And so the holiday season has drawn to a close. Here in Israel, since the August break, life has never really wound back to normal. Instead we had a leisurely change of gear during September, with the return of work and school, but with many big projects, reorganizations, after school activities and normal school hours, not resuming until next week.
Whenever you asked something of someone over the past few weeks, the answer was always the same, “acharay hahagim” – after the holidays. Life in Israel was paused on half speed and today signaled the end of the festive season. But Simchat Torah is not really an ‘end’ it is surely a ‘grand finale’.
Today’s, Simchat Torah celebrations were joyous and manic. I watched as the men raced around the bima, torah scrolls held in the air or over their shoulders, singing in unison; the women looking on, making their own circles to dance in; clapping and singing along. I smiled at the boy propped on his father’s shoulders, wearing his over-sized jacket and two hats stacked one upon the other. Everyone was happy, celebrating the end of one cycle and the beginning of another.
And so Israel cranks up another gear to something that resembles normal speed. The women all start their diets and the kids their after school clubs. Please G-d our year will be full of health, happiness and peace. Amen.
Sharona B
http://www.judaicamosaica.com/
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Simchat Torah - A Grand Finale
Monday, January 19, 2009
Cold Hands, Warm Heart
Heating houses which a) don’t have a heating system pre-installed, b) don’t have carpet, c) are open plan, d) have stone floors and e) have draughty windows, is both difficult and expensive.
Having been shocked at our electricity bill last year (which, I might add, was despite our efforts to be as economical as possible,) we decided that this year we would try to avoid an excessive bill. We bought a few heaters and these go on early morning and sporadically throughout the day but, alas, are not constantly pumping out the heat.
We have taken to old fashioned remedies. We use hot water bottles, we layer on our clothes, we shut the curtains at night and we eat lots of porridge. I would love to report back that all of these things have made a great difference but in truth, we are all still cold.
We are still cold inside the house that is. Many days, we venture outside and are shocked to find that it is 21°! We look around us at all the Israelis in their T-Shirts and jeans and feel a little foolish in our coats and scarves!
However much I get caught out, I still forget next time around. It just feels so cold that I automatically pile on layer after layer of clothing only to peel many of them off when I leave the house. My kids too are fed up with me making sure they wear their coats before they leave for school (zipped up too!) Israel just seems to be one of those places where you actually wear more clothes inside of the house than outside.
Maybe next year I will finally find a way to deal with winter in an Israeli house. Still, the phrase, 'cold hands, warm heart' springs to mind. In Israel we certainly have cold hands at the moment. The phrase also rings true for Israelis themselves, whose sometimes cold, tough exterior more often than not conceals the warmest of hearts.
Sharona B
Sunday, May 25, 2008
A Glowing Lag B'Omer
My son is one of those boys who loves dirt. He goes out clean and returns full of stains and interesting aromas. He always has bruised legs, an untucked shirt and disheveled hair. I send him out perfectly clean but this is how he always returns. Can you imagine how much fun Lag B’Omer is to a boy like him? The lure of the light and smell of a bonfire?
The excitement grew over the last few days, with the collection of sticks, branches and all things wooden, which were duly deposited on the site of the bonfire. On the night of Lag B’Omer he went over to some friends who had a bonfire by their house. He came back at various points during the evening, each time a little blacker but happier. They had been throwing sticks in the bonfire, toasting marshmellows and enjoying the heat, smoke and excitement of the experience
My daughter was celebrating with some of her friends. Both came home smelling like bonfires and were dispatched to the shower immediately.
During the evening, with the baby safely tucked up in bed, I went out to the bottom of the garden and looked down the hill. I was greeted by the site of sporadic orange glows. I breathed in the sweet, night air, tinged with the aroma of fire. Lag B’Omer in Israel feels like a true celebration and has certainly ingrained lasting, happy memories for my children.
This week the baby, now nearly one, has been practicing all her new tricks. She has recently started to walk a little. When she stands up now and takes a few steps, she immediately claps herself, obviously very proud of her newest achievement. Unfortunately as soon as she does this she looses her balance and slumps to the ground. She has also started to play ‘peekaboo’ with my hat and play her little xylophone. It is a lovely age.
Sharona B
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
School Report
I had a parents meeting in school this week for my daughter. Finally, after nearly two years in school, she is speaking Hebrew and doing well in her lessons.
For someone who excelled in England it has taken time and patience for her to settle into a new school environment and to master enough Hebrew to fully participate.
When we came here in August 2006 we were told by several people that by Chanuakah the kids would have mastered Hebrew and be fully immersed in school. If anyone is planning to make aliyah please, please do not take any notice of people who tell you this. I can assure you that it is the exception and not the rule. Maybe those parents enrolled their kids in intensive Hebrew after school or gave them ongoing homework help. Perhaps they had better Hebrew when they arrived here. Maybe they were just very bright and able kids. Our experience however, is that it took a lot longer and was more laborious than many told us.
We did not give our kids any ‘extras’. They had ulpan at school 2-3 times a week but, to be honest, it was a little ineffective. They came out able to sing all variety of Israeli folk songs and learned to translate them, resulting in them learning words like ‘orchard’ and ‘barley’! OK I am exaggerating a little, but ulpan did not really help them to understand their lessons, teachers' instructions or equip them to do their homework.
They learned best by sitting and listening – they picked up vocabulary for various school items first; ‘pen’, ‘pencil’, ‘pencil case’, ‘sharpener’ etc. They picked up playground words; ‘stop!’, ‘come on!’, ‘pass the ball!’, ‘penalty!’, ‘you’re it!’ etc. They picked up commands; ‘sit’, ‘stand’, ‘eat’, ‘hurry up!’
They picked learned to conjugate verbs – a little from the ulpan but mainly from listening to others – things just started to ‘sound right’ and slot into place.
We are nearly two years down the line and my kids maybe understand 70-80% of the content of their lessons. They need support in certain subjects and encouragement in others. Sometimes they can understand what they need to do and have the capacity to complete the task, but it takes them far longer to read and digest the instructions and formulate their answer than the rest of the class. Some days they get upset or come home frustrated. Other days they come home not understanding how to do their homework, either the instructions are too hard to read or maybe they just didn’t write it down accurately when it was set.
If you are thinking about aliyah please come with no expectations for your kids. One of mine is doing well, the other is struggling. Is it the school, is it the child, is it all the changes we have added to their lives? You cannot compare your children to others. You cannot compare your situation to others. You can simply do the best by your kids.
I have seen in various forums that some feel that making aliyah with older kids is not always wise. There are always reasons not to make aliyah. My kids have had good and bad experiences in Israeli schools, but when asked if they regret coming, if they want to return to the UK; both of them would not consider it.
For all the harsh reality of making aliyah; moving house/location (for us repeatedly), moving schools, having to make new friends, having to fit in, having to learn the language, having to start all over again… the quality of life is better here. The weather is nicer, the food is fresher, the views are amazing. To walk on the land of our ancestors, to tread the same path, is an ongoing thrill. To drive past the gravestones of biblical characters on the way to the shops is awe inspiring. To look around at road sweepers, bus drivers, shop keepers and know they are all Jewish is still remarkable for me. To see people from Russia, France, Somalia, Morocco, Iraq who are now Hebrew speaking Israelis is what Zionism was all about.
Yes it’s hard. Yes it’s a challenge. Yes it takes time to get established and make a new life. But it’s worth it. If making aliyah is anywhere on your radar, don’t be put off by pessimistic articles or hearsay. However, be realistic; you won’t be able to replicate your ‘old’ life here. You really will have to start all over again. Sometimes we get hung up on all the change; change is disruptive and stressful, but it is not always a bad thing. It can shake us out of a rut and show us a different, maybe even better, route. It’s all a matter of perception.
Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
British or Israeli?
Yom Ha’atzmaut triggers off thoughts of my own nationality. Here I am, an olah of 20 months. I have physically relocated. I (attempt to) speak the language. The junk food I eat is now falafel and hummus. I even succumbed to wearing Crocs. My Identity Card lists me as Israeli. I have an Israeli passport. To the outside world I am branded Israeli. But in my heart do I feel it?
The truth is that when I am in Israel I sometimes feel more British than Israeli. It bugs me that people can be so warm and caring yet have no time for day to day manners; for politeness; for queues. It is just not natural for me to take something from someone and not to thank them; to push past a mother carrying a baby to get on the bus before her; to ignore someone who I am obstructing and continue (slowly) without moving aside; to take a call on a cell phone while I am serving someone. It is all alien to me.
On the other hand, when I return to the UK I don’t feel so British at all; I feel conscious of my appearance, customs and attitude. I feel different.
So what am I? British/Israeli? Israeli/British? Just one or the other?
When it comes down to it, does it really matter? Aside from war or international football matches, when do you think of your nationality?
I think, having considered the choices, that maybe I am just Jewish.
Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Reality Check
This week we had an emergency practice throughout Israel. They sounded the sirens, the kids had to go to their safe rooms in schools and the emergency services got themselves organised for different scenarios. For us lucky enough to have arrived in Israel during relatively peaceful times, the sound of the sirens is a little unnerving. We are not used to it and are unsure how we will feel and how we will cope when, inevitably the sirens sound for real.
I think most Israelis feel that we are ‘between wars’, certainly we are not at peace. With our civilians in Sderot continuing to have missiles fired upon them, our soldiers still missing and terrorism still very clearly on the agenda of our neighbours; the emergency practice seems to represent a caution, a reminder for us to be prepared for the worst.
The kids took it all in their stride. The regular school practices are treated by kids like fire drills are in the UK; they see it as a welcome distraction from their lessons.
On the day of the practice the sirens did not really affect me. The following evening my kids went out to help clean out the shul for pasech. I had given them some money to buy pizza afterwards as a reward. They walked up to the shul together, did all their jobs and then enjoyed some nice, hot pizza and a cool drink. Afterwards they took a slow stroll back home, which is about a twenty minute walk. The whole episode took longer than I imagined. They were not particularly late but as I gathered in the washing from the garden I heard the call to prayer from the neighbouring Arab village. Also audible was the sound of either fireworks or gun fire. I couldn’t make out which. Perhaps it was the siren from the day before; perhaps it was the chilling call to prayer with a ‘gun fire’ backtrack; but I felt really unnerved. With the baby asleep upstairs I couldn’t wander out to meet them, so I loitered outside the house waiting, waiting, waiting. Eventually, two tired figures emerged from the distance and then ran towards me when they spotted me outside. I sat down and praised them for being so helpful and gave them both an extra hug and a kiss.
On a lighter note, I have discovered the magical powers of baby wipes! I am in the middle of Passover cleaning up and clearing out. So far the baby wipes have proved excellent at many jobs – the leather sofa in particular came up a treat! Who needs expensive leather cleaner when my daughter’s wipes do the trick?
Sharona B
