Voting, Israeli Style

Yesterday was my first experience of carrying out my civic duty and voting in an Israeli local election. I guess that’s some kind of a landmark. I think however, those monitoring the election process must have wondered who on earth they had on their hands and whether I had the mental capacity to cope with voting at all! I must have seemed a little clueless whilst trying to cast my vote. The whole process is different to ‘back home’ and I didn’t really know what to do or fully understand the instructions I was given.

I was given two envelopes and for a while afterwards stood around searching for a ballot paper inside each of them and looking for pen to mark an x. After a while I realized things were done a little differently here and that I was standing the wrong side of a booth, which was hiding numerous slips of paper, two of which I needed to insert into my envelopes.

Having rectified the error I mustered as much dignity as I could and prepared to post my envelopes in the ballot box. The officiator, having surveyed my confusion repeatedly checked that I had managed to put the yellow slip in the yellow envelope and the white slip in the white envelope. I assured him that (even) I had managed this.

Later on I walked to the local supermarket and brought a trolley full of food. I asked for a delivery and was initially told there were none today (no reason given, just, ‘not today’). I stood for a while considering which items I needed the most and could manage to carry home. Suddenly the loud speaker unexpectedly announced that deliveries were back on.

Later on in the afternoon my delivery arrived whilst I was on the phone. I noticed the man deliver two boxes and then return to his van for more. I was conscious that I had a final box and assumed he was rummaging around in the van for this. Finally, call over, I peered outside to see what was happening. There was no sign of him. Realizing that my final box had not arrived I phoned the store. I established, in the best Hebrew I could, that I had just had a delivery but that my box of fridge and freezer food had not materialized. I gave them my name and address and waited for them to respond. The phone was passed around to a few people and finally I spoke to someone who acknowledged that one box was indeed missing. Rather than apologizing (An Israeli apologizing? Does that happen?!) I was asked whether they could now deliver my box tomorrow. As I needed some of the items that night I said, ‘no’. Their caring, customer-focused response was, ‘why not??’. I began to pull together a sentence in my mind in Hebrew, explaining that there were things I needed. Suddenly I realized that a better approach was simply to treat the question as an Israeli would. ‘Cacha’ I said (‘because’). Israelis rarely back up a ‘cacha’ with anything, a ‘cacha’ is simply enough. I am proud to say my tactics worked and my box arrived shortly afterwards.

So I guess I may be a little inept at all this new election stuff but I am starting to feel my way in dealing with everyday situations.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

My Rosh Hashannah Prayer

Rosh Hashannah. It came… it went. We prayed… we ate.

We have now started the crazy season. Jewish holiday after Jewish holiday. You just get geared up and prepared for one and then another one is around the corner. Perhaps they are on special offer – buy one, get one free?!

But each one has a different character, meaning and role in our lives. Each one merits contemplation and reflection. Every holiday can teach us something about our past, which in turn can help shape our future.

Towards the end of the second day; having prayed, entertained and eaten, I took the little one out for a walk. We ended up at the park and as she worked her way enthusiastically around the swings, slide and other rides, I took in the wonderful view of the Shomron Hills. It is a view I always appreciate; hill after hill, cascading over each other as far as the eye can see. It was the afternoon and the low sun and drifting clouds spread lazy shadows over the land. The grass tones darkened in the shadows and the shades of green seemed to alter in front of my eyes as the clouds moved gently across the sky.

The infectious laughter of my daughter, delighted by her swift descents from the slide provided intermittent interruptions to the peace and quiet around me.

I thought about the recent articles in the paper; this land again appears to be on the chopping block – up for grabs, to be given away cheaply on the whim of a weak and misguided Government. Usually, at Passover, we say, ‘Next year in Jerusalem’; a 2,000 year old yearning that was finally realized with the creation of the State of Israel. This New Year, I had my own silent prayer, ‘Next year, and the year after, and the year after… may we still be living in this beautiful place; somewhere our forefathers settled; somewhere our patriarchs are buried; somewhere our future generations deserve to inherit.’

I don’t think I have ever appreciated living anywhere as much as I do living here.

I don’t think I have ever felt such gnawing fear that the place where I live, somewhere as precious as this, could be so easily discarded.

During this holiday period we consider our past and prepare for our future. We do this on an individual basis. It seems to me though, that we could do with doing this collectively.

Where are we going as a people?

How do we reconcile our own internal differences and integrate as one people?

How do we live in peace and protect our children without the need to chop more and more land away from our already tiny homeland?

And so as my daughter threw her head back in innocent glee, I said my silent prayer, hoping that faith and appreciation would in some way hold sway. Hoping that I could pause time, capture the moment, preserve our life here on this land of our forefathers; hoping , beyond hope, that it will be the land of our descendants too.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Rest In Peace

It was a long, galling day. Israelis at home, at work, traveling, on holiday; wherever they were, whatever they were doing; we all had one ear tuned in to the news. We waited, impatiently to find out the unknown fate of our two missing sons.

Finally, as two coffins emerged, a nation collectively sighed. Although we suspected it would end this way, we still felt the bitter disappointment and pain of their families, whose lives have been suspended with the mixed feelings of hope and dread for two long years.

We were relieved at their eventual return and the ability to finally lay them to rest and honor their service to our country. Even though we were thankful to have them home, we acknowledged the high price we paid in the trade-off. Many were exasperated at the weak negotiations and one-sided deal. It reflected both the pathetic stature of our Government and the impossible situation we are often in when it comes to matters such as these. We watched, with distaste, as Lebanon celebrated with vigor the return of a child-killing terrorist. All in contrast to the somber mood back home.

This is not a political blog. There are plenty of those and I avoid it as a rule. This blog details my day to day emotions, frustrations, experiences. Yesterday was taken over by the return of Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser. May their dear souls rest in peace. May Gilad Shalit be home with us soon, alive and well.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com