Relationship changes, II

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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

"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)

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

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...

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

*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

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!

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

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

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

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

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...

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...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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?

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

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

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

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

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.

My Heart is Hurting

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

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

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

Standing

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.

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?

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?