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.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Learning more lessons
Despite working in all misrad hachinuch schools, documentation is different in each one.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, February 11, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
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.
-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.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
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?
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?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Sorry...
Haven't updated in a while. Oops.
Let's see...what's been going on since my aliyahniversary? Not much. But I'm going to update anyway.
To celebrate my aliyaniversary, I had the gingerbread party. This is what the house looked like before it was eaten: --scratch that, Blogger is not a fan of uploading my pictures now-- So...the house was decorated with cranberries, Fruit by the Foot, gumdrops, tea biscuits ("biskveetim"), pull 'n' peel, jelly beans, marshmallows, chocolate, toffees...lots of candy. All held in place by royal icing which we used as glue. A few people came, decorated people, ate the house...yum. Next year- maybe going back to basics. Hopefully more people will come (as a side note, "hopefully" means "in a hopeful manner." That would mean that my sentence actually reads, "In a hopeful manner, more people will come." Which is not what I mean at all; I mean, "I hope that more people will come." And I know that I am using the word incorrectly. Moving on) and it will be more fun.
In terms of work- my third school is getting better, now that I'm getting more into it. I might stay there another year, because it's...it takes time to get into things. And it seems that now, that I'm doing more and actually doing OT instead of trying to set up a schedule and getting frustrated, I'm actually treating. The downside is that this population is VERY tough. I thought it was a school for learning disabilities, and it is (at least technically) classified as such, but the population is also very significantly behavioral/emotional problems. Yay! I don't even get mainstream Israeli culture, let alone culture with problems! My second school is...tough. I had a session that the principal sat in on. I thought she was coming to see a different session-- and she came late and didn't come to that one. She saw a session that was VERY tough for me-- one of the classes that I work in is mostly communication and developmental delays-- and I have two very involved children in that class, and she happened to have seen one of the tough ones for me. We talked about the observation after, and she said some things from an OT perspective as well that I actually thought about as I was treating, but there was also some pressure that I felt because...well, it was an observation and the principal is not only my principal but she is an OT as well so she looks at things from an OT perspective also. But she also came to another session-- at the discussion she asked me if I had other groups today, and what time? So she came to another group- a movement/organization and social skills group, which she came to and it was REALLY good. She felt that the game they played at the end was a little low for them, but she also did acknowledge and understand why I chose the game, despite it being a little low for them (just-right challenge anybody?). She also saw me in a very good session- a population that I'm more comfortable with, better with. I did a little EI and worked with some kids who had communication problems, but this is very different in terms of setting and HOW involved the kids are. These kids are more involved than ones I've worked with before, and I'm having difficulty communicating with them. I know that I need guidance and instruction in this area. But now she also sees that I'm not incompetent and I know what I'm doing-- she saw the technical-- she really saw it in the first session, and that was how she described the session: technical--, but this time she also saw the "art" part of my practice in addition to the "science." Anyway, so that school is more of a challenge than it was originally. My first school is fine. The other OT that I see and I get along, and we're actually going to be going ahead with a splinting project and make the kids splints. And about half the kids there need them. Yay for splinting practice! Oh! And so far I've gotten two pay stubs. Not that they were necessarily correct or anything, but it's a start. And I signed up for the keren hishtalmut (every 6-8 years I get a sabbatical to go study) before December 31, so this year WILL count, which is good.
Social Life- Need to work on that more. I am going to audition for a play tomorrow (I think), so we'll see what happens with that. English, obviously.
Yesterday was Shirah's wedding. Shirah and I sat next to each other on the plane here and were in ulpan together. Last night was her wedding which was kind of a mini Ulpan reunion. She was a beautiful kallah, and the wedding was-- someone described it as feeling like a bat mitzvah, and I understand that. There was a...fun-ness and so much joy. Shirah's parents and other family was there by Skype, since they weren't able to come in. It was a lot of friends from Shirah's side, and, at least for me, this was totally, totally about making Shirah (and Moshe) happy-- being משמח חתן וכלה. And this was what this wedding felt like.
I also realized I need to wander around my neighborhood and make friends here. I'm staying in my apartment this Shabbos, and I'm eating by Yehuda and Elkie and Aryeh and Elinor for dinner and lunch.
Oh, my roommate got engaged. Mazal tov!
What else? That's about it.
I do apologize for the lack of entries lately. It seems that the busier I am, the less time I have to blog and the more my handwritten journal gets written in, simply because I take it with me and write waiting for the bus or in meetings when I need to have my hands busy or just am waiting for something somewhere. I will try to blog at least once a week.
Another blog I would like to draw your attention to: my friend and fellow olah, Ophra, has a beautiful blog where she writes about...well...pretty much everything. And her poetry is so expressive ::hearts:: She writes here: A Labyrinth
Let's see...what's been going on since my aliyahniversary? Not much. But I'm going to update anyway.
To celebrate my aliyaniversary, I had the gingerbread party. This is what the house looked like before it was eaten: --scratch that, Blogger is not a fan of uploading my pictures now-- So...the house was decorated with cranberries, Fruit by the Foot, gumdrops, tea biscuits ("biskveetim"), pull 'n' peel, jelly beans, marshmallows, chocolate, toffees...lots of candy. All held in place by royal icing which we used as glue. A few people came, decorated people, ate the house...yum. Next year- maybe going back to basics. Hopefully more people will come (as a side note, "hopefully" means "in a hopeful manner." That would mean that my sentence actually reads, "In a hopeful manner, more people will come." Which is not what I mean at all; I mean, "I hope that more people will come." And I know that I am using the word incorrectly. Moving on) and it will be more fun.
In terms of work- my third school is getting better, now that I'm getting more into it. I might stay there another year, because it's...it takes time to get into things. And it seems that now, that I'm doing more and actually doing OT instead of trying to set up a schedule and getting frustrated, I'm actually treating. The downside is that this population is VERY tough. I thought it was a school for learning disabilities, and it is (at least technically) classified as such, but the population is also very significantly behavioral/emotional problems. Yay! I don't even get mainstream Israeli culture, let alone culture with problems! My second school is...tough. I had a session that the principal sat in on. I thought she was coming to see a different session-- and she came late and didn't come to that one. She saw a session that was VERY tough for me-- one of the classes that I work in is mostly communication and developmental delays-- and I have two very involved children in that class, and she happened to have seen one of the tough ones for me. We talked about the observation after, and she said some things from an OT perspective as well that I actually thought about as I was treating, but there was also some pressure that I felt because...well, it was an observation and the principal is not only my principal but she is an OT as well so she looks at things from an OT perspective also. But she also came to another session-- at the discussion she asked me if I had other groups today, and what time? So she came to another group- a movement/organization and social skills group, which she came to and it was REALLY good. She felt that the game they played at the end was a little low for them, but she also did acknowledge and understand why I chose the game, despite it being a little low for them (just-right challenge anybody?). She also saw me in a very good session- a population that I'm more comfortable with, better with. I did a little EI and worked with some kids who had communication problems, but this is very different in terms of setting and HOW involved the kids are. These kids are more involved than ones I've worked with before, and I'm having difficulty communicating with them. I know that I need guidance and instruction in this area. But now she also sees that I'm not incompetent and I know what I'm doing-- she saw the technical-- she really saw it in the first session, and that was how she described the session: technical--, but this time she also saw the "art" part of my practice in addition to the "science." Anyway, so that school is more of a challenge than it was originally. My first school is fine. The other OT that I see and I get along, and we're actually going to be going ahead with a splinting project and make the kids splints. And about half the kids there need them. Yay for splinting practice! Oh! And so far I've gotten two pay stubs. Not that they were necessarily correct or anything, but it's a start. And I signed up for the keren hishtalmut (every 6-8 years I get a sabbatical to go study) before December 31, so this year WILL count, which is good.
Social Life- Need to work on that more. I am going to audition for a play tomorrow (I think), so we'll see what happens with that. English, obviously.
Yesterday was Shirah's wedding. Shirah and I sat next to each other on the plane here and were in ulpan together. Last night was her wedding which was kind of a mini Ulpan reunion. She was a beautiful kallah, and the wedding was-- someone described it as feeling like a bat mitzvah, and I understand that. There was a...fun-ness and so much joy. Shirah's parents and other family was there by Skype, since they weren't able to come in. It was a lot of friends from Shirah's side, and, at least for me, this was totally, totally about making Shirah (and Moshe) happy-- being משמח חתן וכלה. And this was what this wedding felt like.
I also realized I need to wander around my neighborhood and make friends here. I'm staying in my apartment this Shabbos, and I'm eating by Yehuda and Elkie and Aryeh and Elinor for dinner and lunch.
Oh, my roommate got engaged. Mazal tov!
What else? That's about it.
I do apologize for the lack of entries lately. It seems that the busier I am, the less time I have to blog and the more my handwritten journal gets written in, simply because I take it with me and write waiting for the bus or in meetings when I need to have my hands busy or just am waiting for something somewhere. I will try to blog at least once a week.
Another blog I would like to draw your attention to: my friend and fellow olah, Ophra, has a beautiful blog where she writes about...well...pretty much everything. And her poetry is so expressive ::hearts:: She writes here: A Labyrinth
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.
There's a song from "RENT"-- actually, just a couple of the lines-- "Halloween":
"How did we get here? How the hell-pan left, close on the steeple of the church.
How did I get here, how the hell?
Christmas! Christmas eve, last year."
Last year I built a gingerbread castle with Sara and Heather and Yael, and then Vera, Moses, Talia, Matt, Laura, Esther, Yosef and Dylan came over and we built, decorated, and ate the gingerbread at my going-away party, because I wasn't going to be around for the New Year's party.
This year I built and ate a gingerbread house with other people-- CB, Rebecca, Ephraim, Orli, and Orly. The gingerbread also got eaten in school by Sara and Akiva. It was...it was kind of sad. I felt kind of sad, because it was so small and I wanted to share it with other people-- friends I made here. But it also was my 1-year aliyahniversary (and everyone else on my flight), which was...also weird.
I repeat..."How did I get here..."
On the upside, a lot of people didn't really get it until they saw pictures and said they wished they would have known what this was and come also. Next year!
"How did we get here? How the hell-pan left, close on the steeple of the church.
How did I get here, how the hell?
Christmas! Christmas eve, last year."
Last year I built a gingerbread castle with Sara and Heather and Yael, and then Vera, Moses, Talia, Matt, Laura, Esther, Yosef and Dylan came over and we built, decorated, and ate the gingerbread at my going-away party, because I wasn't going to be around for the New Year's party.
This year I built and ate a gingerbread house with other people-- CB, Rebecca, Ephraim, Orli, and Orly. The gingerbread also got eaten in school by Sara and Akiva. It was...it was kind of sad. I felt kind of sad, because it was so small and I wanted to share it with other people-- friends I made here. But it also was my 1-year aliyahniversary (and everyone else on my flight), which was...also weird.
I repeat..."How did I get here..."
On the upside, a lot of people didn't really get it until they saw pictures and said they wished they would have known what this was and come also. Next year!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Being in Hebrew
I touched on this briefly here, but it's gotten easier for me to be in Hebrew. To converse, to think, to formulate sentences. It's still easier in English (despite my, "לא משנה" answer when people ask which language I prefer. In most of those cases I've found it's easier to speak in Hebrew, because the person I'm talking to might understand English but does not speak it that well) overall, but I can switch between the languages easily, and I find my Hebrew sprinkled with English and my English sprinkled with Hebrew. This came up last week when I went to a family for Shabbos. They made aliyah about 17 years ago (give or take), her two youngest kids were born here (the older ones were about 5 and down when they moved), but all the kids are very Israeli. They all speak English with pretty good American accents, but they read much more comfortably in Hebrew. I was talking about how it is working in Hebrew and being surrounded by so much Hebrew, and the mom said that when she talks she has a hard time staying in one language-- if she's in a business meeting or on a business call in English, she has to work vary hard to not let a Hebrew word slip into her sentences, whereas she says her kids stay in one language when they speak. But at home her kids speak mostly Hebrew between themselves.
I've broken this down into a couple of categories: Working in Hebrew, doing official things (kupat cholim, banking, phone, etc.) in Hebrew, shopping in Hebrew, and dating in Hebrew.
Working in Hebrew:
Definitely harder in terms of the professional terminology, but it's gotten easier. I'm learning the words I need, and, like someone once told me-- most of it is conversational anyway. He was right. And especially working with kids, there are a lot of words that I'm picking up. When I talk with my-- not my supervisor, but the OT who gives my supervision, we speak in English. But when we are around the kids or with other therapists, we speak in Hebrew. When I talk with the other therapists and the teachers, we usually speak in Hebrew (with the exception of a couple of therapists and teachers). My reports are in Hebrew, but my session notes are in English. Meetings with the staff and parents are in Hebrew. I'm getting there; I need to be more patient with myself in that respect-- yes, I've been here a year; yes, this is my third year in a school system, BUT (but BUT here)-- I've only been in a professional environment in Hebrew for 3 months. And almost one of those was holidays, so it's barely that. And, yes, it's my third year as a school-based OT, but it took me about year to get used to the system in NYC, and then halfway through the second year I moved here. So...I need to be more patient with myself about this and give myself more of a chance to get acclimated to the system here and learn it.
MDA- Easily half in English and half in Hebrew. On the ambulances- depends on the staff, but equipment is usually in Hebrew. When I'm working with people who aren't so fluent in Hebrew, then we go to English. But when I teach I ALWAYS use the Hebrew words for equipment because that's what they need to know.
Doing official things (kupat cholim, banking, phone, etc.) in Hebrew:
These are most easily done, I find, in Hebrew. Kupat cholim- when dealing with the kupah itself I find that Hebrew is easier. When dealing with the doctors and nurses and techs- I usually speak in Hebrew. If the doctor speaks or understands English and I can't express myself well enough in Hebrew I speak in English (I prefer to go to English-speaking doctors for this reason, even though I'm usually fine in Hebrew). Banking- I found someone who speaks English. Much easier to do my banking in English, because also the systems are different and I found someone who is familiar with both the American and Israeli systems. Phone- I find that arguing in my accented Hebrew sometimes gets me further, but also-- my phone company doesn't seem to provide great service in English. So I use Hebrew.
Shopping in Hebrew:
It's all about the conversions. And learning the names of foods. Sizes- eh. But negotiation is a skill that must be done in Hebrew, preferably with a more Israeli accent than less, because many Israelis assume that if you speak English with an American accent you are a rich American. So...yeah. Hebrew accent it is for that.
Dating in Hebrew.
Hehe. Right. I find it easier to date someone who is bilingual, because sometimes I can express myself better in Hebrew-- the words fit better-- but I also need English. I couldn't date someone who only spoke Hebrew (aside from how he would communicate with my family, I need someone who speaks English). I went on a date with an Israeli and after the date he called me and said he didn't think it would work because of the different mentalities. I'm not quite sure what he meant, but I also know that I needed someone who spoke- not just read and wrote- English. I've been on a couple of dates in Hebrew, which were ok, but I prefer to date someone who also speaks English. Definitely more comfortable.
Maybe I'll revisit this in a few months and see if my comfort level in Hebrew has changed at all.
Chanukah in Israel
My first Chanukah as an Israeli. I didn't bring latkes and applesauce to work...because I didn't have work because I work in misrad hachinuch and have off for Chanukah. But...people here know what levivot are. The applesauce with them is less common, apparently.
I had sufganiyot-- I think the ones here were better than the ones in NY. There were so MANY flavors to choose from; the most common ones seemed to be jelly (strawberry) and ribat chalav (dulce de leche), but there were also chocolate and pistachio and vanilla cream-filled. There were others topped with sprinkles, chocolate flakes, chopped nuts, icing drizzles-- so many different kinds! And there were also mini ones, with fewer calories and less bad stuff for you. But...there were a lot of kinds. Yes.
In terms of chanukiyot (menorahs, for the Americans)-- most people use oil, but there were still many candle ones for sale. I had a hard time finding the pretty candles that Mom always got, but then I found two boxes in a random store near Ben Yehuda. And then the last night I saw them in the tachana merkazit in Jerusalem (note to self for next year).
It kind of felt like the holiday season...except it felt too early for Christmas-- it is too early, but the holiday season in the fall/winter to me means Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year's. I definitely miss the holiday season in NY (ok, more the vacation time), but I also had traditions with my friends for erev Christmas and New Year's. Erev Christmas was Gingerbread-- SaraShatz and I started building gingerbread creations on erev Christmas (because who cared how late we were up-- it was vacation the next day :)) and we would let it dry until New Year's Eve and eat it at the New Year's party/get-together thing. Because, again, who cared how late we were up-- it was vacation the next day.
I am continuing the tradition here, but slightly differently. I am making the gingerbread on the Thursday night before Christmas and having the eating party on the Thursday night before New Year's. Yeah...I miss Christmas and New Year's vacations. Yes, I got Chanukah, but I miss the one-day-vacations so much...Election Day, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving (ok, 2 days), etc. And then after winter break, there was President's Week-- I don't think I went 2 months without a break. Here I go straight until Purim, which is only 2 days anyway, and it's in the middle-end of March. So that's 14 straight weeks. Yipee...(don't I sound excited...). But anyway-- gingerbread making will be happening here, despite the lack of molasses; I will be using silan (date honey)- I found a company that is an ok substitute for molasses-- not great, but ok. It shall be interesting to see the spin on gingerbread here, because it's not so traditional at all here. Gingerbread doesn't exist so much here.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Reflections on making aliyah and looking into the future
A year and a half ago I posted this post about the future and what it holds. Part of it was about my childrens' future if I moved to Israel. What would their future be like, being drafted into the army here. I also mentioned another blog, A Soldier's Mother, written by a woman who made aliyah with her family about 17ish (?) years ago.
Today I saw this in her post:
"It bothers me that to live in this land, my children must know the uniform and the gun. My daughters may not serve in the army, but their husband or brother or nephew will at some point in the future. My sons will serve, as will their sons. To serve, if life remains as it has been for more than 60 years, means war."
So well phrased, so much of what I feel even though I'm not yet married and don't have children. My children will grow up seeing soldiers in uniform and men and women carrying guns as part of their daily life. And my children will, as she put it, "know the uniform and the gun" when their draft notices come and they, too, join the ranks of the IDF. I will encourage my daughters to serve in the army as well as I will my sons. I don't want there to be a need for my children to serve, and I know that my parents wouldn't want me to be in danger, just like I wouldn't want my children to be in danger...but they would be proud of me if I was in the army and did serve my country. When I was considering joining the American army, my parents weren't happy because they didn't want me to be in danger...but they would have been proud all the same. But I made the choice to move from somewhere that my children would not be drafted, and would not be asked to serve in the army to a place where...once they turn 18, when they're not even out of their teens and still...well, children...they're going to be asked to put on a uniform and learn how to use a gun. And not for pretend, for real. To be ready to fight in a war, if need be, and even to guard and defend the country in some capacity, even not in a declared war or operation. Was it fair what I did? I don't remember where I heard this, but someone said she made aliyah so her children don't have to (if you said it and read this blog, please let me know so I can credit you). I did...but was it-- will it-- be fair to them?
Something I've thought about but never said out loud, and I wonder if this place, this blog, being that I don't know who reads it, makes it almost easier to say it here-- I don't want to marry someone who didn't serve in the army for idealist reasons, didn't want to serve. If someone moved here when he was too old to serve-- fine. If he was exempted for medical reasons-- fine. But not to serve because you don't want to or idealist reasons...that bothers me. It's your country, too. I went on a date with someone who I've known for a few years and his brothers are in the army or about to go in, and I always assumed that he also served. And then he told me that he didn't. I'm not discussing his reasons here because they're not mine to discuss, but the army gave him an exemption and he did not serve. And that bothered me...you want to live here, be here, raise a family here...and yet you're not willing to serve? I don't want my husband to go off every year for a few weeks, but...that's going to be life here, and I don't think I'd want it any other way really, because it's part of living here and you have to take the good with the not-so-fun. When he has to go for miluim, I will help him pack, get up that morning, kiss him goodbye, and wait and count down until he gets back. And that will be the life I've chosen. Unless he doesn't do miluim for some reason.
Today I saw this in her post:
"It bothers me that to live in this land, my children must know the uniform and the gun. My daughters may not serve in the army, but their husband or brother or nephew will at some point in the future. My sons will serve, as will their sons. To serve, if life remains as it has been for more than 60 years, means war."
So well phrased, so much of what I feel even though I'm not yet married and don't have children. My children will grow up seeing soldiers in uniform and men and women carrying guns as part of their daily life. And my children will, as she put it, "know the uniform and the gun" when their draft notices come and they, too, join the ranks of the IDF. I will encourage my daughters to serve in the army as well as I will my sons. I don't want there to be a need for my children to serve, and I know that my parents wouldn't want me to be in danger, just like I wouldn't want my children to be in danger...but they would be proud of me if I was in the army and did serve my country. When I was considering joining the American army, my parents weren't happy because they didn't want me to be in danger...but they would have been proud all the same. But I made the choice to move from somewhere that my children would not be drafted, and would not be asked to serve in the army to a place where...once they turn 18, when they're not even out of their teens and still...well, children...they're going to be asked to put on a uniform and learn how to use a gun. And not for pretend, for real. To be ready to fight in a war, if need be, and even to guard and defend the country in some capacity, even not in a declared war or operation. Was it fair what I did? I don't remember where I heard this, but someone said she made aliyah so her children don't have to (if you said it and read this blog, please let me know so I can credit you). I did...but was it-- will it-- be fair to them?
Something I've thought about but never said out loud, and I wonder if this place, this blog, being that I don't know who reads it, makes it almost easier to say it here-- I don't want to marry someone who didn't serve in the army for idealist reasons, didn't want to serve. If someone moved here when he was too old to serve-- fine. If he was exempted for medical reasons-- fine. But not to serve because you don't want to or idealist reasons...that bothers me. It's your country, too. I went on a date with someone who I've known for a few years and his brothers are in the army or about to go in, and I always assumed that he also served. And then he told me that he didn't. I'm not discussing his reasons here because they're not mine to discuss, but the army gave him an exemption and he did not serve. And that bothered me...you want to live here, be here, raise a family here...and yet you're not willing to serve? I don't want my husband to go off every year for a few weeks, but...that's going to be life here, and I don't think I'd want it any other way really, because it's part of living here and you have to take the good with the not-so-fun. When he has to go for miluim, I will help him pack, get up that morning, kiss him goodbye, and wait and count down until he gets back. And that will be the life I've chosen. Unless he doesn't do miluim for some reason.
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.
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