Forever an Olah?
We have been in Israel for nearly three years now. I have had a baby in this country and am raising a Hebrew speaker. My older kids use Israeli hand gestures and speak Hebrew slang. We make lasagna using cottage cheese. But do we feel Israeli?
Last week we were waiting at a bus stop. When we had been there for a short while, an Israeli lady sat near us under the shelter. The kids were talking to each other in Hebrew and I was talking to my youngest in (very bad, heavily accented) Hebrew too. After a while she said to me, “How long have you been here?”
Assuming she had picked up on our accents, I answered, “Nearly three years now.”
“No,” she said. “How long have you been here.” As she had stressed the last word, I assumed she meant our yeshuv. “We’ve lived here for nearly two years,” I answered.
“No,” she said again. “How long have you been here.” This time, as well as stressing the last word she pointed downwards to the ground. Finally, I understood. “Oh, sorry. We’ve been at the bus stop for ten minutes!”
The exchange, although a little silly/embarrassing/funny (delete as you see fit) got me thinking about the fact that I may have an ‘olah’ mentality. When will I actually feel so at home that if someone asks me the same question, I will cease to automatically assume they see me as a newcomer.
Sharona B
http://www.judaicamosaica.com/
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Still New After 3 Years?
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Israel Sliding Into Recession
Until now it had just been headlines in the paper but my foray today into two local towns brought home the fact that Israel is sliding into recession, alongside the rest of the world. For a while it seemed to be defying the trend, with little visible sign of an economic downturn. Now though, the reality is kicking in.
Today I ventured out to two local towns. It was a beautifully, hot, sunny day. The palm trees were waving in the gentle breeze and life appeared to be going on as normal. Music could be heard from various shops and buses; people were busily going about their business, perhaps on work or shopping activities; motorists were impatiently jamming their horns.. all seemed to be as it always is. And yet…
Whilst visiting the first town I noticed that a café I frequented had shut down and now had a man selling soft furnishings within the stripped down shop. It resembled a market stall and was selling seemingly cheap but quality-looking goods.
At the next town my favourite ‘tastes like home made’ cous cous café was closed and had been replaced by a makeshift falafel stand. Again the shop resembled a carcass, having been stripped down of all assets, giving it the feel of a squat.
The slowly emerging gaps along the high street and the emergence of ‘market stalls’ in vacant lots perhaps made me observe my surroundings more carefully. I was sad to see several people rooting through the rubbish bins (trash cans). These were not traditional ‘vagrants’ but were quite well dressed.
There were quite a lot of buskers on the street too. I passed one man who, farcically it seemed, was playing a violin with a music stand and sheet music propped up next to him. He screeched away at his instrument, seemingly incapable of playing a note. As I walked passed I thought it quite comical that he had taken the trouble to have the music stand next to him – perhaps to give him the air of a professional! However, my eyes gradually drifted to his hands and I noticed him awkwardly holding one hand against the wrong side of the bow. I thought this strange and then wondered whether his clumsy position might actually be the result of a stroke.
By the time I had taken this all in I was some distance away from him and my initial amusement had turned to pity. My short trip out had certainly turned into a depressing eye opener. But for the grace of G-d go I.
Sharona B
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Pesach Reflections
The kids had a great pesach break. Israel offers a wide range of chol chamoed family activities. Ours decided on a trip to the desert and learned a lot about the terrain – from identifying trees with hidden reserves of water within their branches to a bumpy camel ride.
I have decided that the magnetic messages we put on our fridge are a great barometer to life in the Benjamin house. They tend to sum up how we feel. We only have one of most letters so we have to be quite inventive in what we say. During pesach, this is what we wrote:
This week the fridge reads:
I will post up our fridge messages in my blogs; they probably say more about us than anything else I could write.
So, back to normal now. The kids are back at school and it is a return to the daily grind for us. When I dropped my daughter off at nursery today the pictures of matza and wine were down and up in their place were blue and white balloons in readiness for Remembrance and Independence Days. With hardly time to draw breath we seem to be moving on to the next holiday already. .
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Pre Pesach Mayhem!
When you make aliyah there are many changes in your life – some big, some small, some expected, some not.
One of the pleasant surprises for me was the different array of nature I saw on an everyday basis. Now I am not talking about giant cockroaches or tarantulas here, I mean that I look up in at the trees in my garden and see colourful birds that I have never seen before. It occurs to me that perhaps the creatures I admire for being a little exotic and differing from the norm, are probably the Israeli equivalent of pigeons in the UK. However, I have retained an awe of all the different species around me.
This last week however, there was a less welcomed feathered friend on our patch. A stray chicken (yes you read that right!) seems to have taken up residence at the front of our house. I regularly feed a stray cat and from time to time I now hear an annoying, ‘peck, peck, peck’ as this nuisance of a fowl locates the cat food. Annoyingly, the cat is actually afraid of the chicken and allows her to steal her food.
My husband thinks she would make a nice Shabbat meal but I just want rid of her. I have chased her, thrown sticks at her, put emails out over the local network asking if anyone is missing a chicken and finally, changed the location of the cat food to the garden. The chicken does not seem particularly bright and, so far, has not realized what I have done. I am hoping the removal of the food will encourage her to find another foster home.
So, enough of my feathered fiasco... it is time to get cleaning for pesach. Perhaps, before she departs, I should pluck a feather from the chicken to help me search for chametz!
This post goes out to all those currently surrounded by buckets of hot water, bottles of cleaning products and an array of dusters and cloths. There is something quite therapeutic about pre pesach decluttering and cleaning but it is one of those things that you don't really appreciate until all the hard work is over and done with - whilst in the middle of the task you just have a never ending mental checklist of places still in need of a good scrub. Happy cleaning!
Sharona B
Thursday, October 2, 2008
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
