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?

Coming to America...

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

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

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

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

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

4th of July

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

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

Last Shabbos (Shabbat) in Israel for 2 months

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

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

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

NY, here I come! (soon)

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

I'm confused.

Into the single digits

The countdown, not the temperature in NY, although it kind of almost feels like it when the wind blows. For those you who have not heard, there was a nor'easter last night (Motza"sh) until Sunday morning. It dumped anywhere from 6-26 inches (that's 15.2-66 cm for you non-Americans) on Westchester-NYC-Long Island. I have had my snow for the season, I am ready to come to Israel. It's supposed to snow-then-turn-to-rain on Christmas, which I will be in NY for. I will also be eating the gingerbread castle/palace/harem on Christmas Eve instead of on New Year's Eve, as has been the tradition for the past couple of years. Unfortunately, I won't be here for that this year. Fortunately?

It's weird...there are all of these things that I'm hearing about that I will be missing...because I'll be in Israel. It's starting to get more real. It's like-- no, I won't be there...I'd love to, but I'll be in Israel and I can't come in.

I know in my head and my heart it's the right thing to do, and I want to be in Israel...but I...I'm starting to get the "going to miss a lot of things."



I also saw the person who I broke up with today at my aliyah party. I was so excited to see him because he was one of my really good friends, but as I was walking to the subway on my way to go home, I started thinking about him and what I was giving up. I gave up someone I could have married...not definite, but a definite possibility. I was talking to Rabbi S. and I said something about that I was going out with someone for a little bit, but we broke up because I was making aliyah and he wasn't. Ever. Not like, "Maybe," but "Never." And Rabbi S said, "Hashem sees that." And that struck me. Not because I'm so, "Hashem this, Hashem that," and because "G-d" is every other word out of my mouth-- but the idea that this is something that is bigger than me. There's a mishna in Masechet Ketubot (I'm pretty sure it's Ketubot; not looking it up at the moment) that says that if either spouse wants to move to Israel and the other refuses-- that's [valid] grounds for divorce. This, moving to Israel, making aliyah, is so much bigger than me and it's something...I don't know. I mean, this was a relationship that I wanted for 3 years. 3 years! And to have it and then have it taken away/end because I'm moving to Israel? Not fair. But also this mishna says that one spouse wanting to move to Israel and the other refusing is valid grounds for a divorce is also like-- ok. I'm not crazy. I mean, I am...I gave up something I wanted for 3 years that could have been a marriage. But there's something bigger than that, which apparently is not new. And G-d knows that.

So here is to the countdown continuing; me getting more accustomed to the idea of not being around for everything; getting acclimated to my new life as an olah; and to finding my bashert (more on this later...yes, there's more)!

shopping

So when I was in Israel I would convert prices into dollars. I never thought I'd be converting into shekels-- and DEFINITELY not in America. Well, guess who did just that in Farmer's Market (a small grocery store in upstate NY-- like all good New York City Jews, my family "goes upstate" for the summer/Shabbatot).

"Now why would she do a crazy thing like that?" you ask. The answer is-- they had Israeli ice cream...and it was good stuff, too...I saw the price listed in dollars and cents (because we are in America, after all, despite the abundance of Israeli products in even places like random small supermarkets and Wal-Mart). And I immediately converted it into shekels to figure out how much it was. I think that's a very big sign of identity confusion (wait 'till I get to Israel! Then I'll really have issues! I should write a post on all the cross-cultural confusion in my life, and then once I get to Israel see what happens).

If anyone has any suggestions for un-confusing yourself, please let me know.

Why Israel is My Country

Wish I could really clarify and put it into a sentence.

My coworkers don't really get why I say that Israel is my home-- after all, I was born and raised in America. I have a social security number, an American passport, driver's license-- I don't have an Israeli identification number, passport, or license...and yet, if it came down to making a choice between being an American citizen and an Israeli citizen, I'd probably say Israeli. I don't want to give up my American citizenship-- I am grateful to be an American citizen and live in America and have the protection and freedom to say and do what I want. When I'm in Israel, I identify myself as an American-- when I contacted places in Israel about OT, I started with, "Hi, I'm an OT from the US." And that's how I was introduced: "This is Lauren. She's an OT from the US..." When I open my mouth, I'm easily identified as a foreigner and once I say, "Hi," I am immediately known as North American, probably assumed to be an American because there are so many of us there... See? I just did it-- "so many of us." "Us " being Americans.

It's a dual identity that I struggle with, since I'm not yet Israeli. I am not Israeli, but I feel so connected...I lived there for only a short while, but I've been raised with Israel in my home, that it's mine. I've been singing Israeli songs and watching Rechov Sumsum (Sesame Street, Israeli style) since I was born; Yerushalyim Shel Zahav is beautiful, but Naomi Shemer can get on your nerves after a while. Barbaaba is a cute but sad song. I grew up with the culture and knowing that my parents were there and helped shape Israel, in however a small way. I call my parents Ima and Abba (as well as Mom and Dad-- I switch off all the time). My Abba rolls the reish in "breishit" during kiddush. I've developed an accent that's somewhere between American and Israeli when I speak Hebrew. I get asked, "Wait, didn't you make aliyah already?" and "Why are you going back [to America]?" It's...I'm not Israeli. I haven't lost friends and relatives in piguim or wars. I haven't experienced what it's like to live life after an attack-- actually, I sort of have. The night of Merkaz HaRav, I went back to town for a bit then did a shift. It felt surreal, but at the same time, it was life. I wasn't about to not do something because some idiot went on a rampage.

I worry now because I know my friends are in Gaza. I called a friend and said, "Hey, I'm here, are you around?" and he said, "No, I'm in the Army." Oh. Right, then, I guess I'm not seeing you this time. Another friend arranged a bowling trip and in the end couldn't go because he was needed in the South because of the rockets. My friends and their families are right in the firing line. My brother-in-law's brother's unit is a Gaza unit; we used to joke about not telling our moms about the places we were because they would worry. He's not in for medical reasons, but his unit is. I know what it's like to take a bus that you hear about getting overturned the next day and being able to get on the same line when you're back.

Am I Israeli? Not technically. But do I feel it? Definitely. It's a mentality, a resilience, that you don't see in many places. On September 11, 2001, NYC stopped. In Jerusalem, two hours after the shooting at Merkaz HaRav, people were back in town-- actually, town was never really empty, just a little quieter that night. It's sad in some ways, but it shows an endurance and an ability and desire to live as normal a life as possible, even with the possibility that someone you know might turn around and kill you.

Unfortunately this past trip I was not able to go down to the South because I had appointments and did not have the 26 hours off that I needed to be able to go. But I believe firmly in what Israel is doing-- that doesn't mean that I like that innocents are being hurt-- no, but Israel is taking all the steps she can to minimize innocent casualties.
What other country drops leaflets and sends text messages to cell phones, letting the people in the area know that they will be attacking and they should leave? Why shoudl Israel go in in foot-- it risks Israeli soldiers' lives-- it's much safer for them to bomb from the sky. Israel is...I think Israel has exercised remarkable restraint over the past years. Missles have been falling in Sderot for 7 or 9 years-- I don't remember the exact number. The playgrounds there have recently been rebuilt...to make them safe for the children to play in while the missles fall...young children there don't know a life without sirens and 15-second warnings. Does Hamas drop leaflets and send text messages to the people in Sderot and Ashkelon and DImona and Beer Sheva when they will be attacking? Uh-- no. Oh, yeah, and Israel stops attacks for 3 hours every day to allow humanitarian aid into Gaza. Nevermind that Hamas is taking the supplies. Can you imgine America saying, "All right, country x, we'll stop our attacks for 3 hours a day to let supplies in to you." No, I can't either.

This is why Israel is my country. No other country is so damn moral but gets condemmed by the world for still somehow being wrong.

How did this turn into politics? (retorical)