tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47712944291012664702024-03-13T03:07:54.120+02:00From the hills of JerusalemFrom the hills of Jerusalem I can see the vistas of my beloved City. Familiar landmarks, tall Jerusalem pines, and brilliant flowers spill over doorways, gates and walls, defining the landscape. .... In the day to day life of Jerusalem we share the unbroken thread from our ancient past and the God we serve is still in our midst.Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-36155785594481302742016-03-22T22:46:00.001+02:002017-01-22T10:19:29.154+02:00The Blue Gates and Windows of HaMoshava HaYevanit <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8PoFmvLBHBFELkG23_a5dIQfu8PxGegLb4WsnjRtKzlKw0Wjz7SZ9_HLVyB82Cb6Phq9sVCN8jDyK2oI8Qutgcx-tZeK7tdrzpCirLSwnFatZSoQ-hudoYBpbiI1onS_7_1QeTz7VbM9/s1600/DSCF3694-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig8PoFmvLBHBFELkG23_a5dIQfu8PxGegLb4WsnjRtKzlKw0Wjz7SZ9_HLVyB82Cb6Phq9sVCN8jDyK2oI8Qutgcx-tZeK7tdrzpCirLSwnFatZSoQ-hudoYBpbiI1onS_7_1QeTz7VbM9/s320/DSCF3694-001.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
The lovely Greek Colony (HaMoshava Yevanit) neighborhood of Jerusalem has a wonderful charm of yesteryear about it, but like many Jerusalem neighborhoods, it is in an ongoing process of gentrification. These old neighborhoods, just outside the Walls of the Old City, and among the first to be settled, are slowly losing some of their historic allure as new apartment buildings are being built, and older ones renovated.<br />
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Copious numbers of beautiful blue iron gates and blue shuttered windows can be seen throughout the neighborhood, and reflect one of the architectural signatures of the Greek Colony. I decided to photograph as many as I could, warmed by the visual charm of these lovely accents.<br />
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<b>The History of the Greek Colony</b><br />
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Sandwiched between the larger neighborhoods of Old Katamon and the German Colony, the Greek Colony was settled in the early 1900's by wealthy members of the Greek Orthodox community, who had been living in the Christian quarter of the Old City, but whose living conditions had become tense and overcrowded. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnLSZalxmah5ets8aMMG53Nh0zIw4g2wqc6FSyKvXTU_opomNUAl0mVM9aSQtSZKDmFX3kv_ITjNjasLKF3_p5Oyr4Ko-psuZ275ZOEkpw2AeDhApHO2yOE5nbPOol70g0rCZEhWAyY7s/s1600/DSCF3769-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnLSZalxmah5ets8aMMG53Nh0zIw4g2wqc6FSyKvXTU_opomNUAl0mVM9aSQtSZKDmFX3kv_ITjNjasLKF3_p5Oyr4Ko-psuZ275ZOEkpw2AeDhApHO2yOE5nbPOol70g0rCZEhWAyY7s/s320/DSCF3769-001.JPG" width="256" /></a>At one time, the Greeks living here in HaMoshava Yevanit numbered around 7,000, but most fled the area during Israel's War of Independence. After 1948, immigrants from Morocco and Yemen were brought to the empty buildings and new but inexpensive apartment buildings were built to accommodate them.<br />
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Many stately mansions remained however, as well as some of the charming one and two family homes that were built of stone. All were adorned with the blue iron gates and fences and blue window shutters. Not only the older mansion and smaller family homes but also apartment buildings, beit knesset, and garages boasted the blue. They remain to this day, a hallmark of the neighborhood.<br />
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One of the most striking buildings is today a lovely boutique hotel (Arcadia B'Moshava). Originally built as an apartment complex, circa 1918, by the family of a prestigious dressmaker from Beit Jala, it was bought by the Jewish Agency in 1948, when Israel became a state. At that time it was a center for Diaspora youth to come and study Judaism and Zionism. In more recent years it is perhaps most well known as the home of the Shalem Center (College) and Press. However in 2012, the Jewish Agency (still owners of the property) rented it to the Arcadia firm, who renovated the building and established the hotel, opening it in 2014.<br />
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This beautiful building, in fact, is mentioned on the <a href="http://www.goisrael.dk/Tourism_Dan/General%20information/news/Sider/Arcadia-BaMoshava-opens-in-Jerusalem.aspx">Israeli Tourism </a>website: "The prominent expert on Jerusalem's architecture, David Kroyanker, describes the building in his books as "the most special house in the Greek Colony" and as one "exceptional in beauty and splendor". In 2003, after its [earlier] renovation, the building was awarded first place in the category of "buildings for preservation" in a competition held by the Jerusalem Municipality and the Jerusalem Fund.<br />
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<b>Private Homes and Gardens</b><br />
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Nearby smaller residential buildings boast the blue gates in beautiful and individual ways. Behind these stone walls and blue gates lie gorgeous private gardens, protected from the public eye, but whose varied and prolific trees are visible to all.<br />
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I recently took a walking Garden Tour of the Greek Colony, led by Chanoch Ne'eman. Probably all the plants of Israel can be found behind the walls of these private homes. Of course we can see the magnificent Cypress trees, the tall overpowering Jerusalem pine trees - mostly outside of, and between, houses. But hanging over the edges of the stone walls and blue gates, are rimonim (pomegranate), mulberry, lemon, sheshek (loquat), olives, wisteria, figs, fragrant jasmine and more. It is so lovely and peaceful, and so Yerushalaymi.<br />
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<b>Is it Still Greek?</b><br />
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Is HaMoshava Yevanit still Greek? When asked if there were still Greeks living in Greek colony, Anistas Damianos, chairman of a committee with the still present Greek Community Center on Yehoshua ben Nun, laughingly stated that they still had a minyan (quorum of 10 men for Jewish prayer). ref: <a href="http://www.haaretz.com/israel-news/business/real-estate/.premium-1.566832">Haaretz</a>.<br />
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The Greek Community Center is a attractive complex of 5 buildings, beautifully maintained and offering several Greek related activities. On a pleasant summer evening the sounds of Greek dancing and song can be heard throughout the neighborhood as it emanates from the Community Center. Greek language classes are taught there. Shabbat morning coffee gatherings, and many more things still take place here. It is said that many well to do Greek Jewish families still divide their time between the Greek Colony of Jerusalem and Athens, with the Community Center being a point of contact.<br />
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The one building that is NOT embellished with blue gates or shutters, is the Greek Consulate, a handsome structure, which technically sits on the edge of Katamon, and on the seam between the Greek Colony and Old Katamon. <br />
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Through all the changes, it seems that to date, the blue gates and fences remain, giving this picturesque area of gardens, alleyways, and tall Cypress trees a connection to the past and charm to carry it to the future.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Door to the Consulate</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Community Center Grounds</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beit Knesset</td></tr>
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-75934501683699348022015-04-22T17:47:00.000+03:002015-04-23T18:23:29.103+03:00From Yom HaZikaron to Yom HaAtzmaut<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It begins with sobering remembrance. Each year it's different as to how I observe these days..Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron...and finally Yom HaAtzmaut. Always, though, at some point, I am moved to tears. So much to contemplate. One sets the mood for the other.<br />
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On Yom HaShoah and first siren on Yom HaZikaron, I was at home, firstly on my mirpeset, and last night, on the street in front of my building when the sirens bade us to stop and remember. Last night, there wasn't a lot of traffic on my usually busy street. I had hoped for more, to experience once again, the oneness of Am Yisrael, as together we stop, get out of our cars, buses, and remember. For personal reasons, I wasn't able to go to a tekes this year, and this would have to serve as a quiet personal reflection for now.<br />
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Even though I know it happens, I've experienced this before, but I'm always shocked, and it always takes me aback. In the midst of the siren, a taxi gunned it down the street at high speed, making sure everyone noticed HE wasn't stopping. Obviously the taxi driver didn't approve, flipping us the bird in the most obnoxious way he could. <br />
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On Yom HaShoah last week, I read of an arab bus driver who refused to stop his bus, taking all the people hostage who tried to no avail to stop him.<br />
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Today, as we approached the time for the 2nd Yom HaZikaron siren, I too was on a bus, on my way to the shuk. I noted that my driver was Jewish, comforting myself with the fact I wouldn't have to run to the front, grab the steering wheel and find the brakes when the siren went off. <br />
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Still I was unprepared.<br />
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When the siren went off, the driver stopped, opened the doors of the bus, and those who wanted to exit and stand outside on the street, did so, the rest of us stayed standing in the bus. Mid-siren my submerged emotions began to surface and I felt the tears start. Suddenly to my left, speeding across the street were several yellow arab sheruts, joined in spirit by a motorcyclist who tried to keep moving but was blocked by cars. Tossing his head and giving verbal smart a**ed remarks to those who would bid him stop, he wanted to make his point. I turned my head towards the Walls of the Old City and the tears just streamed down my face. It wasn't just the loss of our boys, although that was strong enough. It was also, the continual, ongoing struggle of the in-your-face hatred we feel and experience every day that I mourned. It wasn't that it's too difficult, it's just ...I don't know....such a loss. It filled me with such sadness that belligerence, hatred and violence is so strong....that the battle is way far from over, in fact, unchanged and I felt the eternity of the struggle.<br />
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I cried quietly for 3 or 4 minutes. Our lovely driver was slow to turn on the engine again, waited for the next light, thoughtful and reflective as were the rest of the people on the bus. It's a sobering moment that deserves our respectful attention. I was so glad that I was on that particular bus.<br />
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It was then I realized where we were. I mean I knew in real time of course, but was not even thinking of the powerful symbolism until that moment. We could not have been at a more meaningful place. We were at the top of Shlomo HaMelekh in front of Kikar Tzahal. (Tzahal is our IDF). It is the location where the Ottman Empire surrendered to Allenby in 1917, the dividing line between our newly formed IDF and the Jordanian troops in 1948; it was the 1949 Armistice Line between Israel and "No Man's Land" , and is the symbolic seam between Jews and Arabs since the 1967 Victory and reunification of Jerusalem. <br />
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It seems - and not the first time for me - I was feeling more than the moment. I was feeling the angst of our People and the history of the very rocks that were crying and crying out. <br />
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די<br />
With some difficulty we recognize it is now time to move into Yom HaAtzmaut. We have our set time for mourning and now it's our set time for rejoicing. As we move into tomorrow, let us celebrate not only with fireworks and mangal, but also with thankfulness that we are here. Just because it is such a struggle...it's important that we understand the outcome.<br />
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Israel, a sweet Land, filled with milk and honey, is ours once again.<br />
<br />Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-28822894212765488252015-01-03T15:45:00.000+02:002015-01-04T11:39:46.199+02:00A Moment in Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes i feel like getting out of here...leaving Israel for good. Life is so hard here. Among other things it's almost impossible to make ends meet for most Israelis...for some of us way worse than for others. Of course there are people who are comfortable and more, but most of us struggle to finish the week or the month. <i>The wear and tear and fatigue from the never ending battle just to survive is sometimes overwhelming. </i><br />
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Additionally, it's a bit schizophrenic here. Part of it's the neighborhood we live in, I guess. Being under attack all the time does take it's toll. It requires constant diligence, overcoming techniques, many tears, heartbreak and funerals. We don't treat each other well, except in the midst of tragedy and then we are entirely One people - no one will ever be bonded more closely together than at those times. But in between events...it's a free for all circus. One minute a complete stranger will give you the money to get home on the bus because Egged screwed up your Rav Kav and won't - as in refuse - find a way to correct it, but five minutes later you will be cut in front of, in any line you have ever stood in, mowed down on the sidewalk by racing cyclists (including the Harley variety) or baby carriages (don't get me wrong I love babies, it's the parents wielding the carriage like a weapon that I mind), screamed at, insulted and out maneuvered. <i>The wear and tear and fatigue from the never ending battle just to survive is sometimes overwhelming.</i><br />
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And then there's the infrastructure. The mind-boggling bureaucracy, the unresponsive and self serving government, the public family brawl that is called politics...and a few other things that would be too airing of our family laundry to mention. There's not a single thing that we do not have to fight for, the first answer is always "no", and the rule is "wait two days", find a different person, and start over. Everything from receiving a package from the post office, to paying bills, dealing with the bank, maneuvering the health system, getting a renewal on your drivers license, paying your arnona (property tax) and everything in between, requires a lengthy instruction manuel on how to succeed at the task (except that no one has ever written one)....and an insane amount of sablanut. (patience). <i>The wear and tear and fatigue from the never ending battle just to survive is sometimes overwhelming.</i><br />
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<i>Nu, why on earth do I live here, you might ask. </i>Fair question, as obviously, I ask myself the same.<br />
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The only answer I can give to that is to tell of a moment that happened to me this past fall. Even now I am trying to remember that moment again, especially when the fatigue of the battle overwhelms me.<br />
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That morning i was walking down the back road near my apartment, the sun intense and hot. Nearby cypress trees offered no shade, standing only like soldiers guarding the walkway and framing the Israeli sky. The Israeli sky - that certain blue found nowhere else, proud and perfect and beautiful. In front of me were the blue iron gates and fences of Yerushalayim - matching the sky and bringing heaven and earth together. The air, a mix between steamy and dusty settled into my soul filling all the empty spaces within.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9mhtSCP9VQTausjvMDBBm6x_EsxNn7fI4jExTlrYjjUrxyhhTeb8GrlwjBRUbie4bQqUDBJspiUcSEnWvawHcYOxNrUHxezDPYiKO0TzWekrjjShaZgbFt23MNWLEAbbVBvcg4Gi5mnq/s1600/DSCF3680-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9mhtSCP9VQTausjvMDBBm6x_EsxNn7fI4jExTlrYjjUrxyhhTeb8GrlwjBRUbie4bQqUDBJspiUcSEnWvawHcYOxNrUHxezDPYiKO0TzWekrjjShaZgbFt23MNWLEAbbVBvcg4Gi5mnq/s1600/DSCF3680-001.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>For a moment in time, I felt the kind of peace that only Israel gives...the air, the sky & the Land is somehow eternal and it permeates everything. For a few real-time minutes my world became timeless - by some immortal moment or memory, I found myself standing amidst the blazing sun, the Israeli sky, the companionship of the cypress as though it were anywhere in Israel and anywhere in time. I had stepped through a door into timeless realm ..and it was thoroughly delicious.<br />
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There was that inexplicable soul level knowledge/understanding that my neshama, even my dna, is married to this Land. I am safe here, my soul is safe. I am connected to this place <i>Eretz Yisrael,</i> this people, my people, <i>Am Yisrael</i>, and always have been. For better or worse, I am here.<br />
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So, on days when the going gets really tough, when my sablanut is missing or wearing thin, when the winter months are long, the days too short and the nights too dark & long, when i get yelled at or treated rudely one too many times, when i miss my family - none of whom are here in Israel - I will think of that special moment in time and try to remember <i>why</i> I am here.<br />
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I will stay and await my children to come, holding and anchoring a place for them like I always have. The safety of Gan Eden, they will come when the time is right. I can only pray I am still here.<br />
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<br />Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-92216377992465874612014-08-21T10:19:00.001+03:002014-08-21T12:19:44.795+03:00Unusual Talent / Unexpected DanceIt's good to know that even in the midst of the War, normal things still happen every day in Israel. Life goes on. It must.<br />
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The other night I was running some errands in the normally busy German Colony (Hamoshava Germanit) - which I must admit has been <i>abnormally</i> quiet during this long summer War. That night however, it was bustling. Israeli families with exuberant "on-summer-holiday-from-school" kids, along with a <i>few</i> tourists, made the street an alive and happy place - like it used to be. It was nice to see!!<br />
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So, rather than a War story, I want to share a little vignette about normal Israeli life and how it works here. But first let me digress a moment to share a necessary personal part of this tale.<br />
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All my life I have had this unusual "ability" or "talent" (smile) to unconsciously take on whatever the person I am walking with, is doing. By that I mean, if the person is limping, pretty soon I find myself limping. Or if they list to one side, I may find myself tipping in that same direction. You get the picture.<br />
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As you might guess, it's been the source of both amusement and embarrassment. Mostly it's been humorous, and an opportunity to show, well, I guess, empathy. It doesn't happen all the time, just once in awhile.<br />
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Nu, that night I was walking on the sidewalk and passed an older woman who was struggling with some very heavy bags. Pre-occupied in thought as I passed her, I suddenly realized she <i>really was struggling.</i> Quickly turning around to see if I could help, I saw her stop and drop her bags but before I could even start out, an older man rushed up, took her bags, asked where she was going, and took off down the street in the direction of the bus stop, heavy bags in hand. <br />
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I watched her for a moment to make sure she was ok, and I saw she was not. The man was half way down the street, but she was leaning up against the wall, trying to walk...but just couldn't. So I ran to her and offered her my arm to help her get to her destination. She silently took my arm and I could see she was in a lot of pain, too much pain to even talk.<br />
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Immediately however, there was a real problem. Heavy in the legs, with feet that turned inward, she simply could hardly walk. Not only that, when she did try, her gait was very disconnected, unstable, and unpredictable. We started to fall all over each other and I wondered how on earth would we get down the street to the bus stop.<br />
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Suddenly I remembered my "skill" !! Quickly I willed myself to fall in line with her gait, and I was able to match it immediately. This time it was done <i>consciously</i> but it kind of felt like magic! Ha!<br />
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So there we were, making our way down the sidewalk like in a slow motion dance - a dance whose steps I <i>certainly</i> did not know on my own. I had to concentrate, but only once did we lose rhythm - she had to stop and rest and upon starting up again it took me 2-3 seconds to match her gait once more. <br />
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Truthfully, it was wonderful, and I laughed. Who would have thought this odd skill/talent/whatever could ever be used for good! When we arrived at the bus stop I turned to look into her face, and instead of the contortion of pain, she was radiant. Her face was glowing as she planted a huge kiss on my cheek and thanked me and asked about the bus route. Perhaps no one had ever walked with her quite like that before, and for a couple of moments, maybe she didn't feel alone in her pain.<br />
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I am not sharing this to say that I did something good. Not at all. I am sharing this to say this is just what life is like in Israel. While Israelis can be rude and pushy and blunt, if someone is hurting, instantly another will come to help...it's part of the fabric of Israeli life. We want to help, maybe because we all share in the hurting here in Israel..and we know what it feels like to be in pain of some kind. <br />
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But I am also telling the story, because .. IF you have some "unusual" talent, you just never know when it might make a difference in someone else's life. Maybe all that is needed is the right moment in time...to lift the spirits of someone, to make life momentarily easier, to help them to know they are not alone. Even a two minute uneven, awkward - but definitely choreographed - dance down the street can perhaps change a feeling of helplessness to one of momentary triumph. I hope that happened to this sweet lady.. after all we were the cat's meow on that sidewalk in Jerusalem! I hope she laughed and the rest of her evening was happier, and she knew people cared about her struggle.<br />
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A few hours later I was huddled with my neighbors in the stairwell of our building, waiting out the rocket attack...midnight..in our jammies, getting to know one another. I sure hope the old lady had a safe room and didn't have to go into a stairwell.<br />
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Life in Israel. It's good.<br />
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<br />Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-24600618009704699022014-06-26T20:30:00.000+03:002014-06-27T14:17:55.741+03:00Haimaot - The Mothers : EyalGiladNaftaliIt's been two weeks. I haven't written about it yet...until now. I guess the shock was still there ... waiting for good news.<br />
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Haimaot (the mothers) broke through their shock, refusing to wait for the good news, instead taking matters into their own hands. Boldly speaking out - first on the media, then to the United Nations Council on Human Rights in Geneva, then to the Knesset - they have been an inspiration to all Israel. Not only is their strength apparent in the midst of their terrible ordeal, but also their courage.<br />
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Traveling to the UN, a den of iniquity filled with snakes and vipers, who but a mother would have the strength to sit through the vilest of accusations against Israel, and still speak out for the truth, still plead to the world for the right of her child to come home from school - the right of any child -and still to leave no stone un-turned in the quest to save her/their children.<br />
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Racheli Frenkel, the mother of Naftali, spoke from her broken heart with simplicity and courage. She had no agenda but the cry of a mother for her child. I heard her voice crack once. I think I would have completely lost my composure, but she paused one second to steady herself, and then continued on. I was amazed at her courage. <br />
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How could these mothers not have heard the terrible things said both before and after their plea. I heard them. I boiled with anger. I cried at the unjust lies being hurled at Israel and for their benefit...to humiliate and mock them. I had to turn off the computer twice while waiting for the boys' mothers.<br />
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Not only was there the vilest of lies before, but the audacity of mockery after they spoke. "What kidnapping?" it was said. "I never heard of it". Outright lies about thousands of Palestinians kidnapped and killed by Israel. The outrageousness of it all is hard to take. I have been appalled that some would suggest we have fabricated the story.<br />
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Yet, these three mothers persist, seemingly impervious to the abhorrent things that were and are being said, kept, and continue to keep right on going, not stopping until their boys are home, safe in their beds at night.<br />
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After the UN they took on the Knesset. Bat-Galim Sha'ar, mother of Gilad, spoke forthrightly about the responsibility of the government to do the right thing. Shocked that the operation was being scaled back, shocked that the government had made a "deal" with the hunger - striking prisoners, Sha'ar challenged them to do the the right thing, and to do everything. She told them the families would not accept "irresponsible" government decisions. Full text of her speech, which was very moving, can be found <a href="http://www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/182161#.U6wlnV6wLLQ">here</a>.<br />
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It can be said that any and all mothers would do the same. Mothers of other kidnapped sons have cried out and pleaded with the government and with the world. We must respect any effort of any parent to find their lost child...and our hearts have always been broken.<br />
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What is different, what is unique with the mothers of these boys, and their families, is that they are not asking the government to appease the enemy, to make deals to bring the boys home (all of which can nevertheless be understood and never judged), but these families are asking for the IDF, for the government to be bold, to stand strong and do the right thing. NO to the terrorists, no to "deals". <br />
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I was a supporter of the deal for Gilad Shalit, for a lot of reasons, but never for the release of prisoners for some insane "piece" negotiations with those who want to kill us. The truth be told, Israel has always traded prisoners for our soldiers or their bodies, if they did not survive. This is no different....except for that one thing. This time it is being demanded that they be returned for the right reasons, and NOT for the deal of released terrorists. These mothers are demanding that our government, and even the world, stand up finally for what is right and just, and expect it to happen.<br />
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They have encouraged us, we who should be encouraging them.<br />
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It is time we stand strong as a nation. These are all our boys, our sons, our brothers, our friends. As it is said, the other Rachel, who wept for her children she did not have, because of her tears and her righteousness, merited the return of Klal Yisrael to Eretz Yisrael.<br />
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Please G-d, for the sake of these mothers, and for the same reason, bring Eyal, Gilad and Naftali home, alive and well.<br />
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<br />Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-88081114725926314442014-05-05T13:57:00.000+03:002014-05-11T21:08:41.626+03:00Yom HaZikaron, Mishpacha Echad<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://fbexternal-a.akamaihd.net/safe_image.php?d=AQBN5q-I0Bs_ZzZj&w=377&h=197&url=http%3A%2F%2Fcdn.timesofisrael.com%2Fblogs%2Fuploads%2F2014%2F04%2Fisr_yom_hazikaron_reuters_04242012-584_539_332_c1.jpg&cfs=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://fbexternal-a.akamaihd.net/safe_image.php?d=AQBN5q-I0Bs_ZzZj&w=377&h=197&url=http%3A%2F%2Fcdn.timesofisrael.com%2Fblogs%2Fuploads%2F2014%2F04%2Fisr_yom_hazikaron_reuters_04242012-584_539_332_c1.jpg&cfs=1" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo from http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/ </td></tr>
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Last night when the 8pm sirens began the 24 hours of Yom HaZikaron, our memorial day for remembering our soldiers who gave their lives for this country, I walked down the street seeking a neighborhood tekes (ceremony) and so that I could be outside when the sirens sounded.<br />
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In Israel when the sirens go off on Yom HaZikaron, (at 8pm for one minute, then again the next morning at 11am for two minutes) everything comes to a halt. People go out to the street, pedestrians halt, all cars and vehicles stop, even on highways, including buses, and everyone stands for the one minute or the two minutes of the siren. Drivers and passengers get out of their cars and stand beside their vehicles as we remember the fallen. It is a profoundly moving experience.<br />
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As the 8pm time approached, I saw many people gathering in the kikar (traffic circle) ahead, and others gathering in the circle around the kikar itself, all of us joining one another in this public expression of sadness and heartfelt mourning. I had never seen this gathering at the kikar, and it was very much an expression of all of us together and especially meaningful.<br />
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It was what happened next however that made this one of the most moving of Yom HaZikaron evenings. I found myself a moment later, at the One Family Fund building, where a tekes was beginning. One Family Fund is an organization that brings together all the resources of people, services and monies to support families of victims of terror. It is dedicated to a lifetime of assistance if needed to those who have suffered such a loss, and there are so many, like the soldiers, who have given their lives for this country.<br />
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This night, on Yom HaZikaron, when we remember the soldiers, we also remembered another kind of soldier - those who died, not in uniform, but defenders of our Land just the same. One by one on the screen, names and faces of those so familiar to us brought us close. Soldiers lost in battle and those lost in terror attacks were remembered together. Family members, sons, daughters, brothers or sisters, stood at the microphone and gave moving and uplifting testimony to their loved ones and to their struggles to move ahead and regain their own lives. It was indescribable...heartbreaking and healing at the same time.<br />
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The audience was filled with family members, friends, young soldiers, and as we all know, each of us is a friend and has a personal connection to each one who has died. Not just in thought or spirit, but truly, because we are really a family, it IS someone that we know, or the friend of someone we know. There is always a personal connection. No one is untouched, we are part of one another, we are, Am Yisrael, One Family, Mishpacha Echad.<br />
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It was then I realized, like I do every year, that we cannot - not only cannot, we don't have the right, to celebrate the happiness of Yom HaAtzmaut, without sharing with one another, the pain of Yom HaZikaron.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQa7Yzm5AkE/U2dsEWhK1LI/AAAAAAAAENE/Ljja4T2o_YE/s1600/IMG_6226-801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQa7Yzm5AkE/U2dsEWhK1LI/AAAAAAAAENE/Ljja4T2o_YE/s1600/IMG_6226-801.jpg" height="317" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from Onefamilytogether.org</td></tr>
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<br />Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-86804333107058916962014-02-19T17:14:00.000+02:002014-02-19T17:14:34.344+02:00Spring...it tries<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Spring...it tries to come. </b></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Flirting carelessly..</b></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>...as if it would happen. </b></i></span></span></div>
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-24877612698480249622014-01-05T22:48:00.000+02:002014-01-05T23:32:57.192+02:00Fiddlers <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wPuSRoExlsg/UsnBD67QR0I/AAAAAAAAEGM/8O6Quw0J4ZI/s1600/DSCF3530+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wPuSRoExlsg/UsnBD67QR0I/AAAAAAAAEGM/8O6Quw0J4ZI/s320/DSCF3530+-+Copy.JPG" width="241" /></a>Our Jerusalem streets abound with artists, musicians, actors - performers of every shape and talent - delighting... or annoying... passersby. Any and every corner can suddenly become a stage, and since Jerusalem is known for it's ..emm, unusual affect on many visitors or even residents, one can expect almost anything. The gig is usually for passersby to throw in coins of appreciation, sometimes to advertise an event..sometimes just for the sheer joy of performing in this supernatural City.<br />
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Because there are so many, so often, as a Jerusalemite, one rarely pays much attention, occasionally nodding or noting an appreciation if especially entertaining. Sometimes though, even the most blase among us get caught up in the beat, in the moment, and you might see people breaking into spontaneous dance just walking down the street, should they happen upon someone really good.<br />
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Visitors of course are another matter. Enthralled with anything and everything about this City, they often stand in awe, drawn in, clapping, and of course, snapping picture after picture with their cell phones held high. As a resident, sometimes it is a little embarrassing...i mean we really are normal, most of us. (I think)<br />
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But this fall, I too was fascinated and drawn to two remarkable fiddlers, fiddling, not on the rooftops, but very close, as they stood on a wall near the entrance to the Old City, at the Jaffa Gate. Walking past this spot one or two times a week, as I work in the Old City, I first spotted the dark outline of the fiddlers against the Jerusalem sky, and it was pretty startling. I felt a bit like Tevye, going about my business, and there he was, the familiar tune and the fiddler silhouetted against the sky. I really wished my daughter could have been with me, she would love it !<br />
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It was rather remarkable actually. I mean life is very intense in Israel at all times and while we fake it a lot, there is a shadow of uncertainty hovering over us constantly. But here was the fiddler, buoying us up, giving us a thumbs up, helping us to get through. When the fiddler is at the Gates of the Old City, there is a little spring and lightness in my step as I bound up the stairs...in time to his music of course. <br />
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The fiddler and his music is a symbol of hope and survival for many Jews...through our history and times of trouble and uncertainty, the fiddler is there. If you remember from the play, as the drama ends and they are all leaving Anatevka, the very last scene is the fiddler, beginning to play, and, at Tevye's beckoning nod, he follows them out of the village. Kol beseder.<br />
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In our case, there are actually <i>two</i> fiddlers. Erik Fleshler and Vladimir Bob (Yourochkin) and they go by the musical moniker, <i>Tip Top.Jerusalem. </i>They call themselves The Eccentric Duo, and that they are.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8GsccKZD37A/UsnBKDrEABI/AAAAAAAAEG8/K6uIM5_biCE/s1600/Photo-0157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8GsccKZD37A/UsnBKDrEABI/AAAAAAAAEG8/K6uIM5_biCE/s200/Photo-0157.jpg" width="200" /></a>A bit obscure, funky, and funny, Erik and Vladimir Bob are entertainers for free or for hire, here in Jerusalem, in Moscow, or perhaps wherever you need them, if they are available.You can find their page on Facebook, or contact them at TipTopJerusalem@gmail.com. I think they have other tricks up their sleeve, because they made me a balloon snow bird? while talking with them. :)<br />
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To be honest, I didn't ask a lot about them because I want to keep them in that somewhat esoteric place - Fiddlers on the Roofs of Jerusalem - where the music and the image speak louder than words, where the supernatural and the natural blend as one, and we don't have to ask questions.<br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><i><b>L'chaim</b></i></span><br />
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<br />Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-32908893120495267932013-09-16T11:30:00.000+03:002013-09-30T00:18:26.078+03:00Walk in the Neighborhood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Every neighborhood has it's charm and I suppose, it's drawbacks. My current neighborhood in Yerushalayim is no exception, except I can't really think of any drawbacks, to be honest. Charming, picturesque, and quintessentially a Yerushalayimi kind of place, it is close to, even within walking distance of, most everything I want. I have to move within a month or so, and my hope and prayer is that I can find another apartment in this same "hood". </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is known as Katamon, Greek for "below the monastery" - referring to the San Simon Monastery. Katamon at one time was divided into several sub neighborhoods, which still remain. They are called the Katamonim and the monastery sits in the one called San Simon, adjacent to a huge and lovely public park. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I still call it Katamon, as habit and tradition dictates, for many reasons I really prefer the Hebrew Gonen, meaning </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">defended, </i><span style="font-size: large;">because that tells the Israeli story</span><i style="font-size: x-large;">. </i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Katamon in general, and San Simon monastery in particular, played important roles in the 1948 War for Independence and was the scene of several strategic battles and events. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Additionally a large swath of the Katamonim or Gonenim was the armistice line between Israel and Jordan prior to the Six Day War ... hence </span><span style="font-size: large;">this area was called (he who defends or the defenders) -</span><span style="font-size: large;"> Gonen or Gonenim.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">The Greek church sold some of the land surrounding the monastery to wealthy </span><span style="font-size: large;">Christian Arabs, thus at the outset of the</span><span style="font-size: large;"> 1948 War of Independence, San Simon had become both an Arab neighborhood and headquarters and home for many British officials of the Mandate. This change developed in the midst of the surrounding Jewish neighborhoods, and during the 1948 War itself, the monastery became a stronghold for Iraqi volunteer fighters supporting the Jordanians. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death Alley</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A <a href="http://www.jpost.com/Israel-Guide/Jerusalem-Area-Tours/Katamon-Independence-Day-miracle">fascinating battle</a> was fought here during the '48 War, when the Palmah captured the monastery, turned it into a hospital for wounded soldiers and at the same time, continued to fight a fierce and victorious battle from within it's walls. It was here Raphael Eitan was shot in the head on "death alley" and yet miraculously picked up a gun and kept fighting from within the building. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All the streets from Jabotinsky to HaPalmach are rich with history from our Wars for Independence and our Land.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ah...but I digress a little. The "battle" area has been an intimate part of my life and my neighborhood for many years but lately my walks are to the area and gardens next to Hansens Hospital- the hospital which for many years treated patients with leprosy (Hansen's disease). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's a place I love to go to when I am just "walking" and not trying to get somewhere, catch a bus, or run an errand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is something memorable and extraordinary about this place, a picture of another era painted against the hillside. It should stay forever. In fact, perhaps it will. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But for now it is still a poignant remnant of the past and perhaps why I like to walk there. </span><span style="font-size: large;">The struggle for survival in this Land is sometimes so intense that maybe I feel a connection with the will of those who were here, simply to survive. I am sure they felt isolated and rejected, a feeling not so unknown to both Israelis and to Israel herself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe it because I had an introduction to her already, in 2001, when I visited the grounds with a friend who wanted to purchase the compound for a healing center. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">When I saw it then, it reminded me - and still does - of the childhood book <i>Secret Garden</i>. I fully expected to see Colin, Mary and Dickon in the corner, watching the robin build his nest, planting and playing, laughing and whispering their secret. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> ...Or maybe i am simply drawn here because the entire area is stunningly beautiful, untouched by recent time...the landscape left alone and natural, especially - and where I walk the most - in the land surrounding the compound itself.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Last month, on a Shabbat, I snuck onto the grounds of the hospital and wandered </span><span style="font-size: large;">quietly </span><span style="font-size: large;">in the stillness and through the hushed campus, peering into the hallways and alleyways that wound their way into the building. I am certain hidden treasures of days of old are there, waiting to be discovered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> This charming atmosphere won't last long however, as the good news is that the site was finally recognized by the Jerusalem Municipality as a historical site to be preserved. As such it is now beginning to undergo major renovation, but hopefully not destruction. It will be turned into a huge Multimedia Art Center, including exhibitions, labs, theaters, studios for artists, a guest house, cafe and restaurant and will be a center for research and development.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before all these changes take place, </span><span style="font-size: large;">I will try to do a photo shoot inside the grounds, for who knows how much of the original charm of the terraced gardens and the grounds will be retained. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is said that all the species of Eretz Yisrael are found here and on the adjacent grounds. Looking, one might think so, but I don't know if it is fact or legend. I simply walk and think and find peace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I do know that it is here that fig and olive, rimon and sabra grow side by side and abundant in the hot Jerusalem sun. Grape vines, still trained on yesterday's trellises produce their fruit, providing visitors with a refreshing treat. Wild roses, tall Jerusalem pines and date palm trees mingle with crab-apples and bridal-like white flowering bushes. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qPpev3uCBzs/UjbfvCLndJI/AAAAAAAAEDQ/HDMY8qZMt9Q/s1600/DSCF3461-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qPpev3uCBzs/UjbfvCLndJI/AAAAAAAAEDQ/HDMY8qZMt9Q/s320/DSCF3461-001.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">Scenes from the gardens adjacent to the Hansens Hospital </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">Grounds (the garden is Bustan Lior - the Orchard of Lior - named for a victim of a terror attack in 2004) and other scenes from the streets, alleyways and ganim (parks) en route to them can be </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">seen as a slide show below. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Enjoy your walk through this Jerusalem neighborhood !!</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-29123355582986845852013-08-02T18:38:00.000+03:002013-09-16T12:42:19.630+03:00Sabra<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Every
lifetime has its course defined either by the gods or by us. We agree or we choose, perhaps a little of
each. Sometimes we may choose in spite
of the wisdom of a Council which would advise us differently.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Still .. we
come. Still they allow it. Maybe our connections are so deep we have no
choice even when we think we chose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The link
between lives is too strong to disregard, at the same time it is often too
strong to bear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Entering
Israel one sees that the sabra are beautiful and almost majestic, a mirror of the Land. It is said the fruit though prickly is
sweet. Perhaps….or perhaps that is a
legend perpetuated by those who simply don’t know what lies inside. If the truth were known, the fruit is sweet but filled with hard stony seeds - too hard to chew, requiring them to be spit out or swallowed and ignored. The sweetness, elusive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I wish I
could tell you not to touch the sabra but you will, because your heart is pure
and you love deeply. You will, because
it is your destiny. You will, because in spite of the depth of the pain and enormous sadness, your love is unconditional. I know. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You will because, like me, you will remember lifetimes when the fruit of the sabra was fully sweet and you were filled with joy and laughter.</span><br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-50684204703699783202012-04-17T17:51:00.002+03:002016-04-17T08:48:47.558+03:00FIRST MIMOUNA !!<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIcngY4XhZ9raSDMeXbPDYLsFM_hqY_mvifg1s0HS-Kml9cVAGiSNDCJ82SXr0_qpiOgtB6H3bhCcS4Gi7jjNuAYMxS-HYZRqYwTHZWdt0zbaXedoXzzl_nfn0pEkp1_rqCIQYgBikixx/s1600/Photo-0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIcngY4XhZ9raSDMeXbPDYLsFM_hqY_mvifg1s0HS-Kml9cVAGiSNDCJ82SXr0_qpiOgtB6H3bhCcS4Gi7jjNuAYMxS-HYZRqYwTHZWdt0zbaXedoXzzl_nfn0pEkp1_rqCIQYgBikixx/s400/Photo-0007.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Even b</i></span></span><i>efore I made Aliyah I knew about the Moroccan Mimouna celebration that begins as soon as Pesach ends. I always wanted to go... it looked so fun and festive ! (and it IS !!) Each year I would try to work out an arrangement, and each year, for different reasons, it never happened. There used to be a huge celebration at a local Jerusalem park (Gan Sacher.) While I had hoped for a more intimate gathering, the one year I attempted to go to the large public happening, no one showed up ! The police and the television were expecting the crowd, as was I, so in the end, with no one there, television Channel One interviewed ME !! haha..I even wrote about it in my blog way back in 2009 (<a href="http://fromthehillsofjerusalem.blogspot.com/2009/04/chasing-elusive-moufleta.html">Chasing the Elusive Moufleta).</a></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-family: inherit;">For some reason, Mimouna itself remained as elusive at the mufleta that i wrote about ! Until THIS year !<b> </b></i></span><br />
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<i>But first, what exactly IS Mimouna? While I could go into varied and perhaps more esoteric explanations regarding the origins of Mimouna, very simply it is a Moroccan or Jewish tradition of North Africa, a celebration that begins as Pesach ends. The tradition celebrates the freedom we won coming out of Egypt, the heavens are open for our prayers, and blessings for success and prosperity, for courtship and marriages are kept in mind this night. Every one is dressed in his or her finest, tables are set with fine china and linen, there is a festive spirit, music and laughter. The hosts normally dress in traditional Moroccan clothing and many men wear the Red Fez of Fez, Morocco. </i></div>
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<i><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_ZiU6PyXz56ezn6j3UqE1lSN-QLPbrT-7eUfoLKISHRvjjZ89rLzxWaGYXI3WQl1W7m-9rWHMmr_IGHmghFi3JwFJ-EuNKOPNNx5c5oF85izZ9h6mOdJle7LDXifvWxcF8T-k2vWMsFl/s1600/Photo-11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_ZiU6PyXz56ezn6j3UqE1lSN-QLPbrT-7eUfoLKISHRvjjZ89rLzxWaGYXI3WQl1W7m-9rWHMmr_IGHmghFi3JwFJ-EuNKOPNNx5c5oF85izZ9h6mOdJle7LDXifvWxcF8T-k2vWMsFl/s320/Photo-11.JPG" width="320" /></a></i>The culinary star of the evening is the mufleta - a crepe, spread and dripping deliciously with butter and honey - the first chametz after Pesach. Many other traditional sweets and delicacies, mint tea and fruit fill the table as well. </i><br />
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<i>This year, ironically, I was going to skip trying to go. Weary of never finding a celebration to go to, I said, maybe next year !! But the heavens were smiling on me and as I sat at my computer I heard the unmistakable sounds of Mimouna in my neighborhood. I even wrote about it on Facebook. Finally I decided to go out and walk down the street, to get a closer look. I knew that here in Israel, I COULD just go knock on the door and most likely be welcomed . What I didn't know was that the tradition of Mimouna is to leave your door open and welcome guests without their needing invitations. </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWyfemyARSxuuTS0kB6U-H7gyWCa9kJc3GH0Z9fP0EQ_k4TFDQDYOEtRhPDBI6feD3PTvkQ06l0lxV9q6INfsCqtGyTzcpkw46Pg7EDX1f1D9t3pLNPqYSJlTjXnQNHb1Ig5n9j3IFzBv/s1600/Photo-0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWyfemyARSxuuTS0kB6U-H7gyWCa9kJc3GH0Z9fP0EQ_k4TFDQDYOEtRhPDBI6feD3PTvkQ06l0lxV9q6INfsCqtGyTzcpkw46Pg7EDX1f1D9t3pLNPqYSJlTjXnQNHb1Ig5n9j3IFzBv/s320/Photo-0024.JPG" width="240" /></a><i>And that's exactly what happened. As I drew near the house with all the music (just 2 doors down), I was waved into the home with open arms and special hospitality. I felt like I was the honored guest ! (And in fact I was ! ) As is the custom I was led to the table laden with food, a mufleta was prepared for me, and offered with great delight and fanfare. As I ate it, honey and butter dripping down my fingers, many of the guests came up to me to ask after my well being, leading me to the mirpeset where men were singing and chanting tradtional songs, with the music of the oud blending in with their voices. It was very sweet. </i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjiZMQpKRaicACfbozLMHIy2bTZwszQZ1EMU_FfURl6-aKaegogC6Lp18LiGRhv-AKoQ3uoxz917rXgunHvG4PxeQh3AKFCraQu22i8WnXVPTZLABn53aPOO7vCjeNHJkhMj97_6cW_7Et/s1600/Photo-13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjiZMQpKRaicACfbozLMHIy2bTZwszQZ1EMU_FfURl6-aKaegogC6Lp18LiGRhv-AKoQ3uoxz917rXgunHvG4PxeQh3AKFCraQu22i8WnXVPTZLABn53aPOO7vCjeNHJkhMj97_6cW_7Et/s320/Photo-13.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>That's Mimouna... a very sweet tradition, with sweet food and sweet people. I am so glad I finally had the privilege of joining in, meeting my neighbors in such a special way. </i><br />
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<i>I share these pictures with the permission of the family, even knowing it was my first attempt at photographing with my cell phone ! ha! They look more like impressionist paintings than photos but I hope you enjoy them. I was even given permission to photograph the women patting out and cooking the mufleta crepes in the kitchen. </i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">It was a chag sameach !!</span></i></div>
Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-15312034540286331542011-10-24T22:27:00.003+02:002013-07-28T19:03:05.011+03:00The Gates of Jerusalem<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mGLn7ibhbxM/TqM84VrDUJI/AAAAAAAADZQ/pd6FbGN1BtI/s1600/STA50585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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I have to admit, I am rather captivated by doors and gates. I find them<br />
artistically beautiful, architecturally intriguing.....and I am certain that if they could speak, they would have fascinating stories to tell.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zLEgTQe5Vgw/TqVlY2fqfPI/AAAAAAAADZo/u99zGurrDE0/s1600/af.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zLEgTQe5Vgw/TqVlY2fqfPI/AAAAAAAADZo/u99zGurrDE0/s320/af.JPG" width="320" /></a>Jerusalem is full of enchanting doors and gates. One of my dreams of owning my own home here in Jerusalem is to have a bright blue fence and gate or door ..somewhere at the edge of town but not too far out..a little garden. In my dreams for sure.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dx9E7SsU7PU/TqSGAvkzLRI/AAAAAAAADZg/l2Z3BO_ALYg/s1600/890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dx9E7SsU7PU/TqSGAvkzLRI/AAAAAAAADZg/l2Z3BO_ALYg/s320/890.JPG" width="275" /></a>Most stories about the Gates of Jerusalem are about the Old City Gates (e.g.. Jaffa Gate) or about historical gates of Jerusalem. Some are about the artistic gates of places like beautiful Ein Karem.<br />
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<i>This</i> story is about everyday gates in my neck of the woods..an older untouched part of the City..(although that <i>is</i> changing a little...the neighborhood is slowly becoming "gentrified" and soon some of the interesting charm of yesteryear may disappear.)<br />
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The area is not economically poor but it is not upscale or well to do either..just common everyday homes and streets of Jerusalem - mostly a community of Jewish immigrants who fled neighboring Arab countries such as Iraq. There once was a train running just at the edge of the apartment buildings...the tracks and emek (valley) still there. Often on a Shabbat afternoon, I walk the length of it. On Lag B'omer, it is alight with bonfires and at other times, simply a gathering place for fun. In the next neighborhood those tracks and grasses have given way to beautification; it does look very nice and modern, and I think we are next for the development - one reason I wanted to capture some of the common but charming pictures of my streets before they disappear.<br />
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Many of these gates are afterthoughts. In the earlier days it seems there was only a low stone wall at the edge of a property. When it became necessary to gate the property, the arch to hold the gate, the gate itself, and the subsequent fencing on top of the stone wall were all added later and of different materials.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-URQTu_oxXxU/TqK-JnkL19I/AAAAAAAADW0/6KSff_sdrB4/s1600/STA50744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-URQTu_oxXxU/TqK-JnkL19I/AAAAAAAADW0/6KSff_sdrB4/s320/STA50744.JPG" width="288" /></a>Some gates and walls have been remodeled and are stylish but some are<i> very </i>makeshift - funny and funky. Additionally, there are those that are thought out and symmetrical with the whole landscape and those that are innovative and modern. Each is unique - almost no two alike and <i>all</i> are interesting. Each innovative creation (or lack thereof) gives a snaphot of the various owners (though not necessarily the current one). As I walk though my area, I often wonder what the story was for this one or that one. I surely wish these gates and walls could talk. oy voy voy...what would we hear??<br />
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I have included a few here on the blog main page, but please go to my <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/mkfremont/GatesOfJerusalem2?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCKSL4rLr4Lvy1QE&feat=directlink">picasa website</a> for a slideshow and/or album of many more. Enjoy !<br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-51702156473311175592011-10-19T01:47:00.009+02:002013-07-28T20:39:12.433+03:00Gilad Gilad - ברוך שובך - Welcome Back !<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We are rung dry again as a nation. Torn between moments, torn between emotions. <i>Hetze Hetze</i> - Half Half. Elated that our son and brother Gilad has come home to us at last; distraught that the price paid was the release of terrorists with blood on their hands.<br />
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There have been so many articles written, so much debate. But as always, I will write my piece from the inside out. I am sitting at my computer feeling the palpable relief and joy from a day of watching Gilad come home at the same moment as I am hearing the celebratory fireworks of the arab villages around me - those who are delighted in the release of the terrorists. I cannot easily describe what that feels like. Each explosion of their celebration cuts into my heart. The moment feels like an oxymoron.<br />
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I am one of those people who believe this was the right thing to do...hands down. It was an enormously tough decision for Bibi Netanyahu. He was surely between the proverbial rock and a hard place, but in my opinion, he showed extraordinary leadership to do what he did. At the same time I understand the grief and feelings of betrayal families whose loved ones have been murdered must be feeling at this moment. Their pain must be terrible, reopening wounds that never heal anyway. There were 2 terrorists he allowed released that horrified me and I found their freedom to be completely inexcusable. I don't understand his reasoning,, but I am not the PM (thank God) and perhaps there are things I don't know about it. I most certainly don't agree with everything Bibi does; nonetheless, today I am proud of Israel.<br />
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It was, I believe, a window of opportunity that presented itself and had to be acted upon quickly. Hamas was humiliated by the apparent success of Abbas in the UN - they had to do something to bring credibility to their "organization." Even though they appear not to want to be in the "game", nothing could be further from the truth. If they were going to remain one of the players, they would have to capitulate on some of their demands. At the same time, Egypt's military, trying desperately to hold on to power before the Muslim Brotherhood gains a bigger piece of the pie, and before Hamas relocates from Syria to Egypt, had another window opened. Israel HAD to act. We held firm on the big guns that Hamas wanted, and they had to give in. Hamas never gives in. They were desperate...and we had to move in at that moment. <br />
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The political right is considerably upset about a perceived victory for Hamas, even Fatah, and terrorism in general. They are certain this will result in more terrorism, emboldened by the release of the murderers, these terrorists, they are certain, will not hesitate to return to their vile deeds. I am neither stupid nor naive. I live here. I have been shot at by Palestinian terrorists, their bullets shattering glass at my feet, pushed off the road by arab terrorists wanting me dead in the ravine; and without going into detail I have been in the hands of Hezbollah in Lebanon. I realize the potential as well as the next person.<br />
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But we cannot live on feared future scenarios, nor the exaggerated bravado of terrorists and their leaders. Our strength is in the fact that <i>today </i>we cared enough about one soldier's life to risk. That's it. Today we should be proud. When the Israeli officer goes to battle he does not send his men to fight, he goes first and says "follow me." Don't be fooled by the loud voices that want to distract. Today Israel said "follow me" and whether they voice it or not, the world, even our enemies took notice.<br />
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Miki Goldwasser, whose son was murdered by Hezbollah terrorists, said this: "<i><a href="http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-4136374,00.html">Today is our victory day. The day where we decided that our values and our confidence in the righteousness of our way shall guide us. ..they did not win, and they know it."</a></i><br />
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In fact, Hamas itself, and Islamists throughout the Arab countries, <a href="http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2011/oct/27/hamas-leader-praises-israels-strength-in-prisoner-/">recognized the strength that Israel displayed,</a> the morality of the value placed on human life, and were envious. Two of many statements issued by our enemy were these: "<i><a href="http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2011/oct/27/hamas-leader-praises-israels-strength-in-prisoner-/">This is a pillar of Israel's strength - to wage a war to free one man, to free a thousand prisoners for him.</a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_332645127">" and </a></i><a href="http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2011/oct/27/hamas-leader-praises-israels-strength-in-prisoner-/">"I wish I were Gilad Shalit; I wish my country cared so much about me</a>"<br />
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One could argue about all the fine points. The critics have screamed to high heaven about how terrible this "deal" was...how could Israel this, and how could Israel that? ....telescoping in on only one segment of the unfolding drama. Tunnel vision. They are so caught up in their despair and criticism that they fail to see that Israel did a good thing.<br />
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But even worse...they are so caught up with their future prognostications of doom that they failed to see the face of one of our sons. Though etched in signs of an awful reality that we will never know...there was an unmistakeable look of wonder on Gilad's face. There was that smile that must have felt like a dream. Physically weak and exhausted, emotionally struggling to maintain, Gilad's courageous and explicit answers to the cruel and heartless interview forced upon him by Egyptian journalists was the real picture of what happened today. <br />
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We can argue all the fine points tomorrow. But today Gilad was kulanu כולנו - all of us..<i>Am Yisrael - the people of Israel ..</i>full of wonder and as if in a dream.<i> </i>We are proud of you Gilad and so happy and relieved to see you home safely. <br />
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And I am proud of Israel. <i>Am Yisrael chai</i> - עם ישראל חי -<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;"> </span>the people of Israel lives !<br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-87238222325036383562011-07-24T02:25:00.001+03:002013-08-07T12:24:31.383+03:00The Kikars of Jerusalem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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They are called "round-abouts" in Britain, "traffic circles" in the USA, but here in Israel it is a "kikar" (plural is probably kikarot).<br />
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Technically kikar means "square" as in Safra Square near City Hall Jerusalem. But ..the traffic circle is well..i guess - silly me...a circle is not a square is it? ... UNLESS, of course, it's in Israel. <br />
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Ok, here's the logic...i think!. A public square is where people gather, nachon? so...a traffic circle is really a square for automobiles and autobuses to gather..for a brief moment anyway..... except...well, in the this case it's not a <i>square but </i>a <i>circle</i><i>.</i>.. i guess it is easier for the autos to manuever. ....Simple isn't it?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kikar Safra Jerusalem (Wikipedia)</td></tr>
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We have some famous ones...Kikar Zion at the bottom of Ben Yehuda midrahov (pedestrian mall), and as I mentioned, Safra Square at the Iryia (City Hall) Jerusalem. Neither of these is a "traffic circle" but are popular large or elaborate squares where events are held.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c4/Rabin_Squre_eco_pool.jpg/800px-Rabin_Squre_eco_pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c4/Rabin_Squre_eco_pool.jpg/800px-Rabin_Squre_eco_pool.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kikar Rabin in Tel Aviv (Wikipedia)</td></tr>
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In Tel Aviv, there is Kikar Rabin, also a very large public square for events, and with a long history.<br />
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However, Tel Aviv's Kikar HaMedina IS an actual traffic circle, an enormous one, lined with upscale boutique stores and restaurants. And the center of the circle, which could be beautiful, has a few trees but mostly unattractive parched dirt..not even grass. There are walkways through it; I think it's a location for homeless to congregate and sleep. Really, Tel Aviv you could do better than that at the most famous shopping kikar in the country !!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kikar HaMedina (Visual Travel)</td></tr>
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But really, what I wanted to write about were just the everyday traffic kikars of Jerusalem..scattered as they are throughout the City, in every neighborhood, on every street. Most of them are good directors of traffic, some have interesting side shows like the one in Giva HaTzarfatit, (French Hill). Right along side the circle, at the edge of the stone sidewalk one can find an industrial scale..which is working. People stop by and weigh themselves, their children, pets, packages and you name it. What a riot<br />
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Directions are given in Jerusalem by landmarks more than by street names, and kikars play a big role in directions. "Go to the kikar at the bottom of the hill and take a right." Almost all of them are maintained with flowers and trees, are frequently updated with seasonal changes. Some are very beautiful. I have included a few photos of the kikars of Jerusalem, here and on <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/mkfremont/KikarsOfJerusalem?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIr8iobNyP20yAE&feat=directlink">this picasa link</a> because I enjoy them, and want you to enjoy them too !!<br />
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I have featured only a few, some of them to also showcase.the surrounding neighborhood - the street itself, the walls, the apartments with Jerusalem stone as our primary and required building material. Beautiful Jerusalem. From time to time I may snap some more pics of other kikars and post a notice on the blog. <br />
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Obviously the next best thing would be to come to Jerusalem and see for yourself!<br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-40181371516988592782011-06-14T22:23:00.009+03:002011-06-24T19:23:29.333+03:00Another Israeli Bus Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1G_hUhDlgSisIitQIS7VxMdpotEmkragc_mh-MUant7x1oyGhI_8-FMmPammDoukBk_IdykkYawf051-em-cxYxb-ibR1J6VjoJ-VvLDn3q23WwU724JLiOl_82iQFL-yLTj2QRra1eG/s1600/STA50166-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">"<img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1G_hUhDlgSisIitQIS7VxMdpotEmkragc_mh-MUant7x1oyGhI_8-FMmPammDoukBk_IdykkYawf051-em-cxYxb-ibR1J6VjoJ-VvLDn3q23WwU724JLiOl_82iQFL-yLTj2QRra1eG/s200/STA50166-2.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I love Israeli bus stories....i've shared some over the years..... the t<a href="http://fromthehillsofjerusalem.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-isnt-legal-is-it.html">axi driver who cut off the bus</a> to deliver a passenger the bus driver had left standing in the dust, the <a href="http://fromthehillsofjerusalem.blogspot.com/2010/02/only-in-israel-stories.html">woman who handed her baby to an old man on the sidewalk</a> while she loaded the stroller, and the bus driver slammed shut the doors and took off, leaving a bewildered old man with a baby on the sidewalk and a hysterical mother (and passengers) on the bus. <a href="http://fromthehillsofjerusalem.blogspot.com/2010/02/only-in-israel-stories.html">I even had to direct a bus driver</a> one time, one who didn't know the route. Then there are those I haven't mentioned like the <a href="http://www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/125537">bus driver who stopped the bus outside the Merkaz HaRav Yeshivot</a>, asking the passengers if they minded that he talked for a minute about his nephew who was one of the tragic victims of the terrible pigua at the yeshiva the night before.<br />
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Most of the time the buses in Jerusalem drive me mad. They are always late, very very late, they run 2 or 3 buses together instead of spacing them out, the passengers are, ummm, not always on their best social behavior to put it mildly - talking loudly on their cell phones, blocking the aisles with enormous agalot, eating, glaring, shouting, etc.. Tonight however, it was all redeemed (at least until tomorrow. :)<br />
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I boarded my #18 bus and walked to the back where often an empty seat or two get overlooked. Standing at the back door was a young secular man, playing his heart out on the guitar, and singing. Now this wasn't any just-horsing-around, this guy was GOOD, and he was having a GOOD time. The song was a really familiar popular song that i couldn't quite place, and i actually don't remember if it was an american or israeli song (i know i know !), but as he entered into a familiar chorus, the whole bus load of people belted it out with him...not just joined in... <i>belted it out</i> at the top of their lungs.<br />
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We quickly arrived at the next bus stop and he moved - i thought to let someone out - but instead, he and a few of his friends bounded off the bus. Amazingly, he was still playing the guitar as he leapt to the sidewalk. I was really disappointed I had missed the concert !! Just then the entire bus load of passengers burst into applause. As the driver slammed shut the doors i noticed the very orthodox, perhaps hasidic rabbi, who had departed at the same stop, walked over to the guitarist/singer, back slapping him and grinning. (See, we do get along sometimes...:)<br />
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Only in Israel. Made up for all the rotten bus rides i've had. That's what Israel does to you...those precious "Only in Israel Moments" make it all worthwhile.Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-8285925878718234812011-06-10T18:46:00.007+03:002013-07-28T23:42:21.381+03:00An Afternoon in the Judean Hills<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking over the Judean Hills from HS Winery</td></tr>
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Recently i spent some time in the Judean Hills with some friends, visiting Tavlin, an amazing spice store in the Eshtaol Forest (tavlin is the hebrew word for spice) and the Hans Sternbach winery in Givat Yishayahu, where we had a delicious lunch. I must say, i think i was too relaxed, too in awe of the beauty of the hills, too lost amongst the fragrances of the spices, and .. too much enjoying the wine and lunch to take good pictures for a story.<br />
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Which means of course that i have to take a second trip with pictures and story in mind. Here are 2-3 photos to tease you. In addition to the tavlin and the wines, we made a stop in Har Adar, where a craft and clothing fair was held in individual homes rather than under one common roof. What an idea ! It was fun to drive through the lovely mountain town of Adar and enter various homes to enjoy them. No pics at all from there though. <br />
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<i>By that time, the wine...had settled in.. :)</i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Wine tasting with Adam, who teaches us about the various wines of HSW</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138; font-family: inherit;">Tavlin Spice Store in the Eshtaol Forest</span></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.israelreservation.com/tours/cooking.htm">Photo</a> from <a href="http://israelreservation.com/">israelreservation.com</a></td></tr>
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-26388610870198096132011-05-30T11:21:00.002+03:002011-05-30T11:28:25.927+03:00Sefer Torah Dedication in Katamonim<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xWn0IVTify8/TdrySewc3kI/AAAAAAAAC4g/fJFF7xBpz5c/s1600/STA50757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xWn0IVTify8/TdrySewc3kI/AAAAAAAAC4g/fJFF7xBpz5c/s320/STA50757.JPG" width="220" /></a></div>I promised i would write about the events of Katamonin, specifically the Sefer Torah procession of last week. In Jewish tradition, when a new Sefer Torah (Torah Scroll) is dedicated to a synagogue, before it is placed in the Ark of that beit knesset (synagogue), there is a procession down the streets - escorting the Sefer Torah to it's home. It's a lovely tradition, colorful, meaningful, and fun. The Sefer Torah is carried by various honored individuals and under a canopy. It is escorted by songs, dance, brachot (blessings) and usually the young boys carry torches. Here in Jerusalem, at least the procession last week, the real fire torches were replaced with torch like lights.<br />
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I don't know what beit knesset was receiving this new Scroll, although by the sign on the side of the van with the loudspeakers apparently this and other beit knesset are assisted by an organization which provides the equipment and coordination for the procession. <br />
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Actually I was in my apartment at my computer and heard the music and the loudspeakers. Of course, I had to investigate, and when i ran up the terrace to the street where the music was coming from, I discovered the parade. People filled the street and sidewalk, walking along with the procession. Twice the van broke down, the loudspeakers stopped functioning, the lights were out...and people waited. Most importantly, cars and buses also waited, as this is a busy but very narrow thoroughfare and bus route. At one point I counted 8 buses lined up waiting for the procession to pass so they could get through. All I could think was how glad i was that i wasn't ON one of those buses in a hurry to get somewhere !! It was however, coordinated with the police as there were police vehicles at the front and back of the parade.<br />
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I've been to many Sefer Torah dedications and each one is special for its own reasons. This one was special because it was in my neighborhood, an unexpected simcha (happy event) to enjoy and join in. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m8rPYTXkH8M/TdryMpHMSFI/AAAAAAAAC4c/fpUbSka-BAE/s1600/STA50754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m8rPYTXkH8M/TdryMpHMSFI/AAAAAAAAC4c/fpUbSka-BAE/s320/STA50754.JPG" width="270" /></a></div>For a few more pictures of the procession on Rh.Yosef ben Yozer click <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/mkfremont/TorahScrollOnBenYoser?authkey=Gv1sRgCP2TgIrA0I7WSQ&feat=directlink">here</a>Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-14166997786753159532011-05-26T12:20:00.006+03:002013-07-29T19:56:56.294+03:00The Shesek<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've always said my Jerusalem neighborhood is colorful - full of rich mizrachi tradition and wonderful neighbors. This afternoon as i came home, one of my neighbors called me over and presented me with a sakit (bag) of shesek (loquat) from his tree. As i thanked him i realized the tree in my own yard was brimming with ripe and unpicked fruit. It got me thinking about the fruit of this Land.<br />
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<i>Not long after my neighbor's gift i heard a great commotion on the street above me, with brachot and singing emanating from the loudspeakers, blanketing the neighborhood. A Torah scroll dedication was in progress. I ran up and took several pictures as the Torah was being escorted to it's home in some nearby beit knesset (synagogue). I will share about THAT and the pictures in another post.</i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIVlVRi3creoVnPcE1Na4mW5qjOTWzWxStUYQ12PckVgdTlHOGuMNaa3ed2TJ95GMHsAelqpzd-Uq_BnDAuI_965tIb9XpH8Y3aL26m1tHI05NVPgScDM6TMoNSMt2xS-OTubXF-T_UPx/s1600/STA50728-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIVlVRi3creoVnPcE1Na4mW5qjOTWzWxStUYQ12PckVgdTlHOGuMNaa3ed2TJ95GMHsAelqpzd-Uq_BnDAuI_965tIb9XpH8Y3aL26m1tHI05NVPgScDM6TMoNSMt2xS-OTubXF-T_UPx/s320/STA50728-1.JPG" width="287" /></a><br />
..but first the shesek.<br />
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The Shesek tree bears it's fruit in late spring and the little oval orange shesekim are sweet and juicy and a favorite amongst Israelis. (both people and birds !! ). Shesek trees are all over Israel, in yards and home gardens and have deep green large broad leaves that protect the clusters of fruit. When you pick the shesek you have to clip the stem above, otherwise the inner fruit is already exposed ready to peel the skin (if you wish) or eat !! Inside are 3 shiny large seeds..(which..of no importance - float ! when dropped in water)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3tH64yd3X7oh5iva7zhxK4ukKKIU92sGgsgoVRs_Bprn7hs8fZn-Q9PHIW7hZobSdfpJ1wZB_ZqOLg24UaIIAv4b8ctoPaO_U_vuo9AAlyMdp_w56G9a-ekj9hv4a2xRAlVMSPou2zGQ/s1600/STA50734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3tH64yd3X7oh5iva7zhxK4ukKKIU92sGgsgoVRs_Bprn7hs8fZn-Q9PHIW7hZobSdfpJ1wZB_ZqOLg24UaIIAv4b8ctoPaO_U_vuo9AAlyMdp_w56G9a-ekj9hv4a2xRAlVMSPou2zGQ/s320/STA50734.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Here are a few <a href="http://food.lizsteinberg.com/tag/loquat/">shesek recipes from Liz Steinberg</a> from her Tel Aviv based food blog <a href="http://food.lizsteinberg.com/">Cafe Liz </a>. Note: Even though some shesek can be slightly tart (depending on the variety), they can usually be substituted for apricot or peach in recipes.<br />
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Liz's recipes include among others:<br />
<a href="http://food.lizsteinberg.com/2009/05/17/loquat-peach-waffles/">Loquat Peach Waffles</a><br />
<a href="http://food.lizsteinberg.com/2009/05/02/creamy-fruit-dessert-with-loquats-strawberries-and-cream-cheese/">Creamy fruit dessert with loquat and strawberries</a><br />
<a href="http://food.lizsteinberg.com/2009/04/28/savory-roasted-loquats-and-plums-with-rice/">Savory roasted loquat and plum</a><br />
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These pictures here on the blog are mine, but because others must agree it is such a pretty fruit i have also included a rather fun <a href="http://fiveprime.org/hivemind/Tags/fruit,loquat">Flicker Photo link</a> celebrating the shesek !<br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-12823887518431219772011-05-23T00:00:00.003+03:002016-03-15T22:19:45.218+02:00Lag B'Omer 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Motzei Shabbat began the semi holiday of Lag B'Omer in Israel (and elsewhere too for that matter). It is the 33rd day of Counting the Omer from Pesach to Shavuot... (intended to link Pesach - remembering the Exodus from Egypt to Shavuot - the Giving of the Torah). During the first 32 days of Counting the Omer, some prohibitions are in place and a <a href="http://www.jewfaq.org/holidayb.htm">semi-mourning period</a> exists due to a plague that occurred during the Rav. Akiva's lifetime.<br />
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At any rate, on the 33rd Day, the semi-mourning period ends and observant Jews throughout the world celebrate by lighting bonfires, singing and dancing throughout the night. In Israel, non-religious Jews don't usually participate, but all over Israel, bonfires light the night, smoke fills the air, and partying, singing and dancing continues until the wee hours of the morning, as thousands of traditionally and religiously observant Jews delight in the lifting of restrictions and the end of the mourning period. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFmbqXSBSvB8xGFe08hamQHBuEBB6AzVIPR5i8Y63D8RlwP0izW-4AiVI-mF-OlrNgX6CoET5Hja8fV8UXezNLU_w3Duv0PlfVWcmDhxsowKWhkqK28PZ6Ne63tR16Axdb-m00GmmQ9zr/s1600/STA50729-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFmbqXSBSvB8xGFe08hamQHBuEBB6AzVIPR5i8Y63D8RlwP0izW-4AiVI-mF-OlrNgX6CoET5Hja8fV8UXezNLU_w3Duv0PlfVWcmDhxsowKWhkqK28PZ6Ne63tR16Axdb-m00GmmQ9zr/s200/STA50729-1.JPG" width="200" /></a>My neighborhood, a richly traditional mizrachi community, was no exception.<br />
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Coming home late from coffee with a friend, I discovered the Party a few meters from my front door...so...like any good neighbor, i went out and joined the merrymaking about 2am...it lasted til 4am...<br />
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Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-60378707596238340102011-04-30T15:33:00.003+03:002011-05-01T00:25:32.622+03:00Mmmmm - Israeli Fresh Garlic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_sB07gtTJMeV4qMjPFZRjcuIXrzarABrtVxXTSQVJ8iqeTGQTsUwID8mF_IB87yohJ05DrVSqJDYrluNUwulbtM_o0Fp56yWuu7wFvgcOOQcelk5_5Sbl3_e2lXD5D2VVChKOGBmcW_p/s1600/STA50689-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_sB07gtTJMeV4qMjPFZRjcuIXrzarABrtVxXTSQVJ8iqeTGQTsUwID8mF_IB87yohJ05DrVSqJDYrluNUwulbtM_o0Fp56yWuu7wFvgcOOQcelk5_5Sbl3_e2lXD5D2VVChKOGBmcW_p/s200/STA50689-1.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>Some things are almost too pretty to use, but...how else can i make my shakshuka?<br />
<br />
Spring in Israel means many things of course, but one of them is the delightful, delectable, gorgeous (and did i say fragrant?) purple w/green and white stalks <b><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">fresh! garlic.</span> </b> <br />
<br />
I almost missed them this year...not that i wasn't aware they were on the scene and in the markets, it's just...well, i had a lot on my mind and many things to do, and simply mused over the idea that maybe i would skip them this year. <br />
<br />
Thank God i woke up in the nick of time to rush to the shuk (yes even though they are available in the supers, one does NOT buy fresh garlic anywhere else but the shuk. For pete's sake. No way.) It was the end of the season, but LOOK! how beautiful they still are. I even went back the next day and bought some for a "present" for a friend who was traveling outside the country and knew she would be sad to think she missed them. <br />
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I only hang a few to dry but one can buy fresh bulbs without the stalks for a while yet....beats the chemically dried white variety imported from China...<br />
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The taste of the fresh garlic is similar and used in all recipes that call for garlic, but..it is delicate, slightly sweet and more mild. It also stays sweet and doesn't become bitter when sauteing it. I like to use cloves of fresh garlic when pan frying or poaching salmon. Very nice. <br />
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To honor the fresh garlic i've included a couple of recipes. One, fresh garlic confit, from a wonderful blog called Israeli Kitchen, and a video for a simple chicken/fresh garlic dish from Ynet Foods (Phyllis Glazer.) My friend Micha Finkelstein sent me this video and while I haven't made it yet, he said it was wonderful and i trust his culinary opinion! Enjoy! <br />
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The Confit: <br />
<a href="http://www.israelikitchen.com/everyday-cooking/recipe-fresh-garlic-confit/">http://www.israelikitchen.com/everyday-cooking/recipe-fresh-garlic-confit/</a><br />
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The Video:(Video is in Hebrew but there is an English writeup if you click on this hyperlink -it will remove you from the blog to the webpage)<br />
<a href="http://translate.google.co.il/translate?hl=en&sl=iw&u=http://www.ynet.co.il/articles/0,7340,L-3867013,00.html&ei=4_m7TbuOHIrE8QPn_NHDBQ&sa=X&oi=translate&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CB0Q7gEwAA&prev=/search%3Fq%3D,%2B%25D7%25A8%25D7%25A6%25D7%2595%25D7%2599%2B%25D7%259E%25D7%25A1%25D7%2595%25D7%2592%2B%25D7%2598%25D7%2591%25D7%25A2%25D7%2599%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26hs%3DF4o%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26prmd%3Divns">Chicken/Fresh Garlic</a><br />
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<span onmouseout="_tipoff()" onmouseover="_tipon(this)"></span>Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-45637104709794355452011-03-20T01:32:00.029+02:002011-06-14T23:03:07.051+03:00The Package<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFMXBGCAY3cXNyX5uRi0VZsbyo1dv-IWagaPJxSGeOWqBFel7htUGnzZrgwItPb_KXdXUjDt0vqeMTiYCKHhI6qtmtMZHzdbLIhdEk9QXjnZ_hiODuQRUVQw_UA6v9zoWpidnf-KIG8l5/s1600/STA50681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: small; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFMXBGCAY3cXNyX5uRi0VZsbyo1dv-IWagaPJxSGeOWqBFel7htUGnzZrgwItPb_KXdXUjDt0vqeMTiYCKHhI6qtmtMZHzdbLIhdEk9QXjnZ_hiODuQRUVQw_UA6v9zoWpidnf-KIG8l5/s200/STA50681.JPG" width="170" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Earlier i wrote about the adventures and challenges of finding addresses, people and places in Jerusalem (Hidden in Jerusalem). One might think it is simply a frustration we could do without. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #ffe599; font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> The truth of the matter lies deeper.</span><br />
<br />
Jerusalem - Israel itself - is a place where one comes, not necessarily to enjoy the finer things of life - though they do exist here - but rather to be challenged to deal with the complexities of it.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I would go even further. If you are a Jew who has made aliyah like myself, you are here for one reason... and that is to come face to face with the issues for which you were brought to earth. Ha! You thought it was simply that one loves and longs for Israel, and that Israel is the only place on earth where you feel at home.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The reality is that the complexity of finding addresses and people and places is a tiny reflection of the REAL life here in Yerushalayim, and the REAL life here in Yerushalayim (and all of Israel) is a TEST. It is frustrating, challenging, confusing, maddening, difficult, mishugana... and deep, sweet, meaningful, warm, rewarding, comforting and brings shalom.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">When "the search" occurs it is only about this question: ..will you persevere until you overcome and find the treasure, or will you give up halfway through? This is why one must have the proper attitude towards it....it speeds the goal of learning to overcome.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Sigh.........so in light of the above, i share the following story.</span><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>The Package</b></span></i><br />
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It doesn't matter that there was a 5 month balygan in the US before the package ever hit the tarmac at Ben Gurion, or that during those 5 months I kept bugging Avi, the postmaster at my neighborhood doar (post office) to look in the back and under the table for my missing package. Here, if the personnel is in a good mood, they will let you come into the package area behind the locked doors, and look for yourself. For 5 months I looked - no package, until I finally wore out my welcome...and so i waited and waited for the "slip" at my mailbox inviting me to pick up my package.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">When the slip finally came, it wasn't a slip at all, but a letter, in Hebrew, addressed to me in Hebrew, even though the package was written entirely in English. It was delivered "next door" not to my mailbox and I discovered it by accident...and that's another story. Hmmm......immediately i knew this would not be routine..</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The letter told me to come to a "special" Post Office in another neighborhood, 2 buses away....because i owed customs on the package. Now, I knew that i didn't owe customs on the package, or more correctly should NOT owe customs on the package, so I called the telephone number listed and they explained to me I had to come there to pay the customs, to come to the G'vat Shaul Post Office and gave me directions... Ha - I wish!!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Luckily a friend gave me a lift to the Post Office, I saw a door marked "customs" but as I approached the door I found it locked. Nevertheless, I spotted a guard and another entrance nearby and went over there. As I entered I asked the guard how to get to the "customs" and was greeted with a sweet Israeli shrug. It only took asking two people "eifo customs?" before i found my way down a hallway and through a door where i could see a counter clearly dealing with such matters.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Finally, I thought, as I waited my turn. When at last I approached the counter with my letter, the woman took it, looked up and began screaming at me - in Hebrew of course. Not knowing exactly what she was saying, I was taken by surprise, and asked Ma? Lama? (what? why?)??? Waving the letter and motioning first out the door and then the opposite direction, out the window, I gathered that the package wasn't here, in this office. Eventually another worker who knew English came over and read the letter and told me no, the package wasn't here but he could tell me sort of how to get there, and proceeded with very long complicated directions...to some other building not on this block. (#$%^#) When I questioned the customs (after all I was STANDING IN THE CUSTOMS OFFICE), he also shrugged, and laughed and said...you must understand that everything in Israel costs money... (..and yes..it does)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">So...i toddled off out the door, down the sidewalk, through the parking lot, and...w**...there was nothing at all looking anything like a post office building ANYWHERE IN SIGHT.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Spotting a restaurant in the bottom of the Post Office and just off the parking lot, I decided to inquire within. I'm telling you if it hadn't been for these guys, I would still be looking. I entered, asking, with my letter if they could tell me where this Post Office address was. The first 2 men took me back to one of the chefs, who pointed with equally long directions ...to the left. I know i looked frustrated, so one of them took me outside, pointed to a building quite a ways away, asked me if i saw this tiny barred window towards the back.. "Yes", I said "I see the window." "Well", he said "if you go around some stairs that are nearby, up into the building from the back...down a hallway, and down some steps, you will be close." OMG, you've got to be kidding.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">But I did. I followed his directions to the T. When i finally got INTO the building, there was only one unlit, very dark stairwell leading to a basement. Hmmm...not sure i wanted to go down there....and I heard workers at the bottom...was it safe? A little nervously i descended the stairs, stepping over the torn up concrete, and almost tripping over some pipes..and found myself in another hallway, with some open docks. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Stopping at the first door on the right, again with my letter in hand, I was waved further down the now open series of docks. Finally I found a large receiving area, and a desk of sorts with a man behind it, looking very bored. Handing him my letter, he nodded, and began the search for my package. Except he couldn't find it. After several long minutes he remembered there were some in a pile on the floor ..and ahhh, there it was! </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">After 5-1/2 months, omg, there was my package.....I could finally have it. ...but...not yet. My customs he said was 200 nis. MAAAAAAAA? (WHAAAAT?) More than - or about equal to - the worth of the package itself. I didn't have 200 nis...how could that be when i was quite sure i didn't really owe anything?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">What he said next caused me to lose it entirely.... moving the package away from me he declared you will have to go to Tel Aviv to pay the customs and you can't have the package until the customs are paid. In my mind i grabbed him by the collar, shoved my face into his face, and screamed I am not leaving here without this package, and I am NOT GOING TO TEL AVIV TO PAY THE CUSTOMS. But...in reality i didn't grab him by the collar, only screaming that i am NOT going to Tel Aviv to the pay the customs... and i burst into tears.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I guess he had never seen anyone do that before....so he did the only thing a certain type of Israeli would do....he looked totally disinterested and...shrugged, turning to the next customer in line. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I tried to explain my frustration to him and finally decided I would take my never-to-be- used, for emergencies only, credit card....(it turned out the Tel Aviv trip was only if I wanted to CONTEST THE CUSTOMS), except....he would only take cash. I had no cash. Sitting in front of me was this package I waited for so long, I could touch it, but I couldn't have it. He was going to save it only 2 days before returning it, but after I pleaded with him, he agreed to hold it a week so I could return with the cash, and then he tossed it on the heap on the floor again...turning finally to the next in line. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Defeated, I left the dock and returned to the street above, tears of frustration rolling down my face. It was then that I decided I could NOT leave G'vat Shaul (the neighborhood) WITHOUT THAT PACKAGE. If I had to rob a bank, I was going home with that package....so I did just that...I robbed my own bank account, where my rent money was gathering, and withdrew the 200 shekels, marched back to the surprised dock worker, shoved the 200 nis in his face, told him someone came and loaned it to me, and left with my package...when he finally found it again......</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It's not that I cry that often....but maybe it was good for me...tears are sometimes necessary when it gets too frustrating, challenging, confusing, maddening, difficult, mishugana..........</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">....and yes, the package was worth it...it was something my daughter sent me. :)</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">oh..btw...Avi told me later I should never had had to pay anything...that the whole thing was wrong. I knew that. Guess maybe I failed that part of the test. :) Still a friar after all these years. !</span>Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-58501541453177447012011-03-18T16:30:00.000+02:002011-03-18T21:34:52.241+02:00HOLY PEOPLE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZn5roy3SKA4WqYsOFQE_007paWfPiF3JR17GN1j25DsTkzh7T8bexaz4RR-FIh3DsK6WgPsSM7aIFhtVa45uJdCDT4IXilgGrpuqlfa74iIorbKn6bnU0_-Cztwx7mviYJ2xTwSRQnjY/s1600/20110312-fogel-fam-bdh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZn5roy3SKA4WqYsOFQE_007paWfPiF3JR17GN1j25DsTkzh7T8bexaz4RR-FIh3DsK6WgPsSM7aIFhtVa45uJdCDT4IXilgGrpuqlfa74iIorbKn6bnU0_-Cztwx7mviYJ2xTwSRQnjY/s320/20110312-fogel-fam-bdh.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCU9F1-3PXzIzSFKo5yY7rrSEBDbVi_Izj5EC7ErL3Usx-65WPIK8eSloxuS0qTJxkLJ1xN9Uj6NfEcXwUMP6hAXlcZzkSEUbwwwweIQyxtC8coiHsdT-5ePfySCAw-iXrM32eiWt7qKb/s1600/49797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCU9F1-3PXzIzSFKo5yY7rrSEBDbVi_Izj5EC7ErL3Usx-65WPIK8eSloxuS0qTJxkLJ1xN9Uj6NfEcXwUMP6hAXlcZzkSEUbwwwweIQyxtC8coiHsdT-5ePfySCAw-iXrM32eiWt7qKb/s200/49797.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>For those who didn't know..the Fogel Family, so brutally murdered last Shabat, were expelled from Netzarim Gush Katif in 2005.Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-43022471237953070672011-03-05T13:27:00.000+02:002011-03-05T14:02:21.108+02:00Shkedia Gives Way to Spring<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuf-gMAq5pjq7cKG-JpmInA5012snZLiBz0nWu2LbZ-skoC0CojAsxI01R1kxRx18Ui_UuNOBWlcYN4_hehpQpHN0WFFrbyX-Ss7lERAx6NqBC4gAhT06aJSrzk_gwCn_puUgnwdvrS9oq/s1600/STA50664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2RdhyphenhyphenNHbvkPoqaN4PphvER7gOiYyEOPRqEpWcUKSdQGe8zhk8tBkrOdFrEX3J8PbgpuTZn-nSgP2nsY0fqNTiHiUQviGARfotxX-xMU2XWFcOBR_AP7d7EKan6UswY52cnFurHyIYTTZ/s1600/STA506491-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2RdhyphenhyphenNHbvkPoqaN4PphvER7gOiYyEOPRqEpWcUKSdQGe8zhk8tBkrOdFrEX3J8PbgpuTZn-nSgP2nsY0fqNTiHiUQviGARfotxX-xMU2XWFcOBR_AP7d7EKan6UswY52cnFurHyIYTTZ/s200/STA506491-1.JPG" width="154" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuf-gMAq5pjq7cKG-JpmInA5012snZLiBz0nWu2LbZ-skoC0CojAsxI01R1kxRx18Ui_UuNOBWlcYN4_hehpQpHN0WFFrbyX-Ss7lERAx6NqBC4gAhT06aJSrzk_gwCn_puUgnwdvrS9oq/s1600/STA50664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuf-gMAq5pjq7cKG-JpmInA5012snZLiBz0nWu2LbZ-skoC0CojAsxI01R1kxRx18Ui_UuNOBWlcYN4_hehpQpHN0WFFrbyX-Ss7lERAx6NqBC4gAhT06aJSrzk_gwCn_puUgnwdvrS9oq/s200/STA50664.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a>It's been one of those weeks from hell and i thought i might share a story or two..but they are too numerous and too sad/unhappy....so instead will try to cheer us all up (me included) with a few pictures of the shkedia in my back yards...and the lovely branch my neighbor (you know the one who says I am the flower) cut for me so i could have the fragrant blossom and beauty in my dira..<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMcQZmne4SuHrCDaeugLQ1cKEsJo6q1Suepnng0n2osr5fbZ6SLpWZU3hs0BNJgWugLUAcqHvDnh4fcNKhVjwwzB5tSafX3hDyaYn71Dsl75fpSfIQr2B0JY9CUbKEler0Zp4XX17Pym4/s1600/STA50668-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMcQZmne4SuHrCDaeugLQ1cKEsJo6q1Suepnng0n2osr5fbZ6SLpWZU3hs0BNJgWugLUAcqHvDnh4fcNKhVjwwzB5tSafX3hDyaYn71Dsl75fpSfIQr2B0JY9CUbKEler0Zp4XX17Pym4/s200/STA50668-1.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-RGnigX-kqgZildiQSdUqhMWTPFcCBjflESrQbrxYBYhyvkiLAXeFuq4bwaooo_3a2Dn5yy6L15MwCRpPdFOQo-6QKxpbv8bdkvibp2Fre8ThMhq1r64gL0bX03mqGvNSlmRv_C0tUjW/s1600/STA50677-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-RGnigX-kqgZildiQSdUqhMWTPFcCBjflESrQbrxYBYhyvkiLAXeFuq4bwaooo_3a2Dn5yy6L15MwCRpPdFOQo-6QKxpbv8bdkvibp2Fre8ThMhq1r64gL0bX03mqGvNSlmRv_C0tUjW/s200/STA50677-2.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-55521630056597132702011-01-21T01:03:00.004+02:002011-01-22T16:53:45.881+02:00Tu B'Shevat 2011<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IxN5J-yDPeE/TTi5EVNGPXI/AAAAAAAACo4/zlUBveoxkS0/s1600/STA50612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IxN5J-yDPeE/TTi5EVNGPXI/AAAAAAAACo4/zlUBveoxkS0/s200/STA50612.JPG" width="180" /></a>Tu B'Shevat - a time to remember our connection to the Land of Israel, planting vineyards and gardens, making the desert bloom, partaking of the fruit of Eretz Yisrael.. This holiday is also referred to as the New Year of the Trees. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IxN5J-yDPeE/TTi5F4wVlAI/AAAAAAAACo8/mG2Ux9GWbyc/s1600/STA50615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IxN5J-yDPeE/TTi5F4wVlAI/AAAAAAAACo8/mG2Ux9GWbyc/s200/STA50615.JPG" width="185" /></a>The day is marked by planting trees throughout the Land, particularly important this year with the forest fires in the Carmel Mountains. Many Sephardi families mark the day with a seder much like the Pesach seder, with brachot over the fruits and the wine. <br />
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I had the privilege once again of attending the seder of some dear friends who live in the center of Israel. It is always a special and sweet time. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IxN5J-yDPeE/TTi5GrQoudI/AAAAAAAACpA/mMsCFrT9PGE/s1600/STA50608-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="108" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IxN5J-yDPeE/TTi5GrQoudI/AAAAAAAACpA/mMsCFrT9PGE/s200/STA50608-1.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><i><b style="color: #38761d;">"and I will restore my people Israel and they shall build the waste cities and inhabit them, and they shall plant vineyards and drink the wine, they shall also make gardens and eat the fruit." (Amos 9:14)</b><br />
</i></div>Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4771294429101266470.post-54614128976279950862011-01-14T15:50:00.002+02:002011-01-14T17:35:40.154+02:00shabbat shalom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='352' height='293' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/WrSnpIcfK9k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WrSnpIcfK9k"></a>Marcia Fremonthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08043278418098030914noreply@blogger.com0