It's a big mitzvah

Last night, I received my first phone solicitation. It began innocently enough with the phone ringing, Gabe answering, and his handing the phone over with the information "speaking in Hebrew." I took the phone, expecting something, anything but what transpired. There was a nice person on the other end, asking me if I've ever heard of Akim. I told her that Akim was familiar to me, which was true - In my head, I tried to remember exactly what they do and was it connected to something having to do with the disabled community.

She told me that it's all about connecting and assisting the special needs community, particularly those with mental retardation. She quickly (it's always fast here) told me about the help given to families with newborn babies, and how that help grown to encompass home care, respite services, voactional training and independent living (just to new name a few of the things that Akim does). Would I like to give and of course, I can put in on my credit card. I hamma hee for a few moments (which is what Akiva says when he's not sure what else to say). It's a "mitzvah g'dola/big" to give of course, she tells me. I tell her that I'm the parent of a retarded person myself and I know how important it is to support organizations like these - yes, would you like to support the Akiva Skop fund. I ask for her to send me something and get the usual, it costs money to send and don't you want to give tonight, it's a "mitzvah g'dola." I put her on hold and tell Ira that I can't say no to this nice Jewish phone lady and that I'll make a modest donation. I return to the phone, give her our info and thank her for her work of the evening. I let her know that even though my gift might be modest, that we also give abroad to other organizations that do similiar things. I hang up the phone and remember my father telling stories of the various tzedakah men who would show up outside his office at the shul in Malverne. He had regulars who stopped in, often for coffee, some for lunch (in those days, I can recall a very religious man who would come back to our house, he had already vetted it for kashrut on a previous visit, and allow my mother to heat him up a can of Rokeach veg soup, which he would eat with a piece of challah. This would never happen these days) and all came for a little help, a little tzedakah. I don't think my father ever sent off anyone empty handed. He kept his discretionary funds for these kinds of purposes - small, localized giving and he enjoyed the giving and the receiving - the interaction with all kinds of jews and non-jews who knew that the chief rabbi of Malverne was a generous one.

Free At Last

Have officially retired from Ulpan. Was threatening retirement for some time already and really, continued during the month of November because October was a short month - holidays and all. Then, the classes were reformed and reorganized. Ira, who graduated from Gimel into Daled with a 97 on his test (or something like that) suddenly ended up in my Hey/Vav class with the Gimelites and the graduated Daledites and whomever else wanted to be in our class. For the first week or so, it was really a mess as things sorted themselves out and as people figured out if they were in the right place. Meanwhile, those remaining Hey/Vavites were feeling that their hardwon victories with their teacher - we had convinced Tzippi that we wanted to read literature and we had started to do different things that were fun - were all for naught, as the pace of the class slowed to accomodate everyone. Ira, and his Gimelites, were coping alright but there was stress over the speed of certain things and that wasn't fun for them. One of his compatriots tried the new Gimel class again, but it was overcrowded and not the answer and the head of the Ulpan was unsympathetic to her plight. We all felt annoyed - why wasn't the Ulpan answering the needs of all the students and why had they cut out the Daled Class, when there were students who needed that level? They claimed not enough students and so forth but in the end, the students needs were not being met.

Things settled down, though. My teacher, Tzippi, would teach Sun-Tues and her classes ran in a similar style and pace to what we, the hey/vavniks, were fairly used to. That means many discussions of personal experiences, feminism, life, the world...you get the picture. We listened to the news, generally at a clip, but did parse out the topics and words. We read material - stories and plays and such, and worked it thru but again, at a fast pace. With Tzippi, it was all about her mood of the day and what she wanted to do and her reaction to the group. I'm pleased to report that she liked us, and in particular, I felt a strong connection to her. I'm trying to work up the oomph to call her and invite her over for coffee, as I feel that I could be friendly with her - lots in common and all that. Actually, I do have to call her up because we've planned a little get together at our place with a few graduates who've not been around and we'd all like to see and hear what they've been doing.

Wed-Thurs were taught by Ira's teacher, Ora. Ora is an excellent teacher - exacting, great for grammar and her hebrew is very clean and clear to listen to. Tzippi's was excellent as well but Ora is even clearer, perhaps because she more commonly teaches Gimel? I don't know. Ora is a dikduk/grammar wonk (just like Ira), in the best of ways, really, and she was going to take the class thru grammar exercises for two days each week. That meant no more movies on Thursdays, though, sigh. Tzippi did do the occasional movie on Tuesdays but it wasn't the same. By Thursday you need the movie more. Anyway, with Ora, we reviewed and reviewed Pee'el, Heef'eel, Hoof'al until it was coming out of my ears and you know what? I didn't care which one was Peh/Nun or Peh/Yud or Peh/Vav. Well, I appreciated what it meant and all that and I do care about using more sophisticated conjugations in my speech but ulimately, when you're standing in front of the mechanic or at the bank, you ain't thinking, now is it Peh/Van or Ka'fool? It wasn't Ora's fault, I was glad for review but we were just taking too much time with it and the exercises were excruciating. On the positive side, we did some excellent work with radio news and that was good. We had some good classroom discussions but it felt like the class had taken a different step. We would go to the listening room, always an exciting trip - I detested this. You sit with headphones and listen to some topic and answer questions. Now, we'd sit, with workbook and listen to an article/topic read so slowly, I could fall asleep in between words. What was the point of that? If the class was at different levels, why couldn't we listen to different levels? Ah well, it doesn't matter really, of course, just analyzing for your potential reading pleasure. When I went in to the Ulpan office to tell them I was finishing up, along with a whole bunch of my fellow hey/vavniks, I tried telling her that the Ulpan had done a disservice to us in combining all the classes and it was like it was revisionist history - she didn't understand, no longer remembered what she had done and why it might have been a problem.

So, I slogged on through Nov because ulimately, sitting in a classroom 5 days a week, using one's hebrew is valuable but I swear that once I get over my feeling of relief that I'm done (for the moment, at least. I have 2 months left coming to me by virtue of being a newbie), I will read the newspaper daily and I will listen to the news and I will read a book. Right now, I'm enjoying my freedom. Free at last. Free at last.

Daily Candy

Went to Tel Aviv today. Took cousin Karen and Jessica. Aim - walk, eat, shop and check out what's up in TA. Came down the hill and took off our jackets - the weather is just so much balmier. Got out in Neve Tzekek - a hip (of course), gentrified neighborhood that was, I believe, one of the first neighborhoods built outside Old Yaffo in the late '20's. It fell on hard times, then the artists moved in and then...of course, always follow the artists, it began to attract attention. Gradually buildings were restored, cafes appeared, artists married, babies were born, strollers on the streets, real estate prices throught the roof - you know the drill.

We sat in a cafe. Good bread, salads to dip and share - we dipped, we shared, we baked in the sun. Walked and investigated. Clothing is alot more interesting in TA where there is less of a desire to cater to the more provincial and conservative tastes of Jerusalemites. Good accessories, interesting fabrics, trendy cuts - fun was had by all. We sniffed out jewelry shops, walked thru the main plaza of the Suzanne Dalal Center -a local arts and performance place, and admired pottery, the local mishmash of architecture, ranging from what is generally called the "Eclectic Style," which accounts for much of TA architecture (that is to say, that which isn't Bauhaus and which isn't a takeoff on Bauhaus or what isn't just an ugly old concrete building), a mix of Europeanesque/Mediterannean looking buildings.

We got back into the car and went to a new, developing neighborhood that was vastly appealing called "Shechunat Khashmal" or something like that but it's late and I'm not going to check with Jess right now. Regardless, the name has the word khasmal in it from light as it was a neighborhood with lots of electricians - why? I don't remember but will let you know. It reminded me of Smith Street 10 years ago, when Refinery first appeared and Patois - when there were still rosary shops and old bodegas and the grit was still apparent. Sigh. We checked out some really great places - interesting costume jewelry, hip clothing, edgy accesories and finished up with some coffee. All good fodder for Jess and I and our in development business of apprising travelers and locals of where to shop and what to buy and most importantly, what to eat. We'll keep you posted.

We drove cousin Karen to my sister in law Barbara's office in Petach Tikva, hugged her and thanked her for coming and sent her to to the hands of my brother and sister for her final 30 hours of her trip. It was great to have her here.

Turkey Day

Thankgiving is, at it turns out, a two day yomtov here. Thursday is, a workday after all which means that any partying has to happen on the late side, as we will do tonight with Alan and Lisa at 7:00ish. Late because there's school tomorrow as well and dragging turkey laden children out of bed tomorrow won't be pretty. Then, there's Friday night, the perfect night to sit together and share Thanksgiving treats. We'll be doing that tomorrow night with my entire family who is converging on Jerusalem for a celebratory Shabbat in honor of my cousin Karen's arrival from NYC for Thanksgiving. You may wonder at someone choosing to celebrate here instead of the US but Karen and I have a long history of celebrating Thanksgivings together. From the time that my parents made Aliyah, in 1992, Ira and I and the boys, went to my Aunt Nora's house in Long Island and spent Thanksgiving day with my Aunt, my Uncle Meyer and my 3 cousins, of which Karen is one.

Aunt Nora and Uncle Meyer were fabulous hosts. Nothing was forgotten, all of one's needs were met and taken care of in the most caring and loving way. I always felt that it was the one day of the year where I thought about nothing. I did badger Aunt Nora into letting me bake a pie or something of that ilk but inevitably she'd hem and haw over what I should make and what her menu would be (as if it changed every year) and then, when I would bother her as Thanksgiving was coming closer, she'd inform me that she'd already baked and prepared most things and put them in the frezer. Her freezer was a treasure trove of special things. So, I'd come with a gift and maybe a baked treat and would content myself with washing dishes although even that was a fight as she and Meyer felt that dishes had to be handled with care - as if we weren't big enough to wash dishes.

We honored their memory with Aunt Nora's sweet potatoes this year. Gabe took control of the recipe and with my assistance on directions and flavoring agents, pureed the sweet potatoes until they were smooth as silk and when we served them, heated them until they would remove the roof of one's mouth, exactly as Aunt Nora served them. As for other dishes, it was a mixture of traditional and untradtional. Cranberries were specially imported in from America by Daniel, who brought a large bag for me, Jess and his sister, Miriam. Actually, you can find cranberries in Israel - frozen, with Russian labels, as they appear to be popular in the Russian community. Not sure if cranberries are grown in Russia or if they are like some other Russian fruit and therefore became a popular import.

But back to the two day holiday thing. Here we came to Israel to benefit from 1 day holidays on Sukkot, Pesach and Shavuot and Thankgsgiving became 2 days (because now we live in the Israeli diaspora - does this make sense?) and that's without any vacation time. Also, almost everyone in the American community does something to mark the moment. My brother, Jonathan, likes to do something on that day, or, as his wife Barbara says, he gets depressed. It can just be a family gig but he needs to remember the day. Usually, he and some friends have a Chanunkah/Thanksgiving celebration. Sister Sarah has a traditional, on Thursday night, dinner with a group of ladies that she's been buddies with for a long time - American women married to Israel men. They get together, eat, yap and the men watch sports, just like in America. She often has a second celebration with another group as well. Jess has hosted for years, a large gathering of her nearest and dearest, usually on Thanksgiving night, but this year, took the year off and went with Daniel to friends of the family. We wondered what to do and then Alan and Lisa called and we planned a meal with them. I can report to you that it was lovely but it felt different and I did miss some of my familiar people but we all enjoyed ourselves. Friday night we did it again with the ganze mishpocha/the whole family and it was fun but way too much food and way too many people.

So, there we have it. Lots of turkey in the Holy Land.

Sahlab Season

Ira and I went for a quick shuk shop this afternoon after Ulpan. I came into town by car to shop with him and shlep stuff home. Readers of this blog may note that I was not in Ulpan today. Wed and Thursdays are serious dikduk/grammar days, my least favorite subjects. While Ira enjoys the nitty gritty of hif'eel and hoof'al, I find it all a big yawn. That is, I started learning this stuff when in first grade and it's hard to go back to refiguring it all out at this point. I have learned some new finer points of conjugation and am happy about that but 2 days of it and they also spent time in the listening room, another "favorite" activity of mine. So, I left with Ira this morning but after he listened to me bitch and moan for 15 min on the way (we were walking), he encouraged me to go home and take the morning off and so I did. I napped, went for a swim and then came in to meet him.

Our mission - to figure out how to buy fresh fish and from which fish seller. Fresh fish is a big secret in this country. Some say you can only get fresh fish from certain places and only on Mondays and Tuesdays. Any other day, it's not fresh any longer and forget it. This flies in the face of reason. Israel has both fish farms and coastlines from which fish can be fished, not to mention flying in fish from other places. Also, there are good quality hotels and restaurants in this country that serve fish - surely they're getting fresh fish from somewhere.

Everyone agrees that David Dagim (dagim are fish) is the fishmonger of choice but still, I approached with care. We asked, what was fresh? He showed us salmon, butterfish (it looked like bass) and some smaller fish that looked like a flat sort of fish but fuller than trout. We said, really fresh? He said, yes. He said that they always have some fresh and some frozen. I've tried the frozen fish in this country and have not been happy. I miss Fishtales - even their prices. I asked him how fresh? He said, take a taste. I took a sniff and then a nibble. Fresh, delicious salmon and mind you, I am ordinarily a salmon snob in NY as all one ever eats and gets served is, salmon, as it seems the most innocuous to most. Anyway. We ordered 2 kilo of salmon for the princely sum of 100nis for a kilo. It is sitting in the fridge and awaiting its destiny tomorrow.

While our fish was being prepared, we ventured to some of our favorite stalls for a few things, too many things of course. Greens from the greens guy. Fruit from the fruit guy. Green beans are back in, so green beans. Boutique halvah from as my brother Jonathan calls it, the halvah guy. Fresh, squishy pitot and za'atar and paprika bread from the bread guy, altho I've been told that I have to seek out a different pita guy in the Iraqi section of the shuk for ultimate pitot. Next week. We stop to admire a little shul in the shuk - meaning, it was a stall but outfitted for khopping a quick daven. We notice the stall next door. Some mizrachi looking guys eating plates of ful/fava beans, sprinkled with what looks like cumin or hawaij (spice blend). We sniff and are offered a taste. We taste, which means that we picked beans off of this guy's plate (meaning a stranger) and are told to spit out the outer shell. Lovely but time consuming way of eating beans. We investigate what else they serve and notice a pot of steaming sahlab on the right. Sahlab season. Sahlab is a hot, milky drink, thickened with the ground bulb of the orchid, "Orchis mascula." It's also flavored with orange or rose flower water, which gives it it's particular taste, along with the orchid root. I looked it up and found out that it became a popular drink in 17th century England and was is said to be good for stomach irritations and gastrointestinal problems.

Here's a recipe found at the "Egyptian recipes page" of www.touregypt.net:
1.5 tablespoons sahlab powder mix or 2 tablespoons cornstarch
4 cups milk
3 tablespoons sugar, or to taste
2 teaspoons rose or orange-blossom water (optional)
2 tablespoons finely chopped pistachios
Ground cinnamon
Mix the powder or cornstarch with a few tablespoons of milk. Bring the remaining milk to a boil. Pour in the starch mixture, stirring vigorously, so that lumps do not form. Cook over very low heat, stirring continuously, until the milk thickens. This will take about 10 minutes. Then stir in the sugar and the rose water or orange blossom water. Serve in cups with the chopped pistachios and cinnamon as garnish. You can also sprinkle grated coconut on top.

Our server ladled it out for us and garnished it with cinnamon and coconut and we shared one cup while walking to the healthy bakery for some fresh bread and cookies. We headed back to the car and Ira said, "We didn't get any treats to eat for lunch," and I said, "No, but we had sahlab." Ah.

Meanwhile, did some Shabbat cooking - veggie, pot pies (new recipe but looks good), green beans, veg minestrone without the beans to make Gabe happy but what's the point really? We even have Shabbat day guests coming - young couple from Ulpan and Ira's cousin Eric with his wife, Liat and their twin 3 year old daughters and Jessica (Daniel is in the states traveling). Should be nice.

Shabbat Shalom.

Politics Shmolitics

One could/can be driven crazy by the news here. One can also be driven to extremes to avoid the news, the sound of the news - the beep, beep, please pay attention to the news on the radio hourly, the talk of the news and of course, the news itself. There is too much news. There is too much news because of where we are in the world. That is to say, surrounded by our best buddies in Gaza, in Lebanon, in Syria, not to mention Iran and that doesn't minimize Jordan and Egypt and Iraq but suffice to say, not foremost on the list.

Then, there's the endless analysis of Israel's relationship with the US, the recent elections, the Bush White House, the new Senate and Congress, Condaleeza Rice and whomever else is topical Stateside. We also have Europe with which to busy ourselves - Tony Blair and the BBC's current invective on Israel's situation, our best buddies in France and now, with Olmert's recent trip to Russia, Putin weighing in on things. Every comment, every quote, must be considered, quoted, talked about and opined about.

This week marked the GA - General Assembly ( grand Jewish convention of all the big mucky mucks in US for those not familiar) in LA. I heard more about the GA then I have ever heard about in my life. Who was going from here, when they were speaking, what they would speak about, what they spoke about in great depth and finally, that their luggage had been lost and that they would have to arrive at the GA without their stuff for at least a day.

We have the constant moaning and groaning about the state of the government. I'm talking government officials - corruption, financial misconduct, sexual harrassment, abuse of power. I can't stand hearing any more about Ramon's kiss - did he use tongue, did he take her number first, was the wiretap illegal. Then, we have Katzav - whom didn't he harrass sexually over the years? His mother may not believe that he did anything and his wife is standing by him proudly, I've heard that before. Olmert is known to be a wheeler dealer and has a few questionable real estate deals that are being investigated - at least it appears, so far, that he's kept his pants zipped over the years. Now we have new ministers - Lieberman, a Russian, a bigot but maybe an equalizing influence for the more that million Russians who vote in this country and maybe Barak, returning to a ministry post. It's fascinating that new ministers can just come in, even if they are in a different party than orignally elected in by the public. Very different then what I have been accustomed.

And I've left out reading the papers. One can read the J'lem Post, which is like reading the New York Post - conservative, right wing, generally always sides on the right. Or, one can read Ha'aretz, for their unrelievedly liberal, left wing reading of the situation. One can also read Ma'ariv and Yed'i'yot for their more middle of the road views, althought generally to the right of Ha'aretz, not that that takes much. I find myself siding with Ha'aretz, because I'm not content with the way things are being conducted militarily of late but that's something I can describe at another time. Suffice to say that I don't feel that the current military and gov't leadership has been very smart in how they've been conducting themselves with our enemies and say what we will about having the right to defend ourselves, that doesn't give us some sort of higher moral ground to stand on when civilians lives, homes and livelihoods are destroyed. Ultimately, that's what people remember and that's all they really care about - home, food, family, safety. Oh well, we'll let that alone.

I know many people who avoid the news, don't listen to the radio and only read selections of the paper. I find myself reading the paper and trying to understand the currents that run through the country. Hard to say if I'll sustain that or find it too much as well. Certainly, it's interesting learning a new country's method of governance, what they like to talk and report about and how the regular Joe on the street responds. I miss the New York Times - just the feeling of it and the notion of holding it, folding it, sniffing that inky smell. I'm reminded of an essay by Tom Wolfe from his book, The Painted Word, about reading the New York Times.

"PEOPLE DON'T READ the morning newspaper, Marshall McLuhan once said, they slip into it like a warm bath. Too true, Marshall! Imagine being in New York City on the morning of Sunday, April 28, 1974, like I was, slipping into that great public bath, that vat, that spa, that regional physiotherapy tank, that White Sulphur Springs, that Marienbad, that Ganges, that River Jordan for a million souls which is the Sunday New York Times."

Isn't that a great quote? Well, reading the J'lem Post and Herald Tribune don't quite come close to that experience but hey, it's better than the Oregonian (with apologies to friends in Portland).

Middle Israel

This weekend we went to visit Israel, the real Israel that is. It's all well and good to live in Jerusalem and indeed it feels much like Israel, and certainly on most days, quite enough of Israel for me. But, driving up K'vish Shesh/Road 6, heading North, I looked around and noted the difference as soon as we descended the mountain.

First of all, the weather is immediately different. Jerusalem is hilly, and is surrounded by the other J'lem hills. It's rocky all around you (well, most of the country is rocky) and the weather while lovely, is cool, especially in the mornings and evenings. There is that much vaunted breeze that Ira so loves to talk about, especially in the summer. Indeed, today in Ulpan we read a great story by Shai Agnon (famous Israeli fiction writer of 20thC, who lived and wrote in Talpiyot, right near us and in fact, a shul that is named for him is right up the way) where he says, "there is nowhere in the land (of Israel) with a wind/breeze like in Talpiyot." A great story and a great writer, by the way, very humorous and very inventive use of language. Even in translation, I'm sure alot of his humour will come through. I digress.

You head down the mountain, down into the valley - we drive on the Begin Highway out of town and exit the city at at northern point as opposed to Route 1, the main entrance/exit which is at the western edge of the city (we live south). We head out from Begin onto 443, which cuts through the West Bank, passing various small Arab villages and eventually close to Ramallah. We pass the fence - modest in some locations and tall and imposing and unattractive in other spots. We reach 444 right arount Mod'iin, a cluster of towns on the busy J'lem-Tel Aviv corridor that are growing daily. I believe that there are presently 60k people in Mod'iin but they're planning for 200,000k people within the next 5-10 years and everywhere there is construction - roads, buildings, gas stations. Mod'iin is within easy commuting reach to Tel Aviv and to J'lem which partly explains in popularity. We have friends that live in Lapid, one of the yishuvim in the Mod'iin area and while they agree that it's a backwater for the moment, like the quiet, the commuting ease (he works in J'lem and she in Petach Tikva), the lovely Reform shul in their area and the decent schools they found for both of their kids. Ira's accountant is in Mod'iin and Ira finds Mod'iin scarily hard to figure out in the car - everything built in a hidden cul de sac it seams, no visible coffee shops and stores for a quick bite unless you know your way to the local mall.

We continue on our way to Route 6, which comes up shortly after our turn onto 444. It's a lovely road, wide and pleasant to drive on - Israel's first toll road. It came with major fights and it's hard to drive it and not reflect on the fact that it cuts through beautiful land that many environmental groups thought should not have been developed. Nonetheless, it quickly cuts through past sister Sarah's town of Rosh Ha'ayin and Petach Tikvah, and Shoham (where Arielle Blumenthal lives, I think). The land is flat, things smell agricultural through the windows. We see clementine trees, avocado trees as we gaze upon land sown by a few of the local kibbutzim that we pass by. Olive trees, my favorite tree - gnarly and nasty. We drive past the exits for Ra'a'nana and K'far Saba and then it's on to Kochav Yair, where my brother, Jonathan and sister-in-law, Barbara live.

We have arrived in Israel. Although, Kochav Yair has the requisite amount of English speakers, it is most definitely an Israeli town, a Hebrew speaking town. When you go to shul, people speak hebrew to each other. When you walk in the street, you hear hebrew. Shocking, really, for us townies from J'lem. The town feels different in so many ways from our life in J'lem. It's smaller, more provincial in style. Small town center - cafe, pizza, felafel, small grocery store with silly name, great swimming pool (ok, but it's a well to do town), school.

Still, we had our own english speaking shabbat with Barbara and Jonathan. Arrival heralded by Barbara standing by the stovetop as she is wont to do on Friday. She stands, barks orders as needed, cooks, talks, laughs and drinks beer. We all drink beer, taste the poppyseed cake that I found by chance at a bakery in J'lem. Very good. About 2 inches of poppyseeds with just a light bottom and top crust. Shul on Friday night and then home for a lovely meal with your basics of chicken and rice (Akiva has come to expect that when he sits at anyone's table other than his own of Friday night that he should receive chicken and rice), assorted pickled salads, lentil/potato stew, I can't remember what else and excellent biscotti with tea for dessert. Scotch. Bed, as soon as Akiva was settled down.

Morning in Middle Israel. Sunny, warm and lovely. It's dreadfully hot at their house in the summer but in the fall, it's downright great. We all wear summer clothing - why not when you still can but at least the weather allows for a light sweater as summer clothing gets boring after a while. Shul late for me and Akiva. Home by 11:00am, I think and kiddush time - herring, chips, nuts, humous, crackers, scotch with which to wash it down. Naptime/playtime for all. I sit outside, moving my chair around to catch the sun as it shifts. Akiva alternates between bothering people, playing pool on Uncle J's "special pool table," and reading his books. Lunch finally comes together around 3:00pm. We are all relaxed and actually hungry. More good things to eat and brownies for dessert. I made an excellent mushroom strudel for lunch. Everyone likes it. We nap a bit again - that is, those who didn't nap during the first naptime. Shabbat is over at 5:20 or so, yea! More food prep as the past weekend marked the 21st birthday of J&B's oldest, Dena. Rather shocking, really. Ira and I were first getting friendly in a boy/girl fashion around this time 21 years ago. I remember telling him that Dena was born and we both remember that in mid December that year, my parents and Jess, who was 16 I think, went off to Israel for a couple of weeks to see the new grandchild and I stayed at home - classes and work and my mother said to Ira, "Take care of Beth while we're gone." He did a good job.
Anyway, Sarah and Michael, Noam and Benjy and Michael's mom, Lillian, come on by at around 7:30pm. We attempt to eat once again - salad, jachnun (yemenite bread), rice pudding, cheesecake and upside down apple cake. We sing Happy Birthday and Akiva is pleased and Dena, all dressed up for a night out on the town with friends, prances around in an out suitable for a 21 year old. Ah, to be 21 again. Actually, don't want to be but enjoyed watching her.

We drive home and talk about how we're glad that we chose to live in J'lem, even if it's not Middle Israel. We climb the hill and look at the lights twinkling as we approach, glad to be home.

News

The news really is all encompassing here. We listen to the news in the morning, and often a few times during the day on the radio. You figure that if you listen to it enough times, it might begin to sink in. There are certain words that the radio newspeople like to use and you need to learn them, like the newspaper terminology commonly used. Problem is that the announcers are so fast that you just can't get it on one round. Thankfully, there are the headlines and then they're followed by the "full" report - you know, "you give us 22 minutes, we'll give you the world." Actually, Israel makes no bones about the world. On your basic radio report, it's only about the news here. You need the TV show in the evening on the main channel to get a feeling for the world or by reading the newspaper. It's not the Israel is only focussed on itself but when it comes to regular news reports, it takes alot, like no news locally, to bring up the rest of the world and there are rare days of no local news. Remember, we have local unrest, the Gaza Strip, financial improprieties of various ministers and heads of state and currently, sexual improprieties of various ministers and heads of state, and if that weren't enough, we have the ongoing investigations of improprieties concerning the running of the recent war in Lebanon.

Today, I had myself a shock, as on Galei Tzahal, the army radio station, they talked about today's elections in the US and gave a sound bite of Dubya. I almost fell over. I haven't heard his loose, Texan drawl in months - I almost felt wistful and then remembered how I generally feel about Bush. Not to discuss politics but it was a funny moment. The other overdiscussed topic of the moment is the scheduling of the Gay Pride parade in J'lem. Religious people rioting in the streets, injuring policemen and reporters alike. As my teacher said, you have to wonder where all this violence or desire to resort to violence in order to protest their point of view comes from in the religious communities. I understand the need to discuss the issue - well, I might not totally understand the need but that's a sep matter, suffice to say that it's not an easy city to be gay and lesbian - but to create such a moment for rallies and fighting, that I don't understand. There are bigger problems in the country, in the world. Hale'vye/If only this was our biggest problem here. Anyway, it looks like the discussions have resulted in some agreement btw the religious community and the police and the gay community but the end result doesn't impress me that much - you can read up on it if you're interested and at least some semblance of democracy and free speach will prevail. Actually, we all think that all the commentary on the parade has at least given the public a breather from the nastiness of Katzav's potential indictment on sexual harassment and possibly rape.

There is alot of interest in the mid-term elections in the US today and I imagine there will be appropriate reports tomorrow. I'll keep you posted.

Crembo Season

It's Crembo season. Ah, you say - what's a Crembo? A Crembo is sort of an Israeli take on a Charlotte-Russe. What's a Charlotte-Russe all those under 35 may ask? A Charlotte-Russe was a special bakery treat that my mother loved and if I'm not mistaken, the last bakery that I knew of that still sold the confection was Itzkowitz (I think that's the name) on Ave J and 12th (or maybe 13th - Barbara M, help me out on this one). Anyway, it was round, and wrapped in white cardboard (my mother says this was critical for maintaining shape) with a scalloped edge (it seemed such a cunning design to me) and had a base of sponge cake and then it was filled in with whipped cream and it had, in those pre red dye #40 days, a marischino cherry on top. It was real whipped cream I imagine, altho I'm sure that many modern day CR's are pareve whipped cream but what can you do. A Crembo has a soft cookie base that is nothing special really, and then the rest of it is a large, fluffy, mound of marshmallow like filling - the whole thing is coated in chocolate. In them thar days, Israelis didn't eat ice cream in the winter - meaning, no ice cream as in nada. I remember that sister Sarah once, while living on Kibbutz Eyn Tzurim, went down to the Kibbutz shop sometime after Sukkot was over to get herself an ice cream and was told, "K'far Ho'ref," or it's already winter. Over the last 25 years, Israelis have gotten into the habit of eating ice cream all year round but for many it is still a summer treat, regardless of the fact that the weather is still quite ice cream worthy for a good part of the fall/winter season.

My first Crembo of memory was with my sister-in-law, Barbara. She was deeply excited by them and still is, as is my mother, and she purchased the treat for the two of us and watched me unwrap and eat it with great pleasure. I remain unimpressed by Crembo's but like their seasonal nature. They're not available in the summer for the obvious reason - they'd melt too easily. I actually think I ate my first Crembo with Barbara when she was pregnant with Dina and that was a summer visit but I must be mistaken because they're not usually sold that time of the year. Maybe then, you could find the occasional hidden supply of them, even the summer. I'll have to ask Barbara if she remembers.

Before posting this, I'll have you know I checked with my mom to make sure I had all Charlotte Russe facts correct. But you never know...

Ulpan Report

The other day, just to wake us up a bit in class, the teacher read from an op ed in Ha'aretz recently about the furor over the gay pride parade in J'lem which is scheduled for next Friday. The writer wrote with a slant towards having the parade - that there was no disrespect towards Jerusalem, that the parade would be conducted with decorum and respect for the city and for the large religious population that inhabits it. He added that the parade should be allowed out of respect for free speech and the fact that the courts have ordered it to be conducted in the past and that the marchers should receive the proper police support and protection necessary to make sure that no marchers get injured by religious demonstrators (I believe 4 marchers were stabbed by an ultra-religous protester the last time the march was held in 2004).

The teacher, Ora, then said, "what do you think about this?" First to speak was an religous, head covering Jewish woman who commented that she felt that gays in Israel could march wherever they wanted in the country, why did they have to march in Jerusalem?" She added at one point that even though the marchers only march thru non-religious neighborhoods, that in the end they end up near religious neighborhoods and that she herself was privy to the most recent march a year or so ago and that it was not decorous and respectful as the writer indicated it would be. Pandemonium in the class. There were the dissenters - mostly big city American types like myself and a couple on the other side who hail from Seattle and LA, respectively. There was the Russian guy, who wondered why it has to happen in J'lem - gays have the whole world, can't they just mind their own business and stay out of J'lem, the other Russian guy, who didn't at first catch on to the meaning of the title gay pride parade in hebrew. Once apprised of the topic, he felt everyone should take a deep breath and relax. I asked him where do gay people congregate in Russia? Moscow, he said. The other guy, as it turns out, is from St Petersburg which has a less openly gay population. What was the most interesting thing about the discussion was who didn't say anything, the fact that if anyone in class was gay now was not the time to announce it, and the fact that as Ira mentioned to me, this would never be brought up in this way in NY. I brought this up. I said that in NYC it would be absolutely politically incorrect to talk about, that a whiff of anti-homosexual thoughts would have you branded an unacceptable human being and that the fact that the hebrew word for a gays is "homo'eem," which is postively wierd for me to say. There were definitely other religious types in the class who didn't say anything and the one Arab guy wasn't there that day and he probably wouldn't have been comfortable with the discussion and I was ready to duke it out with the religious woman but ultimately, we all agreed that the furor seemed to be before the parade and that in the end, people would cope if there was a parade and that funniest result of all of the tumult was that all the local religious leaders came together - jew, arab and christian to protest the one thing that they could all agree about.

Friday Shopping

Boys went for a school Shabbaton - weekend together with classmates. This involved a Friday morning hike in trad'l Israeli fashion and then off to simple innlike place for togetherness and spirituality, both things that the boys were disinterested in. Nonetheless, the packed up their things and went. Given that they were both gone, we decided to indulge Akiva's carniverous inclinations, the fact that my new chirpractor said that I needed some more animal protein in my diet and the fact that Ira is always looking for an opportunity to eat a good meatball and we went off to try a new takeout place in Emek Refaim.

Coffee first at Aroma - read the paper, ate a good breakfast sandwich, listened idly to the coversation of the varous couples on either side and when the cigarette smoke got too strong for us, left to do our errands. Purchased the Jerusalem Post Friday Edition - it is critical to get both Ha'aretz/Herald Tribune and JPost on Fridays. Lots of sections to read and the all important In Jerusalem in the Post which details local events and has articles concerning J'lem. Not like "Talk of the Town" but we take what we can get. Monday's JPost is also important as it has good portions of the Times's Week in Review reprinted. Also bought Yedioyot Achronot, which is an absolute rag but at least is readable for us newbies who struggle with the newspaper. Both Ira and I notice that we're no longer so shocked by the fact that the newspapers are all in hebrew. This may sound stupid to some but you know, it's surprising. What's also interesting is that I can read the hebrew faster - my hebrew was always good but I find that I register the language faster in terms of street signs and advertisements and newspaper headlines. I may not know instantly what it means but I take in the language more automatically, like the way I do in english.

Back to Friday. Headed to Ma'a'da'nei Tzid'ki'yahu for some Shabbat specialties that we've grown to like - excellent veg liver that's zucchini based with lots of onions, great bread that comes from a local baker, pickled cabbage (we've been perfecting a new recipe at home based on their most delightful cabbage with dill), and excellent smoked salmon (not lox mind you but more like gravlax with a definitely smoky quality - I mean Iris's is better but one has to make do), and a good hunk of aged goat cheese. With these delicacies in hand, we next headed around to the takeout guy around the corner that had come well recommended. It immediately became apparent that we had made a huge mistake showing up with our Tzidkiyahu bags in tow. We walked around eyeing the choices - spiced fish dishes, chicken in various styles (roasted, sauteed with veggies in an obvious attempt to modernize their recipes), meat in all styes of chop, stewed and stuffed - when I mean stuffed, I mean stuffed. Stuffed cabbage, stuffed grape leaves, stuffed peppers, stuffed zucchinis....you get the picture. Then there are the fried things - fried veg cakes, kubbe (bulgar torpedos stuffed with meat), cigars and other filo pastries stuffed with meat, potatoe cakes stuffed with chopped, seasoned meat, and soup kubbed which is more like a soft dough stuffed with meat that's put in chicken soup. Then, there are the salads in the fridge case along with the soups - cabbage slaws, red salads including spicy turkish salad and more piquant matbucha salad, chopped and seasoned pepper salads and of course, humus, tuna salad (this is a specialty with all sorts of chopped veggies inc pickles that I happen to like) and veg and real, chopped chicken liver. There are kugelike things called pash'ti'dot which look like veg kugels but taste more like veg potato niks if you know what that is. Anway, there we are with our Tzidkiyahu bags and someone says - turns out it's the owner, "what, you went and bought salads there?" "don't you know they make their stuff in a factory?" "everything we sell, we make right here," "taste," he says, breaking a cauliflower pancake in half and handing it over to the two of us. "Good?" he says, "right?" I answer that this is our first time here and he came recommended and what can I say but now I know better. Unconvinced, he urges us to follow him into the kitchen in the back. Well, now you're talking I think to myself. We follow him. Biggish space by Israeli standards, big pots with piles of stuff being sauteed by cooks standing by. He shows us - filling for his different kubbes and other salads being made in the back. I think to myself, he must do this constantly. He takes up back into the store and demands to know WHAT we bought at Tzidkiyhu that could compare with his store. I venture to tell him that we bought some coleslaw - "coleslaw! mine is fresher and better." He reaches into the fridge and grabs a container of coleslaw - please understand that I find colesaw indigestible under most circumstances except for Tzidkiyahu pickled slaw and even then, I eat it gingerly - and then, grabs a plastic fork. He stabs in and forks up a big pile of mayo styled slaw and shoves it toward my mouth. I take the fork, open mouth and chew obediently, remarking that it's just fab, thinking it's ok but it's still slaw. He goes on about the fact that the mayo is at the bottom. Ira and I assume that this is either testifying to it's home madeness, it's lower fatness or something else perhaps. He then returns the container to the fridge, minus my bite and that was hilarious to me but that's Israel. We order a nice selection - some plain chicken for Akiva, rice and lentils, 2 pieces of stuffed cabbage for Ira, some meatballs and some sauteed chicken livers with onions for both of us and chickpeas nicely cooked in a paprika/tomato sauce. End result - it was good but so far, we like the place on DBL - Derekh Beit Lechem, near Jess's old place more but to be fair, the food was fresh and good and not heavily salted or oiled or overly seasoned and all tasting the same. We'd go back and try again, but needless to say, leave the Tzidkiyahu bags in the car. Tzidiyahu may have a factory and be a bigger operation but it's a small country and none of the food is traveling that far - it's fresh and good and they really know their neighborhood. I had a long chat with a guy at the Emek Refaim Tzidkiyahu about the diff in their food at that location and at their location in the shuk which I prefer more as the food is a bit more Sephardic/Mizrachi in style - spicier and peppier.

We toss everything in the car, head for home, pick up Akiva and make a run for the pool. Ahh...Fridays in J'lem.

Who's Afraid of International Calls?

Remember when the phone rang and it was an overseas call? Maybe you don't have those memories but I can recall the summer when my father was on USY Pilgrimage as a madrich/counselor. He probably called once or twice to my poor beleaguered mother back in the US. Actually, we had a great summer. Originally the plan was for Jonathan and Sarah to go to camp - Cejwin, I believe, and I was to be shipped off to my Grandma Rena in Far Rockaway for the 6 weeks. This way, my mother would go with my father. It was 1967 and I was 5. My Mother informed my Grandmother that I was an easy customer - "Just give her peanut butter and jelly daily and she'll be happy." My Grandmother's reply? "I'll change that." My Mother decided that it wasn't worth the fight that would have broken out between the two of us - me and Grandma, that is. Instead, we all went with my mother to Far Rockaway. An apartment was available above my Grandmother and Grandfather's and we camped out in the upstairs apartment with borrowed cots and ate our meals at Grandma's house. We went to the beach every day and I started learning how to ride a 2 wheeler, courtesty of a local kid who had the most cunning mini bicycle. My other major memory of the summer is a food product called "Shake a Pudding." You mixed, shook for a long time (but it felt like it was instant pudding), then chilled for a while and voila! Instant but not really pudding.

My first trip to Israel was with my family in 1970. I'm sure that the very modest apt that we rented that summer in Kiryat Ha'yovel in Jerusalem didn't have a phone and I imagine that my parents didn't make overseas calls that summer - they probably wrote letters. My second trip to Israel was when I was 20. It was 1982 and I had just graduated from college. I worked on USY Pilgrimage as a counselor (just like my father had in '67) and then stayed on for the year. I called them for the first time about 8 weeks into the summer. In them thar days, you had to go to a calling center (if you didn't have access to another phone). You paid a certain amount in advance for your call and then waited to be told when it was your turn. Then, you'd go into a phone booth and the international operator would be waiting to connect you to your people. When the money was up, so was the call - it was always rather abrupt. Of course, there was, and still is, the time difference and that added a romantic and unexpected quality to those calls. You hoped you were reaching your party at the right time but it always seemed that whenever you wanted to call them, they were sleeping. Why were they always sleeping? In 1982/3, I was here for the year after college doing volunteer work (I highly recommend this to all those with children finishing high school and college - volunteerism is great). We didn't have our own phone - still a precious commodity for most. You had to buy these phone tokens - aseemonim (who still has a few saved?) - you plunked in a bunch (again, hoping that you had enough for a long distance call, not overseas, mind, long distance like T'zfat to Jerusalem), dialled your number and talked, listening to the aseemonim click as the time ticked by. Again, when they were done, you were cut off - no warning. It was always a little stressful but part of the game. International calls could be made from phone booths but required alot of patience and redialing and generally you were calling collect (which parents love so much) as you couldn't possibly collect enough aseemonim for an overseas call. You wrote letters, strange as that seems. Last year, while cleaning up and organizing for the move here, we came across Ira's letters to his Mother, and hers to him, when he came on a Ramah Seminar to Israel, when he was 17. Letters were so wonderful to receive when you were far away and although I'm not the best letter writer, or was not the best letter writer as in gen'l I'm a better emailer, I loved and still love receiving mail. It's so romantic - the letter, the stationary, opening it, sniffing the glue, rustling the papers, deciphering the handwriting. Things just aren't like that anymore with instant messaging and such.

Needless to say, when cellphones were first developed, Israelis were immediately enamored. By this point, one could get a home phone with ease, of course, and gone were the days of year long waits for getting a phone hooked up in one's apt. Yet, nobody had forgotten how hard it had been to be in touch in those not so distant days. I can recall back in the early days of the cellphones, sometime in the mid to late 90's, coming to Israel on a trip and visiting the big J'lem mall and EVERYONE, down to the little kids, had a phone. Maybe it's the Jewish mother thing and needing to let everyone know that you made it from point A to point B intact or maybe it's the love of technology that every Israel seems to be bred with. Either way, phones are everywhere and what's more, they work everywhere. It is unheard of to have dead spaces or blocks the way they occur in NYC all the time. Every so often, one loses a call and it's quite traumatic as you forget that it used to happen all the time. Cellphone politeness? Now that's a horse of different color but we won't discuss that at this juncture.

When my brother Jonathan and sister in law, Barbara, first moved to Israel in 1983, calls were really expensive. It was tough to be in touch and our phone bills were easily $100 more than most people I knew on an average basis. Sarah and Michael moved in 1985 and that didn't improve matters. Also, it was tremendously expensive to call from Israel, so they waited for us to call, leaving the financial burden on us. It was cheaper from the States but it wasn't like they were giving it away. My parents came to Israel in 1992 and things were getting better by that point - we all called each other at least bi-weekly and calling from Israel while not cheap wasn't as prohibitively expensive. During the 90's, Ralph and Lisa went to France. While we didn't talk a ton on the phone, it was fun to have another foreign location to call and certainly, I wasn't afraid of the process - it's just a bunch of numbers, other than that, it's a phone call. Ira travelled to London a few times during those years and by the time Jess came to Israel in 1995, I was accustomed to calling Israel at least once a week, if not more. Jess and I would talk all the time - we both needed it and why not? Knowing the nitty gritty of each other's lives was essential to both of us. If I needed a recipe, I could call Sarah and if I needed to talk and laugh, I could call Barbara, financial help, Jonathan and folk dancing steps, Michael. My parents would call to talk to the boys and hear about what we were doing. The cellphone just perfected the situation. In some ways it drove me crazy but my family could find me anywhere, anytime and they did - they called me when they were on the road, when they were together as a group or going or coming from a family event. They called me when I was on vacation and one memorable time, my phone rang while skiing down a run at Killington. It was Jess - she wished me good skiing and we hung up.

Ira and I are awash in long distance calling plans. We have a Bezeq line (regular phone service) and then we have cellphones (Ira and I and the boys). We have 012 service for long distance calls and Skype in and out for calls that can be received at the computer - this is great, stop hesitating and download Skype already. You can Skype from your computer (all you need is a mike and headset - just ask Mike Shelanski for instructions) and then, if you open an account, you can call a landline from your computer for literally cents per minute. We called Aunt Jo and Uncle Charlie today - Akiva was particularly in the mood and it was Sunday so we could catch them easily in the morning waking up - and talked for 30 minutes or so and it cost, 60 cents, I think? We may still do a Vonnage line or VOIP line so that all of you wusses who are still nervous about calling overseas, can have the pleasure of calling us via a 646 line - just like in NYC but haven't done it yet. Either way, getting decent long distance service and prices on calling is just so easy. Actually, my last few months in the States, I even had long distance service to Israel from my cellphone which didn't cost too much a minute. Certainly, it was fine for shorter calls and to check in on my folks especially.

Of course, nothing is as fun as Google talk or Skype on the computer because the voices come thru as if the person is sitting with you in the room and if you hook up a webcam, you can even pick your noses together or check out new purchases. I like these methods the most because of the magical quality of them. Even more so than phones, they seem rather mysterious and unexplainable to those of us who are more technologically challenged. Even my mother has Skyped, although she confesses, she felt a bit like she did when she first gazed on a TV set - "where's the little man inside the machine?"
Looking forward to hearing from you.

War?

Last Friday night, we ate Shabbat dinner at Alan and Lisa's. Caleb, who is famous for his Calebism's - expressions of a certaintude and charm that often floor the listener - looked over at Natan and said, "You know, you are going to the war?" Natan, after a brief, digestive pause, said, "yes." Caleb seemed pleased, and responded, "So am I." End of discussion.

Natan actually had his first experience with the notion of the army. They had to fill out some sort of questionaire back at the beginning of the year. As well, a good friend of his, who turns 17 this January (6 months before Natan), received her "Tzav Rishon," essentially, her first call. All through 11th and 12th grade, kids have to show up at different times at the local army office for the beginning of their evaluation for readyiness for the army. They won't be called until they're 18 but they need to be assessed according to physical condition and strength, special skills and general wellness socially and emotionally. Our attitude at present has been not to dwell on these matters. I tell Natan that we can't worry about this as we have bigger fish to fry right now in terms of language and getting used to Israel. It helps that Natan has his cousins to talk to about these things as well as it gets closer. Leut. Dena, as my father likes to call her, is getting out in November. She's had a good experience working in educational programming related to the Israeli gadna program which is a weeks' trial of the army, usually in 12th grade. Benjy, is a driver to the Briagdier Gen'l in charge of the West Bank. He meets many interesting people, quite high up in the army command and overall is finding the experience interesting. Adam, Dena's younger brother, goes in in March. He's heading into an elite combat unit in the Paratrooper's brigade - kind of scary. Elisheva, Benjy's younger sister, will be going in in December, to the Press Relations Dep't, a plum opportunity that she's very excited about.

Suffice to say that as liberal, pacifist, left-wing politically, Jew from NY, I am somewhat bemused by the notion of my kid in the army. I actually think that service to one's country - be it any kind of service, is an excellent notion and that most teens of today, don't ever get a chance to consider how they can give back to society or serve society as they head from high school to college and from college to grad school and from grad school to the great big corporate world. It can take a person many years into their working adulthood to suddenly realize that they need to be involved in something else, something worthwhile and differently usefull than making a living. But, living here, oh, how many miles from Lebanon, Syria and Iran, one recognizes that a standing army is a useful thing. While I wish that the world was less combative and that people actually cared about something as mundane as peace on earth and goodwill to all humankind, reality tells us otherwise. We'll have to see as this thing plays out with Natan, how he deals with the idea of army and hope that he'll find the right kind of work that is suited to both his abilities and sensibilities as a new immigrant.

Big Sky Country

It has occurred to me that I live in big sky country. I mean, it's not Montana and I've never been to Montana but I understand the notion. Once in Brooklyn, for those who may remember, they tore down the municipal parking lot at the corner of Court and Atlantic (before they built the building where the Y is). I recall walking past there and standing there dumbfoundedly because I couldn't believe the vast amount of sky that had been revealed once the debris of the building was cleared away. For a few brief weeks, Cobble Hill was big sky country and I would make sure to pass by frequently during the week so that I could take in the space and the sky. In Jerusalem, for all the density and crowding, despite the dust and the mess, there is this blue sky to admire - every day (clouds notwithstanding). The skyline is barely a skyline by big city standards - a few tall buildings break through in different spots to punctuate a particular area but for the most part buildings are low rise, the tallest building is maybe 12 or so stories.

The sky is deeply blue - a cerulean blue, I think, and it's hue is deep with a saturation value that would need some careful mixing if I was to put the color to canvas. The sky extends over the city in a vast curvalinear shape, almost like a big bowl, and it extends out to the Jerusalem hills and beyond the edges of the city limits.

Yesterday, Akiva was visited by a social worker as part of a process by the local municipality that will get him some special services (not sure yet what these are but figure it can't hurt). Her name was Michelle and she's been here since '89, from Paris. We chatted about her experiences living here and how she felt about leaving Paris. I mentioned my love for NYC and that I miss the big buildings, the scads of people, the subway, the noise, the dirt. Michelle said she loves NYC and appreciates it as she appreciates the big cityness of Paris as well. But, she added, she loves the sky here and never tires looking at it, admiring it and reveling in it's vastness.

Akiva is starting a therapeutic riding program this week or next. It seems fitting for him to mount a horse here in the "Montana of the Middle East." The only question is, where do I pick him up a pair of chaps?

Husbandless

Survived the week well without Ira. Phone was quiet, then again didn't make too many calls, too tired in the evening as Akiva was waking up at 5:30am and appearing all chirpy and happy in my room singing anything from his Boker Tov/good morning song from school to "Sit down John," from 1776. Boys were helpful in the morning and we survived the rush for the bus/school/ulpan well each day - Gabe was the hero as Natan moves more slowly in the morning. Boys and I cooked together - a good pot of beans and Gabe made with some help a curried veg soup. Not bad. Banana bread in the oven now in the waning moments before candle lighting - Fayanne Salzberg-Smith likes our banana bread. Actually, I should say it's my friend's Elisabeth's banana bread, via the Laurel's Kitchen cookbook. Fayanne is settling in nicely, smiling and pointing and vocalizing at everything she sees and she even let me hold her for a minute this week when she visited my house. She liked Akiva's toys. Fayanne for those who might not know is our friends Lisa and Alan's new daughter, age 22 mos, originally from China. As my ulpan teacher, Tzipi said the other day, when discussing adoption, bringing new genes into the Jewish people, especially someone as cute as Fayanne, has got to be a good thing.

Met up with Ron and Marion Stein and Daphne and Gary, visiting in J'lem in preparation for Naomi's son, Tzvi's Bar Mitzvah. Nice to see familiar faces. Directed Marion to some good eats and good shopping. I sent them to a great restaurant last night. It's in an unlikely location, in the shuk (to the side) and specializes in meats mostly but has veg offerings as well and it's not in town which is nice. Town isn't so great these days. Sort of honky tonky like and in need of some serious redevelopment. There's a big fight happening right now with regard to a plan to develop into the Jerusalem hills, normally a sacrosanct location in terms of development because of environmental reasons. There's a feeling that developing this land is terrible in terms of ridding the area of enough green space but of course, developers feel differently. Many feel that Olmert, who was J'lem's last mayor, and the current mayor (who's name escapes me), care more about developers and the related kickbacks they may receive than in preserving the land. I don't know enough about it but that J'lem is a dense and expensive place to live and many live outside of the city because of those reasons. That said, money needs to be put towards restoring the downtown so that it's not just about tourist shops. Jessica says that Tel Aviv was an unexciting place to visit less than 10 years ago, and now it's been restored and money's been put towards improving infrastucture and places like Dizengoff, once the place to shop that had fallen on hard times, have come back as places to see, shop and be seen. Jerusalem needs that kind of attention. There has been indication of that kind of resurgence with the opening of a few new clothing shops downtown - shops with goods by Tel Aviv designers who had been disinterested in J'lem clientele in the past - that's a good sign.

Back to the here and now. 4:10pm. Akiva's on my lap, the banana bread is finished and I need to sign off and clean up and get to shul. A Shabbat Shalom and good weekend to all.

Rosh Ha'ayin

My sister Sarah, as many of you know, lives in Rosh Ha'ayin. In the 1950's, Israel helped bring many Jews from North Africa, Yemen and Iraq to Israel. Israel was a young country, it needed to build it's population and many of the Jews of North Africa and the Edot Mizrach - the more Eastern areas, weren't exactly living the easiest lives in terms of political freedom. It wasn't a perfectly executed plan. Unlike the Jews of Eastern Europe, who mostly came on their own or in small groups, either before or after WWII, these Jews came as whole families or even villages to Israel. They came to a country that wasn't that sophisticated in terms of how to help them acclimate. Most of the European Jews considered themselves the intellectual elite here in Israel and looked down on the Moroccan and Iraqi Jews as barbarians and too much like their Arab brethren. They ate Middle Eastern foods and listened to Middle Eastern music. It was all too close for comfort at a time when there was no hope for peace in the region. These Middle Eastern Jews were brought to Israel and first housed in tent cities, called "ma'a'barot" and pretty much abandoned to their fates - no job training, no ulpan to learn the language, no chance to feel that they could connect in to the life here. Their only hope was that their children would become Israelis and pave the way for the parents.

I saw a movie based on the writings of one such immigrant. He moved to Israel as a teen and lived in a ma'a'barah. He was offered the chance to be "retrained" on a local kibbutz with a group of Iraqi teens. The kibbutz was completely unsympathetic to the kids having left their families, their religious observance (as the kibbutz was secular), and even in some cases, their names (the kibbutz counselors changed most of their names as the kids had arabic sounding names). Interestingly enough, the kibbutnitzkim had names like Oleg, Sonia and Itka - European names, not Hebrew names but somehow these were "kosher" in their eyes. These Jews of Sephardic and Eastern Lands ultimately made good in Israel but it took a few generations to help right some of the ills of their difficult beginnings. The later immigration of Ethiopian Jews in the 90's, was also marred by some mistakes of how to properly integrate a different socio-economic group into Israeli society but there's alot more sophistication in how to make these things happen these days. The Russians have been a different situation entirely. They were a more sophisticated group entirely in terms of education and savvy. Their immigration is felt to have been a very successful and alot of their success had to do with their ability to come in and retrain for jobs and stick together to support each other as a group. There are Russian shops, restaurants, and television stations. The Russians have been successful politically as well, something that took Sephardic Jews many more years to achieve. Ultimately, the real measure of success is when people marry within the different groups.

I digress. Rosh Ha'ayin is a place to where Yemenite Jews were taken in the 50's and pretty much left there. When Sarah and Michael and their family moved there in the early 90's, it was a very small town. Sarah's neighborhood, Givat Ha'sla'im, was one of the first of a bunch of new neighborhoods being built as part of the Rosh Ha'ayin municipality. In those days, Rosh Ha'ayin looked like nobody had paid attention to it in years. The infrastructure, such as it was, was minimal - simple streets, almost no traffic lights, few shops and a general run down feeling. Part of this was cultural - people were used to it being that way. There's a certain for lack of a better way of putting it, white trash nature, to Rosh Ha'ayin. The older crowd built simple, boxy houses as they moved out of their tents. Most people built their own homes although there are also simple kinds of government apartment buildings in the older neighborhoods. As people moved up in the world and wished to upgrade their houses, they either added on wings, or just build a new house a few feet away from the old one, abandoning it and whatever else that was deemed old and in the way, sort of like a trailer park in a not so good part of town. Their children, as they married, moved a few blocks away and built houses that are newer and more sophisticated but the architecture tends to be flighty and fancifull and with many of the flourishes that one notices in Arab houses in Arab neighborhoods - decorative porches and flat roofs with cut outs and curvalinear shapes that Jews from Eastern Europe just don't do. As Sarah says, not unkindly, "they're Arabs."

Sarah has been singing in the Rosh Ha'ayin choir for more than 12 years. She is the only white person in it. Her choir members are proud of her. She's learned to sing in Yemenite and to ululate with the best of them but the one thing they don't trust her with is cooking. Now understand that my sister is an excellent cook, perhaps not as daringly original as her younger sister...anyway, once a month, the altiot (altos) eat dinner together. The menu never varies - fresh veggies and parsley, green onion and lemons for adding to your soup. There is lachuch which is like a yeasted pancake, and pitot and other Yemenite breads. (Yemenites make the best Everyone gets a deep, soup bowl filled with Yemenite soup (chicken soup with spices) and hilbeh, fenugreek paste and schug, a spicy, green condiment. Aseed - a semolina flour mixture is made right before you eat it and it goes into the soup but Sarah finds that it leaves her cold - "sort of like thick baby cereal in your soup." In your soup you get chicken, potato and aseed and then you squirt lemon and hilbeh and schug if desired and you eat your soup and chomp on your greens while eating. After the soup, you eat ja'a'leh which is all kinds of dried fruit and nuts. Sometimes the younger ladies will serve a sweet carrot salad or even a cooked kind of compote which the ladies acknowledge is somewhat Ashkenazic in style and that their mothers wouldn't have done it. Tea and coffee is served as well as some cookies and cake at the very end but again, that's less traditional, however, at this point the Yemenite community has lived in Israel for about 50 years and has coopted some of the local traditions for cake with tea by this point.

Sarah says that she had no idea what it would really be like to live in a Yemenite town when they moved here. It was a brand new neighborhood, complete with local shopping and ganim (kindergartens) but when it came time for regular school, her children ended up in local, religious schools with Yemenite classmates. They all have a mean yemenite "khet" and throaty "ayin" sound to their hebrew when they wish to put it on. What was harder was the close mindedness of the Yemenite community. Sarah said that the choir members welcomed her and she's been to a billion bar mitzvah's, weddings (the weddings are all huge, 900 people easily), and even funerals but she's not close friends with anybody. She loves singing in the choir, loves that the music is different than the average, Israeli choir and loves what she's learned from living cheek by jowl to such a culturally rich and diverse community.

The best things about living in a Yemenite community are the foods, specfically the breads. The foods are not that fancy, indeed it wasn't such a well to do community but they had flour and they made breads - kubaneh, a special Shabbat morning bread to eat after shul (meaning shul's over by 10:30am and you need a meal), melawach, a richer flatbread, and lachuch which I liken to a pancake not disimiliar to injera the Ethiopian bread, jach'noon, a rich, multilayered bread that's rolled and shaped into long rolls and baked, and f'toot, another yummy bread like object also eated in soup and there's even a Passover variety of it. Many of the breads are eaten with certain standard accompaniments - grated tomato, schug and a warm, hard-boiled egg, preferably brown colored (meaning the egg was boiled or baked with onion skins are something else that renders it dark). Melawach is used to make fabulous but indigestible sandwiches. Last Friday we ate them in the Rosh Ha'ayin shuk - Humous, schug, sliced egg, red stuff of some variety, perhaps some veggies but I can't remember exactly, all rolled up in to a hot, fresh, melawach. One follows such a sandwich with coffee, preferably turkish which is always strong, somewhat muddy in texture and somewhat sweet. Anything that can plow through the plumbing. A little Fernet Branca would probably do the trick.

The Rosh Ha'ayin shuk is my favorite. At the Rosh Ha'ayin shuk, you can get anything from underwear to radishes. We always work our way through the shuk, starting with the dry goods section - socks, undies, clothes, seconds of all sort of interesting clothing made in Israel, perfumes, fake Croc shoes in all colors. The middle of the shuk yields the food booths - the aforementioned Yemenite treats, basic felafel, candy booths, drinks and bourekas (filo dough savory pastries). Moving on to the other side, one can find produce, fresh bread for Shabbat, cakes and cookies and some prepared foods, mainly of the stuffed, filled and fried variety.

We immediately score some hits - socks, cheap pajama bottoms for 20nis or a little less than $5. Jessica is looking for Crocs for Aidan - they find fun emerald green ones for 30nis. I find camoflage painted Crocs for Natan and Gabe. Ira tries them on to determine size - the ones that are too big for him are for Natan and the too small for Gabe. We pick up some presents for Ira to bring to the US on his upcoming trip. By this point, we are deeply tired, not to mention hungry, desperately so. We breakfast - Sarah has kubanah which we all nibble on and the rest of us scarf down melawach. Daniel opts out of "harif," spicy sauce but the rest of us forge on and are surprised that it isn't that spicy. We wonder if we were given less spicy stuff given our white skin and delicate nature - "I have an order of 4 melawach for those white guys over there in the corner - they say they want harif....ha," we imagine the waiter saying this when she gives the order in to the sandwich maker. Replete, we stagger over to look at makeup - Shiseido compacts and name brand face products - who knows how old, who cares? Ira, Sarah and I have had enough and we head home.

Ira, the kids and I head back to Jerusalem at about 12:30pm. We barely make the cutoff for last minute pickup of food before everything closes. We make a quick run for Ma'a'danei Tzidkiyahu - assorted salads, plain and pickled, decent smoked salmon, some fried objects, a piece of cheese, a good bread (it's the last loaf and it looks like it was earmarked for one of the guys behind the counter but he graciously offers it up to us). We find one of the remaining Jerusalem Posts - always critical to have the Post and Ha'aretz on the weekend - and get a few last things at the over priced grocery on Emek Refaim. Fruit, veggies, some cookies, a bit of beer and a few more last purchases to see us through Simchat Torah. We head home to Akiva's Bayit house to get ready for Shabbat.

Yoreh

The Yoreh has come. Today, I got into the car and as I was driving up to Ramah Rachel for an early swim - yes, I could have walked - I noticed something odd on the windshield. I heard a sound of pitter, patter. Could it be? It was. It was rain. Just a bit of rain but actual rain droplets on the windowshield. I didn't need the wipers. As I stepped out of the car, I felt the rain gently falling on me. The air smelled wet and there was an earthiness to the aroma. I put my things down in the women's locker room and walked out onto the pool deck and it was really raining. There seemed to be no concern as to swimming in the rain - the lifeguard had put on a sweatshirt but that seemed to be his only concession to the weather. Locals passing by the pool area commented on the loveliness of the smell and how wonderful the rain felt. I swam my laps and reveled in the wetness surrounding me. It was alternately cloudy and sunny and by the time I had gotten out the Yoreh - the first rain, had long since stopped but we all felt a little blessed by it. My ulpan teacher, Tzipi, says that the verb "L'hit'gashem," to rain, not only refers to the water falling but also can be used metaphorically as if to describe something unbelievable or dreamlike which is how people feel here about rain. Considering that it last probably rained here in April or perhaps, early May, it is just about miraculous that the rain arrives again in the fall. I guess that's why there is a word to describe that wonderful first rainfall. And to think, we just said the prayer for rain yesterday in synagogue.

Sleeping in the Sukkah

Family day on Thursday. Beach on the edge of the Tel Aviv area - really more towards Herziliya area. It was HOT, hamsin hot - meaning hot and dry. We went late as who can bear to be out there baking earlier. The water was quite warm. That is to say it was warmer than I would ever imagine the Atlantic to be, even in early September when it's about as warm as it's going to get. We floated, splashed and swam until our eyes were red with the saltiness. I find the Med to be saltier than the Atlantic and wonder why this is. Akiva enjoyed himself as did the boys, until Natan sliced his foot on a sharp piece of shell. The medic in the first aid room was nonplussed as Natan dripped blood all over his clean floor. He informed us that stuff happens daily and that this cut was not a big deal. Natan is fine and healing nicely although walking a bit oddly as the cut was on his big toe. Jess and Daniel were there with their 2 girls and Sarah and Noam, Miriam and Peretz (Daniel's sister and brother in law) and their 23 year old son, Eliav, out of the army a year and starting University this fall and a family that are close buddies of Daniel, Arielle and Chaim and their 4 kids, ranging in age from 11 down. When the sun sank behind the sea - a beautiful sight, we headed back to Sarah's, where Michael had already fired up the barbie and was in the process of roasting various flesh foods. Joanthan and Barabara joined us with their 4. Everyone had made side salads and other contributions to the meal and we sat and ate and chatted. Beer rounded it all out just fine.

Natan wants to understand the focus on barbecue in this country. If you've ever been to Israel on Israel Independence Day you would know what I mean. There is literally a haze over the country from everyone barbecuing. Israelis love barbecuing. Daniel was shocked that Ira and I didn't ship a grill. Why wouldn't we want to join the fun? We barbecued on the 2nd day of Rosh Hashana. Why not? You can cook on the holiday, why not grill? I've suggested to Natan that we just go with it. Barbecue means good potato salad and that's always a good thing.

After dinner, we set up the sleeping arrangements. Jess and I were both sleeping over at Sarah's for the night. Sarah and Michael live in a 90sq meter apartment or about 1000 sq ft. It is not a big place but we like to say that it expands with ease. Everyone always finds a bed and always gets fed and entertained well. Jess and Daniel took one room and their girls took another room. Natan and Akiva shared the pullout sofa and Noam, Gabe, Ira and I, the sukkah. Their sukkah is a pleasant size and they have comfortable mattresses that we laid out sort of "family bed style." It was great. The weather had cooled down, the street construction that's been going on during the night because it's Ramadan and the workers work at night when they're not fasting, wasn't going on, the air was fresh and fragrant and Gabe wasn't snoring too much. I digress (I am know to snore as well but that's immaterial). Ira and I did well until about 5:30am when the street got a bit noisier and Ira started to sneeze from the flowers and the mattress got a bit too hard and we slept for the next hour or so in the two easy chairs in the living room - heaven.

Visting a Real City

Went to a big city yesterday. It's funny. We live in Jerusalem, which while not as big comparably to NYC of course, is a busy, grubby, crowded city. The streets are narrow and windy - there are no expansive avenues. As Natan put it, Jerusalem streets feel like they were designed originally for donkey carts. The bus system is vast and busy but there's no trains yet - light rail is being built with the expectation of it being in use in 2-3 years. Busses close up shop here at around midnight. This is a real comedown in life for us. Another shocker is no bus maps, at least we haven't found one yet. You have to get to "know" your local busses over time - sort of like the bank "getting to know you," in order to get a credit card. There are lots of shops and cafes but few 24/7 operations. When you have those late night munchies, you have to know where to go.

SoTuesday, we went to Tel Aviv. TA is a real city, with big streets (albeit with center medians replete with plants and treets and some,) and if you're really lucky, have an espresso joint on the corner. There were lots of people walking around and they had that "Je ne sais quoi" of city people worldwide - can't even explain it, they just looked better, more sharply dressed (anyting tho will beat some of the shlumpy, dressed up, religious crowd around these parts in J'lem). Interestingly enough, despite the big city air of Tel Aviv, the tall buildings (real skyscrapers, albeit spread apart across the skyline), people on the move, there is also the beach aspect of the city. It is a city built on sand and no matter where you are, the beach is never far away. The weather is hot and to our Jerusalem bodies, it felt much more humid and much hotter than what we are accustomed to of late but like New York, people walk around in all states of dress and undress, perhaps even more so because of that beach thing. We walked on the "tayelet," the boardwalk along the ocean. This of course, led to people wanting to be on the sand, which ultimately led to people wanting to be in the water but we found changing areas and indulged those needy swimmers, Akiva being most enthusiastic upon seeing the sand, sea and surf. Bathing suit styles range from small to micro, and often underwear, regardless of how seethru, will do just fine (and I'm not just talking about babies in states of undress). Like Europe, the bikini reigns but I find the sight of women of all ages in bikinis, regardless of shape, to be heartwarming and I mean that.

We spent some time earlier in the day looking at pianos. Contrary to what Ralph K and I thought before we left, Israel is a small country and nobody has owned up to piano rental as opposed to purchase. Natan and I are getting to know the different makes of pianos, mostly European, although one can find Yamaha and Kwai as well but the European pianos are quite good and we went to a place that had alot of beautiful, older, restored pianos. Piano shopping was followed by food as food is always the antidote to the exhaustion of spending money or even just preparing to spend money. As usual, coffee was necessary and sandwiches and pizza for those who felt that pizza was important. We ate sitting on the boardwalk, in the small area of shade that we found.

We drove home feeling content. We had been in a city. I was slightly depressed to remind myself that for all of the dirt and grime that makes Jerusalem comfortable for me, Tel Aviv is much more what I am accustomed to. What can you do? At least I'm not in New Jersey (with apologies to all of you suburbanites).

Moshav Band

Last night, we went to a concert - Ira and I, Jessica and Daniel and Miriam and Peretz (Daniel's sister and brother in law). We went to see the Moshav Band (with warm up by Makor - some up and coming group that has members related to Moshav Band guys). We arrived and wondered why the parking lot was so empty - we were a bit early, having eaten dinner out and the service was lousy (but the humous was excellent and different - it was Turkish humous, very creamy with a pleasant beany quality) and we figured we'd have coffee at the bar before they opened the doors. The concert started at 9:45pm but of course, The MoshavB didn't come out until about 11:00pm and that was late for us old people but we hung in gamely. There were people milling about - or should I say, there were children milling about. We gladly noted a few older types and then realized that they seemed to be chaperones of the younger crowd. Actually, that's not completely true but certainly if this crowd of concertgoers drives, they either don't have cars in Israel or are still in school/army or who knows what. We waited to pick up our tix behind a couple of young, religious guys who were querying the box office person, "hey dude, do you have more tickets?" The crowd was also unabashedly English speaking. Given our advanced age, we monitored the seating situation carefully and moved in quickly for seats when the doors opened. We were comfy, except for the continual ebb and flow of young things back and forth in the row the entire evening - is it that they all pee in groups or that they all have to pee alot or what is going on in the bathroom? Ok, let's not go there.

The Moshav Band was great. They are a band that has gone through alot of changes and developments over the years. They started out as a band with religous themed music, mostly in hebrew. Three of the main guys are all from english speaking homes but have grown up in Israel. Their music has a reggae feel alot of the time as well and the lead singer has a great voice with fabulous range and he does great scatlike stuff in hebrew and arabic. The drummer was a woman which was so cool and she was excellent. They did alot of cuts from their newest release and most of it is in english and while the themes are still often jewish, the music no longer has that jewish sound - sharp rock sound, lots of reggae and rap like stuff, always well executed instrumentally. They'll be touring in the US with Matisyahu, the reggae, Hasidic singer. Check it out.

Vacation days. The kids are all off. Akiva had school yesterday and today and his teacher reported that he sang lots of Sukkot songs in school. The big boys have been sleeping in and enjoying the relaxation. Gabe had a baseball clinic today which he enjoyed and he and Ira biked back and forth which was adventurous but not that bad - it's all a matter of figuring out the hills and getting onto the sidewalk when the roads are too narrow and traffic too busy. Natan and I went for a swim at Ramat Rachel. Tomorrow, we're off to Tel Aviv for the day.

Moadaim l'simcha to all enjoying Sukkot.