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.