A Note In The Kotel

Do you ever find it hard to put pen to paper? Writing letters can sometimes be difficult. How do you express yourself adequately? Use just the right tone? Include all that is needed? When writing a letter to HaShem it gets even harder!

My husband took my son to Jerusalem today and I wanted to give them a note to place in the Kotel. Like most people, I have a lot of people on my mind at the moment plus many hopes and fears. How do you decide which are the most important? Notes placed in the Kotel are supposed to reach HaShem. Would the citation of too minor a worry cause offense? Should one just stick to the bigger issues? Can anybody tell me what the rules are here??!

In the end I chose to write my note on a small square piece of paper – the kind you find in fancy boxes and keep by the phone. I decided that if I had little space available then I would naturally keep the note short, sweet and succinct.

I managed to fit in three sentences which adequately expressed the main things I felt I needed to relay. The note was then taken to Jerusalem and placed in, ‘a nice, comfy spot’ by my son.

Placing notes in the wall is an ancient tradition. The Midrash tells us that the Divine Presence rests on the Kotel and prayers inserted into the cracks between the stones of the wall are felt by many to find their way to the listening and responsive ears of our Maker.

It is strange but once I spoke to my son and established that the note had been taken to the Kotel, I felt a strange sense of serenity and comfort.

Apparently, the sheer number of people placing notes in the Kotel means that the Chief Rabbi of the Kotel has to remove them several times a year. None of them are read but in order to dispose of them in an appropriate manner, they are buried, in the same way as soiled prayer books, tsitsit etc. are.

I hear that anyone around the world can simply click on to a choice of websites these days to cyber-send their note, which then gets printed out and placed in the wall. What a great idea. It is nice to think that people can benefit from such a service and heartening that it must bring such peace of mind to many, even those hundreds and thousands of miles away.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A Contented Moment

It’s the final few weeks of the summer break; the end is in sight. The kids are a little restless.

After a hot, humid day when no-one felt like going out, we ventured out for pizza. The older kids each bought a friend with and we ordered our food then looked for a table. There were many to choose from but all those free were covered in bits of pizza, spilled drink and, predictably, a selection of ants, wasps and flies. I asked if a table could be cleaned for us and the response was typical customer service, Israeli style; I was given a handful of paper towel to wipe down a table myself!

This week my husband returned from the UK. He came with treats for each of us; chocolate, magazines, teabags. It is lovely to have him back home. I asked him to bring me some colored grout from the UK as I prefer it to the grout I can buy locally here. Unfortunately for him, the grout caused a security alert at Heathrow as El Al could not understand why anyone would want to take home such an item. After much discussion his luggage was finally accepted.

Later in the week I sat outside in the shade of the garden, finishing off a mosaic table. As I used the newly delivered grout and watched the table transform itself as the grout accentuated the design, I had a moment of quiet satisfaction. It occurred to me that this new life of ours really is different to the life we left behind and I felt truly blessed. I am out of the ‘rat race’; I have no rush hour stress, I breathe in clean, hillside air, I am able to work from home around the needs of my kids and I live in a friendly community with good facilities. I sat there, thankful to be in Israel and doing something that gives me a lot of satisfaction.

Sometimes it is important to remind ourselves of the things we are doing right. It goes a long way to counteract our experiences at the other end of the scale. Living in Israel we can have days when people are rude to us, bureaucracy weighs us down and seemingly simple tasks take a ridiculous amount of time and effort. It was nice to have my moment of contentment and I shall hold on to that feeling as I go through a week full of frantic pre school preparations, liaisons with the tax office to get my paperwork ready for some new work I am undertaking in September and continued (and so far unsuccessful) sleep training with the baby.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A Forgotten Anniversary

Last year, on the first anniversary of our aliyah, we held a party. We hung up flags, made a load of food and invited people to drop by throughout the day.

This past Shabbat was our second anniversary. Although I knew it was coming up, I forgot to check exactly when, and completely forgot that this Shabbat had extra significance for us.

Shabbat itself was quite ordinary. Apart from my husband being away, we trundled along as we always do. After shul and lunch, my son went out to play football with a friend and my daughter went to one friend’s house and then to another. I did not see her until Havdallah. I had a nap with the baby and then a friend came round with a little play mate for her. They are very sweet together and after toddling around inside, enjoyed investigating the thrills of the garden; discarded toys from the older kids, a ball to kick, a pile of blossom petals to rustle through with glee. Another couple then popped in and we all had Seudah Shlishit together. It was a nice, restful day.

It was not until the afternoon that I realized it was our anniversary. Perhaps after all we had marked it in the best way possible; with friends, relaxation and food.

The anniversary though, did provoke me to take stock of our progress. We have been here for two years now. If I reflect on where I imagined we might be after this time, it is certainly not where we are. We live in a place I would not initially have considered; we have a child I did not anticipate; we work in unexpected fields, I speak Hebrew less fluently than I would have liked... the list goes on.

For all sorts of reasons our aliyah has not turned out quite like I expected it to. That is not to say that I am in any way disappointed, far from it, it is just strange to have spent so long planning something and for events to overtake us quite so rapidly.

Year one was all about settling in and finding ‘home’. Year two was all about our new little Sabresse and finding the best schools for the older kids. So what will year three hold? I have decided that it would be a good thing to set some goals. There are two goals I have right now that I think I can make some progress on over the coming year.

Goal One: To successfully establish both my and my husband’s new businesses

Goal Two: To improve my Hebrew.

This year, I guess, is the year of establishing ourselves; digging in a little, laying stronger foundations. I wonder how we will all fare over the next two years. Only time will tell.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A Day On The Beach

It’s been a while since I ventured out to the coast but today was to be a landmark day; the baby’s first time on the beach.

She had not slept all day and when she refused to give in to her obvious tiredness on the bus I thought she was bound to fall asleep on the beach and miss all the fun. But no. This baby LOVED the beach. Everything about it. My sleep deprived toddler beamed from the moment she arrived, giggled as the waves splashed against her little legs and smiled at the sensation of sand between her fingers and toes.

One thing surprised and saddened me; there was no beach side kosher café at all. Apparently, some have kosher kitchens but all are open on Shabbat, so have no certification.

Tired, hungry but happy, we embarked on our journey home. We bought a supply of snacks then got on the bus. It was crowded. We all split up throughout the bus. I parked the buggy where I could and had to get the baby out, who by now, was exhausted and needed a hug. I was surrounded by bags and the empty buggy. I sat on the floor and slowly she fell asleep.

A lady got on the bus and ended up standing near me. She took one look at me, crouched down with the baby and told me I should be sitting in a seat. I re-assured her that I was fine; I had bags, a buggy and a sleeping baby so moving along the bus was just too complicated.

She just would not allow me to continue sitting on the floor. She marched up to the back of the bus and organized a seat for me. She ushered me down the bus and then, bag, by bag, my belongings were passed down to me and positioned close by. The buggy was then watched and taken care of by a rota of people who made sure it did not roll around or hurt someone.

I ended up sitting opposite my daughter. When the lady next to me realized this, she insisted on switching seats. My daughter, tired out from the beach, got up, rucksack on her back and bag of chips in her hand. As she did so she tipped the packet upwards and they all came raining down on the lap of a man in the opposite aisle. He smiled and brushed the pile away. She finally found her balance and sat down next to me.

I guess, once again, I witnessed another facet of Israeli warmth and their natural love of children. On an average day out the baby will be cooed at and the kids chatted to much more than in the UK. To be honest we were all more or less happy where we were on the bus but to the Israelis, things were just not good enough. Their organization of my family's seating arrangements caused disruption and yet my fellow passengers all quite happily endured spilled chips, bags passed over their heads and being put on buggy watching duty with good spirits.

We got home and emptied our sandy bags out. As I was putting the towels and clothes into the washing machine, the kids asked the inevitable question, ‘Mum, can we go to beach again tomorrow?’

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com

My Tisha B'Av

Tisha B’Av – the anniversary of the destruction of both Temples; the date of multiple expulsions of the Jews and a date to mark the rise of our most recent modern tormentor.

Tisha B’Av, an ominous and important day in the Jewish calendar and yet... a strange kind of a day too. We can drive, watch tv, use the computer – in some ways it feels like a normal day. Yet it is undeniably somber. There does not seem to be a uniform way to mark it, other than fasting and reading the Book of Lamentations.

This year my older kids both had friends around, so the house was busy. I decided to read to them about Anne Frank. We sat down together and learned about a sad episode of our history. They did what kids do; asked questions, came up with ideas as to what they might have done and got enthused about keeping a diary.

My ten year old fasted for the first time. I was so proud of him and he was really pleased with himself too. My eight year old just had a few snacks but also went without for most of the day.

It is hard to fast with a busy house and a little one to amuse but I got through and hastily made myself a nice cup of tea to break the fast with. As they say, you can take the girl out of England but you can’t take England out of the girl!

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Israeli Nurseries - The Smell of Success

On Friday we had a party to celebrate the end of term at nursery. The kids all sat down and enjoyed singing and performing the actions for various songs. They waved coloured squares of material, shook tambourines and waved sparkly shakers. The parents videoed their every move and, being Israeli, chatted throughout, almost drowning out the kids.

When the singing ended the feast began. The kids sat down and munched through a whole range of treats. I watched as, one by one, they emerged from the dining room with chocolate mustaches and sticky hands.

The parents had clubbed together and purchased presents for the three staff. I felt bad because I was unaware of any collection. Perhaps it took place whilst my little one was off sick. They were each given a basket of goodies, but what I felt was more meaningful, was that each of them was given a piece of paper with a personal message on, thanking them for the care they had given the children. The message was written out neatly in gold pen and real effort had been made to make it a special keepsake. The parent who organized the collection read each one out to those present and everyone clapped.

It is at moments like this when Israelis really come up trumps. They have such inherent warmth to them and it is little touches like this that make me proud to be here and have adopted this homeland as mine. I think in the UK the onus would have been on the gift, but here, what was stressed and what will, I am sure, remain in the memories and hearts of the recipients, was the heartfelt thanks they received for what is, after all, extremely hard work.

I have been really impressed by the nursery staff. I chose a small nursery with a family atmosphere. The kids are all very well disciplined; when it is time to watch a video they sit down and don’t get up till the end; when it is time to eat they wait for the prayer before tucking in; when they have finished an activity they are involved in clearing away too. The place is full of music and laughter and the kids obviously enjoy coming.

Having left a tearful toddler with them for the last few weeks I know that my child is being well looked after. I know this because when she returns home she smells of the scent of one of the nursery workers. I guess she must be getting lots of hugs, love and security during tearful moments.

Israeli nurseries, like any others around the world, are good, bad and indifferent. I am so thankful to have found somewhere that I am happy with and that, more importantly, my little one has grown to love and enjoy.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com

Bureaucracy Busting

So, following on from my last blog, today was my Israeli bureaucracy busting day. Unfortunately I had to take my sick baby with me so that provided an added challenge.

So, after queuing half an hour at the bank I presented my passport, ID Card, and Credit Card to the bank, as instructed yesterday. The teller bashed about on the computer, asked colleagues for help and finally told me that they do not provide cash for my particular credit card. He told me that I should visit other banks as they may well provide this service.

In the end it took me four hours in three banks to get cash out and retrieve yesterday’s ‘swallowed up’ cash card. During this time I had to amuse the baby, communicate my needs in Hebrew and stay both patient and sane.

It really does wear you down. You spend on average around half an hour in a queue. This is not a normal queue but an Israeli queue. Because Israeli’s can’t be trusted to queue in a fair and cordial manner, the banks have installed machines that give out numbered tickets. However, Israeli’s have no time for this and many take a ticket and then leave the bank. They carry out another chore or two and after a short while, return to the bank and re-join the queue at the front.

But it’s not only this! They also try to circumvent the queue system by sitting in empty chairs as they arise at the counters. Sometimes another member of the queue or a teller will send them back, sometimes they just get served.

Whilst I was at the counter there were two people arguing behind me as to who was next for my teller. They both had numbers but even this was not enough. At one point I stood up to calm the baby and one of them actually sat in my chair! I had to send them away as I am sure that they would have tried to get served even though I was mid transaction!

At the last bank, a lovely young lady called Ina took the time to complete the much needed change of address form for me and also gave me access to their internet banking. She was a reminder to me that among all those, ‘computer says no’ people, there are still real gems out there who go the extra mile.

Incidentally, I found out that my inability to withdraw cash using a cash card from my UK account is not just a problem for me. A friend I met on the bus is also having the same problem. Her bank informed her that there is a general problem with the use of cash cards on ATMS from foreign accounts at the moment. At least it’s nothing personal.

So that was my morning; 4 hours, 3 banks, a returned cash card and cash finally withdrawn from my credit card to fund hubby’s trip abroad. I am sure that to undertake these tasks in the UK would have taken around half an hour and been much less stressful and eventful. However, since moving here, I always know that when I have a trip to the bank planned for any transaction that is not routine, that I need to expect the unexpected. Whatever can go wrong usually does.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com

Israeli Bureaucracy Wears Me Down

Israeli bureaucracy is renowned. Today though, was a classic bad day. One of those few occasions when I actually felt ground down by it all and reminisced about the efficiency of ‘back home’.

The day started with a trip to the bank. I needed to withdraw cash from my UK account. I went to three cash points, each told me the ‘service is not available’. I phoned my bank; no problem with the card or the account. No known reason, just ‘dafka’.

I had to get cash out to buy some sterling for a business trip my husband is going on this week. I asked if I could withdraw money from my credit card. ‘Yes,’ they said. I presented them with my UK credit card and my ID card. ‘No,’ they said, ‘come back tomorrow with your passport’.

I tried to get cash out of my Israeli account; the machine ate my card. I put the number in just once and it swallowed it right up. I have had an ongoing problem with the bank. I have a standard monthly statement and a Visa statement. The Visa statement they manage to send to my correct address but my monthly statement still mysteriously gets sent to my old address, even though I have tried to get it diverted. In the end I just gave up. Apparently my card may be out of date and the new one may be at my old address. Totally great!

Three cards; no cash.

This evening I had to take the baby to the Dr. The chicken pox is thankfully subsiding but she has picked up a cold and it has gone to her lungs. My son went to the pharmacy to pick up her prescription for antibiotics. The pharmacy phoned me up to tell me my daughter has been taken off our health care plan. The same daughter who went to hospital with me earlier in the week and whose health care card worked just fine then. I spoke to a representative from the health care company who insisted she must have been removed. He told me my husband must have removed her if I didn’t! Luckily the pharmacy knows us and still supplied the prescription.

So now I have a whole list of jobs for tomorrow:

• Try to get my swallowed up card returned.
• Go to the bank with my passport to get some cash.
• Try again to change the out of date address they have on file for me for some of their services (but not others!)
• Try to find out if a new cash card has been sent out and is floating around and in danger of being used fraudulently.
• Get my daughter re-instated on our health care plan.

Most people who know me would tell you I am a positive, calm, patient person. I am very British; I like to queue, I apologize to you if you bump into me, I drink tea all day long, I like good manners.

Today I feel tired. Tired of trying to sort things out in a language that is unfamiliar to me. Tired because my daughter has had one illness after another. Tired because sometimes being an olah is so frustrating and difficult.

So I ‘took five’. I sat in my garden, overlooking the Shomron Hills. I took in the view and breathed in the fresh, cool night air. I made myself remember why I came here and I returned to the house with the strength and determination to tick off all my ‘to do’s’ tomorrow.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com

Lights Out!!

We get power cuts on a regular basis in Israel. Living where we do, the power cuts are even more frequent.

Normally they only last a few minutes but on Friday afternoon it lasted a few hours. At first we just took a break from our Shabbat preparations; had a drink, a snack and waited for the return of the hum of the fridge. We waited and waited… but no hum, no light, no electricity.

During the outage our little one wandered into the laundry room and poked about near the washing machine. I wasn’t unduly worried but had forgotten that the safety features on the machine are controlled by electricity. Thus, on this occasion, she was actually successful at opening the washing machine door. The machine had come to an abrupt halt mid cycle and promptly poured a drum full of water over her legs and feet. She didn’t cry but had a perplexed look upon her face. I arrived on the scene, scooped her up and began the process of mopping up the leak.

Time passed by. Shabbat was coming closer. Luckily we had already prepared most of our Shabbat food for both Friday night and Saturday. However, the Friday night chicken was still uncooked and in the fridge. We began to think, ‘what if..?’ and started considering alternatives to the Friday night chicken.

However, just in the nick of time the house buzzed with the return of electricity; the phone beeped, the lights came on and the fridge positively purred with delight. Friday night chicken was back on the menu!

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com