covered with stuff (read: clothes).
Not be able to fall asleep or want to read before I sleep so I pick up one of the books along the wall or next to my bed and know that I will always have something to read because the wall is lined with books.
To walk in to my room and see the collages on my walls, the pictures, the posters, the lyrics.
Looking into my mirror and seeing the photos stuck in the edges where the mirror and the wood framing meet and looking down at my dresser, full of photo frames and tchachkes that mean something.
My stereo. With a record player. It took me 3 years to find it.
Being able to call my parents and sisters and many friends without even thinking about it. And walking home phone calls with Sara...I miss those...

I'm home here, but I miss my home in NY.

I can't really figure out this "home" business...Israel is home in that it feels right here. I guess that's what home is, where it feels right. And it's ok for both Israel and NY to be home. But it feels weird to call NY home because it feels not right there, but it feels right to be in the house I grew up in, with everything familiar.

Reflections on One Seder

2010-03-30T22:39:00.002+03:00

Somehow...it doesn't quite feel like Yom Tov with only one day of chag. I suppose that's normal-- but...it feels...missing something- wait, let's rephrase that so it's proper English and makes sense: it feels like something is missing. As much as the two-day yom tov was long, it feels like something is missing now. Like it's only half of a chag.

My aunt and uncle are doing a second seder; that's also weird, to have a second seder going on in the background while I'm sitting here tapping away on the computer.

Pesach in the Holy Land

2010-03-28T21:05:00.003+03:00

Subtitle: My first chag as an Israeli

Pesach is one of those holidays that is so darn family-centered. Growing up my parents, sisters, and I always went upstate with my father's parents, my aunt, uncle, and cousin (my dad's sister and her family), and my mom's parents (my mom is an only child). And there were 12 of us in the house, plus the dog-- Bubby and Zaidy (my dad's parents)'s room, my aunt and uncle's room, my family's room, and my Grandma and Grandpa (my mom's parents)'s room. The kids all slept in in their parent's rooms/in the couch when passed out from exhaustion at the seder.

We had our traditions-- the kids rotated setting the table/serving/cleaning up; 2 kids per seder and the rest of the meals were 1 child each. My mom brought the European kiddush cups for the seder, four of them in four different sizes. There were originally 3 in the set from my great-grandparents, and then a fourth one was added from a family friend. Only the largest two were big enough to actually have enough wine from, but we used them anyway. My Zaidy, my Grandpa, my dad, and my uncle each had a seder plate, and everyone had their own kiddush cup. My Zaidy's was red/maroon glass, my Grandpa's kiddush cup was green with a glass insert, my dad's was silver with his name, and my uncle's was silver also. My cousin had his own, too, also silver. My Bubby, Grandma, and aunt used glass ones, and my mom and sisters and I used the European cups and sometimes supplemented with other cups.

The way Pesach went in my house was a couple of weeks before Pesach, my parents would go upstate and bring stuff up, and then a few days before my Bubby and Zaidy would go up and supervise the cleaning lady. In our house in the city we would clean and get the house Pesachdik because my dad came back over chol hamoed to work. My Grandpa made the charoset in our house, with my little sister and I as taste testers; mostly wine, but he always made one container with grape juice.

We would all get upstate, and my Bubby and Zaidy would already be there, usually my aunt, uncle, and cousin as well, and my Bubby would be making chremzel (matzah meal pancakes) for us to eat. We would unload in between eating, saying hi, and petting the dog.

Once everything was in and we were ready to get ready for the seder, my Grandma would do the eggs, whoever was on duty for the seder would set the table with my Bubby, my Bubby would make the salad, my mom would be heating the food up, and my aunt would be doing the seder plates and whatnot. Everyone was doing something.

Then the guys came home from shul. Treasure would let us know. Eventually the guys would pick their matzahs, everyone would end up with a Haggadah (usually the same ones, although it always took 20 minutes to pick...), and we would start. Zaidy made kiddush, the Grandpa, then my dad, then my uncle, then BZ. For Karpas, my Bubby would make the salt water (with pepper too) and put it in two white bowls with the same cups every year. Once Yachatz happened, we (the kids) would tell our fathers/grandfathers that we would "keep" the afikomen safe and make sure it was in a safe place until the end of the seder. My BZ took his dad's, and us girls (my sisters and I) would split up between my dad, Zaidy, and Grandpa. Usually my dad gave it to my mom to hold and Lis got it; Andrea got Grandpa's because she sat next to him, and I got my Zaidy's. Once Andrea got married and went to Seder with Yoni's family, I took Grandpa's. And we would go through the seder, reading and talking. Ma Nishtana, Lis and BZ did. We used to do the multi-lingual thing, but then it got tiring. Of course there were the classic moments of, "And the rasha says, 'What kind of crap is this?'" and divrei Torah and comments interspersed in Maggid and in-between. Motzei everyone did on their own-- but until that happened... We got to shulchan orech-- no matter who was on duty, I served soup. My thing was soup. Is soup (as in, I know what everybody in my family wants and can tell you-- clear soup, veggies, no veggies, only certain veggies, noodles, kneidel, how much...it's kinda freaky/cool). Then came tzafun, aka negotiations. We used to negotiate individually, but eventually we all (all 4 of us cousins) negotiated together as a group, on one night for both sedarim. It was a game: we would hide the afikoman, we would say we won't give it back, my dad would threaten to eat another piece of matzah instead and not wait for the afikoman and we would talk to my Zaidy. Grandpa always agreed right away, or before my Grandma died he would "consult" with her. But it was just so much fun. As the seder went on, though, there would be different people "taking breaks" by falling asleep on the couch or going to their beds. At Hallel and Nirtzah, we would go around during Echad Mi Yodeah and Adir Hu, etc., taking turns reading. If I close my eyes-- actually, I don't have to, I can just picture it-- I can still hear almost hear my Grandma's voice, and I can still see and hear my Grandpa reading from the large print Haggadah in his English-Hungarian accent. I miss it. I miss them.

After Grandma died it wasn't the same-- close, but still felt her missing. And then Andrea got married and they were by us once, but after that went to the hotel. And last year Grandpa died so that was one less person at the table. And this year...well, this year, I wouldn't be there, my aunt and uncle came to Israel because BZ is here for the year, and so my Bubby and Zaidy and parent and Lis would have been the only ones. And that's depressing. So Bubby, Zaidy, my parents, and Lis went to the hotel and they're going to get to spend the Seder with Andrea and Yoni and Squishy-- one, at least. The other seder they're doing with Yoni's family.

I'm having a hard-ish time. Remember how my mom didn't want me to be lonely? I'm not lonely, but I do miss my family and friends back in NY. I think I feel it a little more acutely because of the break-up and not having that person like before, but it's also the first time I'm away from my family and missing the real traditions that we do every year and the...just the home and family. Sukkot isn't as much, because I went away for the last days anyway so it was kind of whatever. But Pesach-- we were all together. And there was always too much food and too many drinks and everyone getting on each other's nerves and being in and out and...this Pesach is going to be hard. Good, nice, different, but hard.

I also realized that I can't not live in Israel, but I definitely left someone I very well could have married. I'm having a bit of a down moment.

Two posts in one

2010-03-24T18:02:00.003+02:00

First Post:
Yesterday I had to go from Beit Yehuda in Givat Massua to Rechaviya; I needed the 13. I could have taken the 12 the other way to meet the 13, but the person at the front desk said I could also catch the 13 at Malcha. I didn't remember that, but I figured, "Well, that's the direction I need." So I asked the bus driver where I catch the 13. He asked me, "Where are you going?" I told him, and he goes, "You should have taken the bus the other way." Well, I hadn't...so he told me what buses to switch to and someone else chimes in, and then the front part of the bus was debating which was the best way for me to get where I needed to go. Only in Israel.

Second Post:
Two years ago at this time I was back in NYC. March 25, 2008, was my return flight to NYC after spending about 9 weeks in Israel.
I did not want to be back, I did not want to be back. It was more like a vacation or short trip in between being in Israel.

And here I am now, March 25, 2010, getting ready for my first Pesach as an olah, as an Israeli, and planning my trip back to NY from Israel. This time when I book a round-trip ticket it will be from TLV to JFK/EWR and back to TLV.

It just keeps hitting me...I live here. I live here. I. LIVE. HERE. ISRAEL. This is freakin' awesome!

The weekend

2010-03-19T15:25:00.003+02:00

In Israel, the workweek is a little different than in America.

In America, the workweek is Monday-Friday; typical business hours are 9-5. In Israel, the workweek is Sunday-Friday; typical business hours are anything from 8-6:30, with 2-3 hour breaks in the middle, and many places will open Sunday or Friday, be closed any day from Monday-Thursday, and often end their day at 12:30.

My week goes from Sunday-Thursday. I have classes from 8:30-12:45 Sunday-Thursday, and then Thursday-Saturday (Shabbat, here) I am free. Why is this nice? Why is this not nice?

I love having Friday free (not everybody has this, but many people do). I can get ready for Shabbat and not have to be pressured to do things in the 2 hours that I have once I get home from work. Or have to worry about having enough time to get to my destination before Shabbat.

Why is this not nice? Because when I want to do something on Motzei Shabbat, or when I take my Shabbat afternoon nap, I have to take into account that I have class at 8:30 am on Sunday morning. I miss my Sundays. But Fridays here are sort of like Sundays. Except that you have to be ready for Shabbat by the time sunset hits. Rather, 18 minutes before to light.

Another thing about Shabbat here- since pretty much everybody is Jewish, everybody wishes each other Shabbat shalom-- from the bus driver to the cashier in the supermarket to the garbage man to the taxi driver! Not everybody is Jewish, but most of the people that I am in contact with are, anyway. It's so nice.

שבת שלום לכולם! Or, Shabbat shalom everybody!