Showing posts with label missing America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label missing America. Show all posts

Monday, August 8, 2011

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.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

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."

Friday, November 26, 2010

Thanksgiving

This year it was a bit different.

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

A missing piece

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

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

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

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Missing

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

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

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

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

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Birthday thoughts

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Missing home?

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

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

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

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

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Pesach in the Holy Land

Subtitle: My first chag as an Israeli

Pesach is one of those holidays that is so darn family-centered. Growing up my parents, sisters, and I always went upstate with my father's parents, my aunt, uncle, and cousin (my dad's sister and her family), and my mom's parents (my mom is an only child). And there were 12 of us in the house, plus the dog-- Bubby and Zaidy (my dad's parents)'s room, my aunt and uncle's room, my family's room, and my Grandma and Grandpa (my mom's parents)'s room. The kids all slept in in their parent's rooms/in the couch when passed out from exhaustion at the seder.
We had our traditions-- the kids rotated setting the table/serving/cleaning up; 2 kids per seder and the rest of the meals were 1 child each. My mom brought the European kiddush cups for the seder, four of them in four different sizes. There were originally 3 in the set from my great-grandparents, and then a fourth one was added from a family friend. Only the largest two were big enough to actually have enough wine from, but we used them anyway. My Zaidy, my Grandpa, my dad, and my uncle each had a seder plate, and everyone had their own kiddush cup. My Zaidy's was red/maroon glass, my Grandpa's kiddush cup was green with a glass insert, my dad's was silver with his name, and my uncle's was silver also. My cousin had his own, too, also silver. My Bubby, Grandma, and aunt used glass ones, and my mom and sisters and I used the European cups and sometimes supplemented with other cups.
The way Pesach went in my house was a couple of weeks before Pesach, my parents would go upstate and bring stuff up, and then a few days before my Bubby and Zaidy would go up and supervise the cleaning lady. In our house in the city we would clean and get the house Pesachdik because my dad came back over chol hamoed to work. My Grandpa made the charoset in our house, with my little sister and I as taste testers; mostly wine, but he always made one container with grape juice.
We would all get upstate, and my Bubby and Zaidy would already be there, usually my aunt, uncle, and cousin as well, and my Bubby would be making chremzel (matzah meal pancakes) for us to eat. We would unload in between eating, saying hi, and petting the dog.
Once everything was in and we were ready to get ready for the seder, my Grandma would do the eggs, whoever was on duty for the seder would set the table with my Bubby, my Bubby would make the salad, my mom would be heating the food up, and my aunt would be doing the seder plates and whatnot. Everyone was doing something.
Then the guys came home from shul. Treasure would let us know. Eventually the guys would pick their matzahs, everyone would end up with a Haggadah (usually the same ones, although it always took 20 minutes to pick...), and we would start. Zaidy made kiddush, the Grandpa, then my dad, then my uncle, then BZ. For Karpas, my Bubby would make the salt water (with pepper too) and put it in two white bowls with the same cups every year. Once Yachatz happened, we (the kids) would tell our fathers/grandfathers that we would "keep" the afikomen safe and make sure it was in a safe place until the end of the seder. My BZ took his dad's, and us girls (my sisters and I) would split up between my dad, Zaidy, and Grandpa. Usually my dad gave it to my mom to hold and Lis got it; Andrea got Grandpa's because she sat next to him, and I got my Zaidy's. Once Andrea got married and went to Seder with Yoni's family, I took Grandpa's. And we would go through the seder, reading and talking. Ma Nishtana, Lis and BZ did. We used to do the multi-lingual thing, but then it got tiring. Of course there were the classic moments of, "And the rasha says, 'What kind of crap is this?'" and divrei Torah and comments interspersed in Maggid and in-between. Motzei everyone did on their own-- but until that happened... We got to shulchan orech-- no matter who was on duty, I served soup. My thing was soup. Is soup (as in, I know what everybody in my family wants and can tell you-- clear soup, veggies, no veggies, only certain veggies, noodles, kneidel, how much...it's kinda freaky/cool). Then came tzafun, aka negotiations. We used to negotiate individually, but eventually we all (all 4 of us cousins) negotiated together as a group, on one night for both sedarim. It was a game: we would hide the afikoman, we would say we won't give it back, my dad would threaten to eat another piece of matzah instead and not wait for the afikoman and we would talk to my Zaidy. Grandpa always agreed right away, or before my Grandma died he would "consult" with her. But it was just so much fun. As the seder went on, though, there would be different people "taking breaks" by falling asleep on the couch or going to their beds. At Hallel and Nirtzah, we would go around during Echad Mi Yodeah and Adir Hu, etc., taking turns reading. If I close my eyes-- actually, I don't have to, I can just picture it-- I can still hear almost hear my Grandma's voice, and I can still see and hear my Grandpa reading from the large print Haggadah in his English-Hungarian accent. I miss it. I miss them.
After Grandma died it wasn't the same-- close, but still felt her missing. And then Andrea got married and they were by us once, but after that went to the hotel. And last year Grandpa died so that was one less person at the table. And this year...well, this year, I wouldn't be there, my aunt and uncle came to Israel because BZ is here for the year, and so my Bubby and Zaidy and parent and Lis would have been the only ones. And that's depressing. So Bubby, Zaidy, my parents, and Lis went to the hotel and they're going to get to spend the Seder with Andrea and Yoni and Squishy-- one, at least. The other seder they're doing with Yoni's family.

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

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

Friday, December 25, 2009

I don't even know what to put in the subject line.

It's my last Shabbos at home before I make aliyah. I'm not sure how I feel. In a way it still hasn't hit me yet and in a way it's really hitting me now, like, "Last Shabbos here."

Sara pointed out last night that I wasn't leaving forever, that I'll be back in 6 months; she said something like, "It's like you're going on a trip, but instead of it being 3 months it's 6 months." It still FEELS different because I'm not going on a trip, I'm going to make a life there. It's really scary now-- I'm leaving my job and financial security and safety and my friends and comfort and knowing things here for a place where I will be making about 1/4 of what I make now, will be living on my own and responsible for bills and it's a language that I understand somewhat, but I'm not as fluent as in English and it's...it feels right there, but it's really scary because I'm leaving on my won for the first time, really on my own. I guess that makes me a grown-up? That's kind of scary. I'm really starting to "get" what Mom was saying about being lonely. I have Rita and Dov and everyone and friends and they will help me get through it and start my life there, but it's starting my...maybe that's what it is.

I'm not only moving, but I'm starting my life. I think more than the moving to Israel, it's the moving out and being so much on my own and disconnected from my parents that scares me. I know I have to do this, but I just...I never thought I would be doing this and it's scary.

Maybe the post title should be "scared"-- no, that's too negative and it's...I'm scared but I'm also eager and excited.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

getting cold feet

Let's go over that list of concerns-- you know, the one that seems to stay the same, no matter how many times I go over it for no good reason (because there's nothing new added and nothing taken away)...let's try it like this: concern-reason-solution (if applicable)

1. Money (biggest concern) - Because I need money to live on and I won't have an immediate income. Yes, I'll have sal klita, but that's not so much, and sal klita stops after 7 months (8, if you count the housing assistance grant) and then I don't have an income. Yes, I can get unemployment, but I don't want to and can't necessarily count on that. And Israeli salaries aren't American salaries. I want to live in Jerusalem, at least initially, because that's where my chevre is mostly. Things are expensive there, though. Even though rent is, say, ~$400-$600, and I could easily pay that on my current salary, I have no clue what my Israeli salary will be (once I start getting one).
Fixed expenses: Rent + arnona + va'ad bayit, inner-city bus transportation, internet, landline phone (if applicable), extra medical coverage
Unfixed-But-Will-Be-Pretty-Much-The-Same-Each-Month expenses: Cell phone, grocery, electricity, water,
Completely Unfixed expenses: Eating out, out-of-city transportation, bank fees

2. Job (ties into #1) - I need money to live off of - No answer. I have to take the OT licensing exam, except it's in Hebrew...which sucks, because my Hebrew is not good enough yet. It takes me about three times as long as it does in English, and I have to look a lot up. Not going to be able to do that on the exam...And I know there are other jobs I can do, but...I just...maybe it's the overqualification and pride. But I can't see myself working as a cashier or cleaning houses. That aside, I can't even speak Hebrew well enough for those. And I'm not a salesperson to work as HAS. I really don't know.

3. Missing family and friends - Because most of them are in the US - Skype is a possible solution, and an okay one. But there are things I won't be able to do, such as physically be there and help. Like now-- I'm spending about 1.5-2 hours at the hospital with my Zaidy every day. When I'm in Israel, I won't be able to do that. Even if I could "visit" him over Skype, there's things I can't do through the computer. I can't help my mom schlep through the computer, or help my dad with household things. It's things that they can do but me being there makes it easier. I talk to Andrea and Yoni on the phone more, but Squishy hasn't quite gotten the hang of it yet. I'm going to miss her a lot, seeing her do things and just...her. Elissa-- I don't even want to think about it; we're scarily like 1 person in 2 bodies. And I'm leaving Sara and Chari. This sucks. And I don't know how often I'll be able to come in-- I'd like to come in at least for summers, because that way I can work here for the summer and get to spend 2 months with my family. But I don't know if I'll really be able to.

4. Living Arrangements- Because I need somewhere to live after ulpan and don't want to live in a merkaz klita - I want to eventually move up North. I know I don't want to live in an Anglo enclave/mini America. It's going to be much more expensive in terms of everything, and it's not exactly conducive to klita. If I'm moving to Israel, I'd like to move there. I want to live in a place with other olim, because that increases the availability of things for olim and I will definitely be taking advantage and using whatever I can, but I don't want to be in an American bubble. I want to be in at least a mixed area. Most of my chevre is in Jerusalem, and really if I want to get married, the places with the most singles are Jerusalem and TA. And I have more friends in Jlem and the merkaz overall.



What else? Of course I'll miss Wal-Mart and Jack's World and JCPenney and the subway (don't even get me started on how much I'm going to miss the subway) and real ziploc bags. But I'll have the shuk and the crazy Israeli drivers and...salad at every meal-- actual fresh veggies. And fresh halva, which I can get sick on. And, well...I'll be in Israel.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

February 3, 2008

12:38 pm
I spoke to Esther about leaving early, and she was very chilled about it. Which is good. I liked that she didn't try to push me in any direction.
I also tutored today-- a new girl; it's her first day, I liked it-- if I come back and am around here, I'd definitely tutor.
But before all this, I talked to Sara! I miss her! (if you're reading this, I really can't wait for a walking home phone call) I've also got my first 3 Shabbatot planned out: home, Cooper Shabbaton, then Cooper...unless I don't go to Chicago until after the summer, because I've got to be in NY for a few things in the May-June-July time period,,,so I'd be coming in to NY frequently...so I might go to Chicago after the Chagim, because I know I want to be home for the Chagim...I'll see. Who knows where my life will be in 6 or 8 months.

January 30, 2008

1:25 pm
In school. It's a snow day. "So why is Lauren in schoolif it's a snow day?" you ask? The answer is because I didn't know it was a snow day until I got to school because the person who was supposed to call the people in my apartment to let us know didn't know she was supposed to call. So we didn't find out until we got here.
But everything worked out nicely because (a) I would be very bored in the apartment, and (b) this was I can use the internet and computers to my heart's content because no one is waiting in line/for them, and the internet is on, and there's no class!
There's a couple other girls here, so I'm not the only one here, which would be freaky and I would not stay. But I'm not. Which is good.
So-- snow here. It's not really snow, it's more like slush-rain. The ground is covered with slush, not snow, and not plain puddles. I'll take pictures and put them up once I'm settled at Rita's.
Yeah, so my flatmates are moving out at the end of the week-- Rachel on Friday, and Penina on motza"sh. It is going to be very lonely and very freaky/scary and weird being alone in the apt. But other girls are supposed to be moving in, which makes me feel better. The 6th floor apt's girls are moving up, just don't know exactly when.
What else...I miss NY-- not as much NYC, but my family and friends. This is the longest I've ever been away, and I really miss them. It's also the time shift-- I'm not used to there being 7 hours between us-- max 3, when I call people in CA, or when I was there. It's still weird. I love it here, but IU can;t wait to get back to NY to see everyone there.