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