A Moment in Time

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. The wear and tear and fatigue from the never ending battle just to survive is sometimes overwhelming. 

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.  The wear and tear and fatigue from the never ending battle just to survive is sometimes overwhelming.

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). The wear and tear and fatigue from the never ending battle just to survive is sometimes overwhelming.

Nu, why on earth do I live here, you might ask. Fair question, as obviously, I ask myself the same.

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.

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.

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.

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 Eretz Yisrael, this people, my people, Am Yisrael, and always have been. For better or worse, I am here.


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 why I am here.

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.

Unusual Talent / Unexpected Dance

It'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.

The other night I was running some errands in the normally busy German Colony (Hamoshava Germanit) - which I must admit has been abnormally 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 few tourists, made the street an alive and happy place - like it used to be.  It was nice to see!!

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.

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.

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.

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 really was struggling. 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.

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.

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.

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 consciously but it kind of felt like magic! Ha!

So there we were, making our way down the sidewalk like in a slow motion dance - a dance whose steps I certainly 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Life in Israel. It's good.

FIRST MIMOUNA !!

Even before 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 (Chasing the Elusive Moufleta).

For some reason, Mimouna itself remained as elusive at the mufleta that i wrote about ! Until THIS year ! 

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. 

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.  


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. 

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.   

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 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.  

It was a chag sameach !!

The Gates of Jerusalem

I have to admit, I am rather captivated by doors and gates. I find them
artistically beautiful, architecturally intriguing.....and I am certain that if they could speak, they would have fascinating stories to tell.
                                                         
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.

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.


This story is about everyday gates in my neck of the woods..an older untouched part of the City..(although that is changing a little...the neighborhood is slowly becoming "gentrified" and soon some of the interesting charm of yesteryear may disappear.)

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.


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.

Some gates and walls have been remodeled and are stylish but some are very 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 all 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??

I have included a few here on the blog main page, but please go to my picasa website for a slideshow and/or album of many more.   Enjoy !

Gilad Gilad - ברוך שובך - Welcome Back !

We are rung dry again as a nation. Torn between moments, torn between emotions. Hetze Hetze - 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

But we cannot live on feared future scenarios, nor the exaggerated bravado of terrorists and their leaders. Our strength is in the fact that today 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.

Miki Goldwasser, whose son was murdered by Hezbollah terrorists, said this: "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."

In fact, Hamas itself, and Islamists throughout the Arab countries, recognized the strength that Israel displayed, the morality of the value placed on human life, and were envious. Two of many statements issued by our enemy were these: "This is a pillar of Israel's strength - to wage a war to free one man, to free a thousand prisoners for him." and "I wish I were Gilad Shalit; I wish my country cared so much about me"


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.

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.

We can argue all the fine points tomorrow. But today Gilad was kulanu כולנו - all of us..Am Yisrael - the people of Israel ..full of wonder and as if in a dream. We are proud of you Gilad and so happy and relieved to see you home safely.

And I am proud of Israel.  Am Yisrael chai - עם ישראל חי - the people of Israel lives !

10 Reasons why i live in Yerushalayim

10 of the million or two reasons why i live in Yerushalayim

When....

1.I didn't have a refrigerator at least 20 people, even strangers, offered me help, and one of them found me one, bought and delivered it.
2. Some neighbors have a megaphone party in the middle of the night and no one complains.... since i wake up a lot during the night anyway, it's nice to hear the music.
3. We are having a butter shortage because of complications of the overly HOT summer and neither i nor the store workers knew about it when i inquired about the butter.
4. The waiter at the cafe i seldom visit, remembers me, where i sat and what i ordered a few weeks ago (just coffee and some cookies)
5. The same waiter absent-mindly takes the cos mayim (glass of water) i asked for to the table next to me, and then smiles sweetly as if i was his life long friend and he knows of course it is ok and he will bring me another one
6. The arab chef who is now my friend waves to me from the kitchen and sends out special treats for me when i go to that cafe.
7. The flower garden owner tells me i can take whatever flowers i need, he will deliver them and i can pay him whenever i have the money...
8. I recognize the autobus passengers as belonging to my neighborhood even though i don't know any of them and I feel comforted and at home
9. My neighbor, when i tell him i forgot to get my shabbat flowers and am running to get them, tells me that I am the flower.
10. I look around me and am surrounded by Israeli faces and sounds and smells and i know then that everything is ok

A Rosh HaShana Surprise

The Rosh HaShana tradition of giving sweet gifts took a sweet turn this year.

I was sitting at one of the cafes I often frequent, sipping my coffee, when someone set before me an exquisite plate of a honeyed sweet potato slice covered with glistening rimon (pomegranate) seeds, all swimming in some delectable sauce.

Delighted, I asked who/what/why was it coming to me. The server waved towards the kitchen, where Kareem, the main chef was waving and smiling - a Rosh HaShana gift to me.

Kareem is an Arab Muslim, and a wonderful chef, who has become my friend over the months I have been coming to the cafe. The fact that he, a Muslim, was sending me a Jew, a Rosh haShana gift brought tears to my eyes, even as I waved back with a thumbs up toda rabah.

What made it even more remarkable to me is that this man observes Ramadan, fasting during the day, all the while preparing food and surrounded by the sight and smells of his cooking. That must take nerves of steel and a strong faith to do such a thing.

So, if you've ever wondered if co-existence is possible and if anyone truly gets along in this neck of the woods, think of Kareem and his Rosh haShana blessing.

L'Shana Tova

Amazing Invention by 16 yr old Zion Badash

Amazing, Israeli youth. Kol hakavod to Zion.

Sweet Little Country, Israel

What a sweet little country I live in. I received a phone call this morning from an unlisted number and after the boker tov (good morning) greetings we exchanged, some woman launched into a very lengthy and urgent message. Since my Hebrew is..aaah...very poor...I said to her "rak rega" (just a minute or wait a minute) "ani lo me'daberit ivrit" (I don't speak Hebrew)... (well I do, but katsat - a little)

Fortunately, she spoke English and told me she was from the customs department and needed to discuss a shipment coming to me from Germany. ???? (not ME, sorry). After the usual confirming or not confirming the phone number (she did have my number) and the other formalities, she said the following silliest thing, in the typical innocence that is pure charming Israeli.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Avraham?"

I mean...this is Israel. EVERYONE knows someone by the name of Avraham!!

I started to laugh and said just that. I could hear her smiling and she said, yes, now that she thought about it, her brother was named Avraham. But she meant........

Of course she meant in conjunction with whatever this shipment was, or whatever business it seemed to be connected with...which wasn't me or mine.

But it was just sweet. In this tiny country of ours, it felt like a family conversation, and like now I was introduced to her and her brother Avraham, adding to the list of Avrahams I already know.

I also wondered if it was more than a little coincidence since I am about to go the customs department myself, to inquire about a business opportunity.......maybe it was a "sign" or a nudge from heaven..to proceed.

Ya' never know here.....where nudges from heaven are just part of the air we breathe.

When The Heart Cries......

As Israeli Warships enter the Suez Canal, preparing for war against an ancient enemy, the Israeli public is pensive and the always present pain in our heart is starting to awaken. The street, though looking normal, is expressing despair...not just about this situation, but also in lives and hopes and dreams delayed.

Today I am feeling the loneliness that is Israel. And as we face the weeks and months ahead, charting a course in war, we will pull together as a people, insulating ourselves against those who try to destroy us.

I wonder if the collective soul of our people is instinctively mourning without even knowing it, as we have entered into the Days approaching Tisha b'Av, with the specific Nine days beginning midweek.

In the silence of Erev Shabbat we utter this prayer. It was written by Yossi Gispan and Arlet Tzfadia after the brutal murder of two of our soldiers in Ramallah in 2000, and the singer is popular Israeli artist Sarit Hadad. The video maker states that Sarit sang this song after the death of her father. Whether she did or not, Israel stands alone in her battles against ancient enemies. Whether in personal loneliness or collective, as we face the weeks and months ahead of us, only God hears the cry of our heart.

Turning Point 3

Today was Day 3 of a nation wide readiness drill - called "Turning Point 3" - designed to prepare army and citizens in the event of a missile attack. Soldiers were called up to miluim (reserve duty), the appropriate security and police personnel were geared to "practice" whatever it is they are taught to do. Individual citizens were to take shelter wherever they found themselves, either in a miklat (bomb shelter), or a safe room, or wherever was safest around them.

Photo Iranian missile test: SEPAH NEWS VIA ASSOCIATED PRESS

I was at a local sidewalk canion (shopping mall) when the sirens went off. They were barely audible, certainly softer than the Yom haZicharon and Yom haShoah sirens. There was a simultaneous announcement on the radio and television, but quite frankly, if the hour of the drill had not been publicized, very few people would have known it even happened.

Such a stark difference between the drill this morning and our response to it, and our responses to the sirens on our Memorial days. Perhaps we are simply better at mourning our dead than preparing for our future.

Still, there was an air of excited nonchalance (NOT an oxymoron) as the "hour" approached. The "drill" was the talk of the day as we sat, drank coffee and waited. Jokes, light banter, and the familiar camaraderie that exists between us unfolded, but behind that banter I also heard and saw the "something else" that exists between us. It's an unspoken collective awareness of the possible scenarios that might lie ahead, precisely because of the collective memory of what we have already experienced, and what we live day to day. It's our reality.

Approximately 10 minutes before the "event", people started talking a bit louder, an expectation of something about to happen rising in the air. People moved a little closer together, as if together, we would be safer. Actually, that is part of our reality, we are at our best as a People when we are in crisis.

This wasn't a crisis, of course, it was just a drill. But it was a drill that reminded us that we've been through many drills - real ones. The residents of Sderot, and towns along the southern borders, as well as those in the north, have already had many and constant real life exercises to practice. I have had my own runs for shelter when in some of those towns. Sometimes a safe room was available, sometimes we stood under a doorway...like in an earthquake. You do your best.

Today, no one moved. We just continued on with whatever we were doing. There is a miklat there but most of the people in the canion didn't know that. I knew because I have been in it, and like most miklatot, it is full of other things being stored there. And it is tiny. Even if it were completely empty, there would be room for just a very few people, and the rest...would be standing outside I guess.

Most citizens did check on their safe rooms, locate the miklatot in their neighborhoods and at least have given some thoughts to actions and reactions. I finally located mine, but we can't get into it as someone in the building has jammed it full of papers and things.

It's not that we are really nonchalant or lackadaisical....it's just...well, alright already, we know the big one is coming...nuke, earthquake, bolts from heaven.... It's Israel - our minds are already stretched as far as they can go in the survival mode. We do the best we can, that's it, and the rest is up to G-d.

I told my friend Shay that I wanted to write about today, but it was so uneventful there wasn't much to say. He told me that if I was going to write about sirens and shelters I should write about this drill, because, he said, if I wait to write about the next time there was a siren....there was a long pause.... we looked at each other and understood...

ISRAELI PROFILE: ELIRAN SASSON

Meet Eliran Sasson, a young Israeli who recently fulfilled a dream he has had since he was a little boy – owning a motorcycle and biking.

At 23, Eliran is an excellent “master barista” at a fabulous neighborhood coffee shop in Jerusalem. (Shosh Café, Rh. Haserut 20). He is a bass guitarist, having played in several bands, and an aspiring engineer (soon to begin his studies program), but his heart, at the moment, is with his first motorcycle – a very cool “naked road bike.”

I have to admit, when I first heard the term “naked bike” I thought it must be some cute Israeli term, but it turns out that it is a universal word for a bike without metal covering over the various engine & exhaust parts – in other words a bike stripped down to the basics for performance and efficiency.

This long time dream to own a motorbike came to fruition a few months ago, when Eliran secretly began to take lessons towards getting his motorcycle license. (Mothers sometimes don’t want their sons to be bikers!) But soon Eliran’s secret was out in the open, and things quickly progressed from just wanting the license to actually searching for and purchasing that first bike.

Hoping to take mechanics courses designed for motorbike function and repair, Eliran is serious about this new/old love in his life.

I asked him what it was about biking that he loved and his answer was that when he rides the motorcycle, he feels one with the bike, like they are together a unit. He can see everything and feel the wind…it’s a bit like riding a horse, he said. He also likes it that there are fewer traffic and parking problems than when driving a car. Eliran would like to form a group of riders to ride together and tour the country.

Like all Israelis, Eliran served in the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces – army). He was in the artillery corps. And, like most Israelis, after army duty he traveled for a while outside the country. He and some friends went to London where they lived and worked with other Israelis - not at the kiosks selling Dead Sea products, a very popular occupation for traveling Israelis - but for an Israeli entrepreneur who owns a network of food and coffee shops in various London neighborhoods. Orly, the name of the entrepreneur and also the name of her coffee shop, bakery and other places, offers a popular stopover for Israelis in London, and Eliran plied his skill at coffee making there.

I asked Eliran why he chose London when a lot of Israelis travel to India and Thailand and other eastern destinations. He said that his friend had been there a few times, and in Eliran’s words, “had a crush on the place”. Encouraging him to join with him and travel there, Eliran agreed and also "fell in love with the place" – the culture, the architecture, the people.

When he isn’t making coffee and riding his bike, Eliran stays tuned into his music…playing progressive rock with friends, doing a few gigs, and trying to put together a new band.

Some things will change as Eliran begins his studies this summer, but his devotion to biking is a lifetime love affair.

What are his dreams for the future? Eliran pondered my question and then said this: “The long time future is far away…I am concentrating on the immediate future for now… and then I will go wherever life takes me.”

The future in Israel is sometimes uncertain, and life can bring many things. Her young men and women understand this, responding like Eliran did, with wisdom and assurance.

It’s a privilege to know Eliran, and to know that he represents others like him, young men and women who are the future of Israel. Israel is in good hands.

And…I’m waiting until he gets an extra helmet, because I want to take a ride on this bike and feel the wind.

The Tree and the Sea

The Tree
This is one of the beautiful trees that escaped the tree-hacking terrorists from the Iryia (Preoccupied, March 5 posting). The tree shown escaped being cut down last winter because it was on private property...AND - lucky me - is right outside my window!!!

The Sea
I had to go to Tel Aviv today. I hadn't been since last fall and oh my gosh, did I need it!!
(well, I DID have a meeting)


Here's where I spent my day today. (after the meeting!) Swimming prohibited for some reason...early season, no life guards, pollution??

Still ..the breeze, the sun....

From Mourning to Morning

We just completed the observing of Yom HaZicharon, Israel's Memorial Day and the celebration of Yom HaAtzmaut, our Independence Day.

The first day is the day we remember our loved ones who gave their lives for the survival of this nation, and the day we stand with the families who gave the ultimate sacrifice for this Land. Yom HaZicharon is a day of deep sadness, a day when we are permitted to remember and to mourn.

For us, a Land so small and a People so connected, there is not one person or family untouched by the loss of someone in war or in terror attacks. Our history as a People is ancient, but our history in restoring this Land is within our collective lifetime, and the losses are fresh - some just a short 61 years ago, some yesterday. For us, it is ongoing and the sorrow is personal and intense.

Remarkably however, in the fading hours of HaZicharon, a torch is lit, and the Day of Remembering is immediately handed off to a Day of Rejoicing.... rejoicing in our rebirth as a modern nation, rejoicing and celebrating this miracle of our return to the Land of our destiny.

The juxtaposition of the two days is purposeful, because it is recognized that without the sacrifice of those who died, we would not have had the miracle of rebirth. One of the realities of Judaism is expression of the balance between two opposites - things like mourning and joy, mercy and justice - for it is recognized that without the one, the other cannot exist.

So it is with these holidays. The two holidays are linked together, not just on our calendars, but knit together in our collective soul. As a country, we move from somber services and tears to fireworks and BBQ's in an immediate turnaround.

It is not easy. In some ways it seems it is asking a lot of us as a people. I struggle with it. Many struggle with it. Many are unable to make the quick transition.

I am very close to a family who has had many many losses, not all of them war losses, but all connected to this two day period. The sadness of their family at this time of year penetrates my soul, and I find it difficult at first to move forward. Part of me shouts, stop! wait! we need to linger here a little longer.

But the day marches on, the torch has been lit, and slowly, all together as a people, we move out of our mourning into the morning of a different day. I think it would be impossible alone.

You see this is one of the things that defines us as a People and what makes Am Yisrael unique...we do what we do, together, as one. For it would be too much to ask those who have suffered such tragedy to just turn around and change course. But as a People our losses and our joys are shared, and what one cannot do alone can be accomplished together as a unit.

There is yet another secret to Am Yisrael. One might think that it is on the shoulders of those whose loss is less personal, that the families and individuals for whom the loss was deeper are carried. But I think not. It was really the words of my friend in the hours of transition that helped me to move ahead. You see, most of the time it is the strength of those who have lost the most who carry the rest of us. Yet, it comes full circle, as they strengthen us we can strengthen them....the lines are indistinguishable.

It's who we are as a People.

And so, reluctant as I was to move forward just 24 hours ago, by the end of the day today, spending time with many friends, watching fireworks and tekesim (ceremonies), enjoying the wonderful food off the BBQ and seeing them smoking all around the country, I felt, at last, some semblance of peace.

Finally I realize the wisdom of the juxtaposition of the Two Days. Without the collective move into celebration, however slowly and hesitantly we go there, we might be tempted to stay in the mourning. We have other very well prescribed ways to give us the needed times of individual mourning. But as a People, it is necessary for us first to suffer together the sorrow, and then to lift one another up so that we can face tomorrow; it is necessary for us to go forward as One People, Am Yisrael.

Because we are also inseparable from this Land we celebrate, I think it is only here in Eretz Yisrael that the fullness of what I am saying can be fully realized and understood. We are married to this Land - Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael, we are one.

Happy Birthday.

Reflection on Yom HaShoah

Please go to TodayinIsrael for some thoughts on this Day of Remembrance.

More about Boaz

Earlier this week I posted the beautiful song Ke'ilo Kan (As if Here - also known as Fire in Your Eyes) sung by the equally beautiful Boaz Mauda. I say that (about Mauda) not because he is incredibly gorgeous, which he is, but simply because he is a beautiful person.

Photo from http://boazmauda.co.il/

He is only a couple of years on the music scene, but clearly has captured the hearts of Israelis. The passion with which he sings, the deep desire to bring his Yemenite traditions forward, giving expression to some of the most beautiful and haunting melodies and words, and his gentle openness are only a part of what we see in Boaz.

He is also an expession of the tender strength in our young men, something I wrote about at the outset of this blog, and something which Israelis know about our people; it is something we deeply cherish.

Boaz had never sung on stage before a good friend secretly entered him into the competition for the 5th Israeli Kokhav Nolad (A Star is Born) contest - akin to the American Idol show. In fact, Mauda was then a soldier, a goat herder on his kibbutz, and had only sung publically the prayers in the synagogue. Now of course he has represented Israel in the 2008 Eurovision competition and travels world wide singing.

This video gives you a glimpse into his story, and our story, because each one of us is all of us. It is filmed at the 2007 Kokhav Nolad where he was "crowned the "Star". He dedicated his winning song, Menagen Veshar to his mother -the beautiful woman in the wheel chair in the video. Ofra Mauda had muscluar dystrophy prior to Boaz's birth, yet she defied doctors to have this child. Due to complications of the delivery, she sustained physical injury and has been confined to a wheelchair in recent years. Mauda says that both his parents (Shlomo & Ofra), but especially his mother, are the ones who taught him everything, and are his inspiration for determination and willpower. Anything he has achieved, Boaz says, is because of them.

Be sure to watch through to the very end of the video. There is sometimes a pause (a glitch) and then it continues to a beautiful ending. Enjoy.

Ad the winner is...BOAZ MAUDA !!
video by Daily Motion.com

Boaz Mauda

Boaz Mauda, Yemenite Israeli from Kibbutz Elyakim. He, this song, is Israel ...this is who we are.

photo from http://boazmauda.co.il/

Following the Rain

It has rained hard and steady, including enough hail to pile up on the window sills and the ground, since Friday night, shortly after it was announced that Bibi Netanyahu would form the government. Mega lightning and enormous thunder claps made the ongoing event even more dramatic.

The reports are that it will continue to rain through Monday - two more days. Much snow accumulated on Mount Hermon, snow that will melt into the Kinneret in the spring.

How much rain fell directly into the Kinneret has yet to be reported, but more rain is forecast for next weekend.

Do you think these prolonged soaking rains could have anything to do with electing a government that finally means business about protecting this Land?
If you have followed my blog, you already know that I think in the affirmative on this issue.

A Father's Story - Herb Keinon

When I read Herb Keinon's account (JPost) of how he felt during the 15 days his son was in Gaza, I was struck by how parallel his description was to my own intense emotions during the war, yet I did not have a son, a husband or brother there.

Of course I can't really compare my feelings to both his very personal fears and his very personal pride, but there was definitely an loud echo of what he expressed in my own soul.

As I reflected on this, and on my emotions when I visited the wounded soldiers in the hospitals I realized it didn't matter that they weren't my "actual family" because they and the families and close friends surrounding them - they were also mine. The soldiers belong to all of us and they are part of us; Am Yisrael is a People who, though we fight a lot between us at times, we really are as one.

So when he describes his feelings, it is in a little way the feelings of all of us.

Please click on the link below to read the entire article. It has a very sweet ending.

First Person: A father's story of his son at war

Jan. 23, 2009Herb Keinon , THE JERUSALEM POST

"Hello," I muttered into the phone at 7:15 last Sunday morning, after looking at - and not recognizing - the phone number on the caller ID.

"Hallo," a raspy voice answered back, waiting for recognition. When none came, the voice continued: "Abba, it's Yona."

And with those three words a 15-day trauma that began with the IDF's ground operation in the Gaza Strip simply melted away.

"Honey," I giddily screamed to my wife. "It's Yona." The lad was out of Gaza. He was safe and he was sound. Never have I felt more relieved.

Well-ensconced in middle age, I have tasted a good range of life's emotions. I have felt the pain of losing a parent at a relatively early age, the joy of marrying a woman I love, the delight at the birth of four healthy children. I have felt pleasure, bliss, happiness, satisfaction; hatred, pride, envy and disappointment.

I also thought I had pretty much run the scale of all the emotional chords involved in child-rearing. But I was wrong. I never felt anything that came close to the all-encompassing, gut-wrenching worry that comes when one has a child fighting in a war. These were virgin waters, and waters that at times made me feel as if I were drowning. ........

Read the full article here.

Our Boys are Home

Well, our boys are home...out of Gaza, and our feelings are mixed. We are elated to see them safe and healthy, (knowing of course there are still those recovering in the hospitals and homes across the country), and at the same time we all know this was a premature withdrawal, and that they will have to go back in at some not too distant future.

We didn't even know sometimes who was in Gaza until they returned. A dear friend turned up at my local coffee home (this coffee shop is not even my 2nd home, but my 1st home :) ) straight from the front, still in gear. I had no idea he had been called up and sent in. Unfortunately I just missed him, arriving at the shop right after he left, but you can be assured I will go see him as soon as possible.

Somehow, you just have to hug these guys ..then... kol beseder (everything is ok).