Let It Rain

Aside from the ‘ceasefire’ and elections, the hot topic in Israel at the moment is water, or rather the lack of it. It seems that our water sources are drying up and our supplies are running out. Mismanagement, consumer wastage and climate change have, between them, given us a shortfall between demand and supply.

On arriving in Israel I found it bemusing that although people spoke of the need for rain, the sprinkler systems in public and private domains continually clicked on at regular internals, as if showing irreverence to the situation. Public actions were, and are, seemingly out of synch with governmental concerns.

Apparently, in the past, Israeli kids grew up singing songs in kindergarten about saving water. Today though, the passage of time appears to have eroded this ingrained respect for nature’s provision of water and seems to have been replaced with the assumption that, if you turn the tap on, water will come out.

For the first time, Israel, advisor to many countries in the world on advanced technology to manage water systems, is ironically facing a drought; not only a literal drought with taps being turned on to no effect but a drought of ideas on how to solve the problem.

There appears to be government level discussion, research and trials but, as yet, no clear decision on the way forward. Anglo discussion boards are full of posts submitting ideas on how we can all preserve water and reduce our individual consumption.

Last night we had a massive thunder storm; lightening bolts shrieking from the sky and violent rainstorms pelting down. We have seen little rain this winter and last night's storm will do little to redress the national water shortage.

Let’s hope we find a way to adopt those ideas which are the cheapest and most effective and, above all, develop a strategy so that the country can worry about all the normal ‘soress’ and get the basics right.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Israeli houses, like Israelis themselves, have a whole set of idiosyncrasies. Designed to combat the heat that is present for most of the year, they can be a tough experience during the winter months.

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

www.judaicamosaica.com

Time to Unwind

There’s been no blog for a short while. Life is a little hectic at present. New school for both kids, new work projects coming in and just that giddy feeling that comes with being time starved.

I ‘took five’ today. The little one was acting bored so I took her out into the garden for a walk around. I was about to busy myself out there when I decided that I would hang out with her a little. The chores could wait.

I followed her as she toddled about, investigating plants, poking about in boxes and chasing the cat. She located a tube of ‘bubbles’ so we sat down, blew them and watched as they floated, gracefully into the air. She stood up, arms out-stretched with a gleeful expression on her face.

She then decided to walk down the side of the garden where, under the trees, lies a pile of dried out pink blossom and leaves. This is one of her favorite places. She stomped her little feet in the shifting pile of summer’s lost glory. We marched through, delighting in the noise and feel of our actions and then stooped down to take handfuls of petals and throw them into the air.

I know that some people spend precious time and money buying a whole range of stress relief products or undertaking all sorts of treatments and activities.

I think we are all born with an innate ability to relax and enjoy the world around us. However, it seems that the older we get the less in tune to that side of ourselves we become. We also have it low down on our list of priorities.

Today I had a strange thought; I imagined what it would be like for every office to have a 'leaf room', where workers could chill out and recapture a wild, childhood pleasure. Wouldn't that be fun!

They say that the best things in life are free; well twenty minutes in the garden with my adorable daughter and I felt like a new woman.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com

Settling In

It’s been a strange week. Much of it involved settling the little one into nursery.

Last Tuesday I delivered her, loitered for five minutes then disappeared into the next room. I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave the nursery; I wanted to be on hand in case she needed me. I could hear her crying but she was whining rather than hysterical. I tried to read a book but was just too distracted. The Nursery Nurse kept sneaking back to me to tell me how things were going. She told me to go into another part of the nursery and relax.

I went to where the babies are looked after. When I arrived they were all asleep and I chatted to the lady who cared for them. Initially we spoke in Hebrew and then discovered we were both English speakers. This was a relief to me as my Hebrew is pretty basic. She was originally from Swaziland and told me that at its peak in the late 1970s the Jewish community there numbered 14 families! I spent a very pleasant hour chatting to her and she also crept out a couple of times to report back to me.

After an hour and a half I went back to my teary-eyed daughter and got the biggest hug ever. It is so hard to leave her – hard for her, hard for me.

She went again on Thursday and Friday, just for a few hours. They said that she is doing better – crying on and off, but taking part in activities. They told me to persevere. I dropped her off again today and she cried as we turned up the nursery path. I said my farewells and then stood outside the nursery for a while, listening to my daughter cry. Finally I got a grip and went home.

It is sweltering in Israel at the moment. We have fans in each of our bedrooms to help us get through the hot nights. The fans in Israel seem to be made to fall apart before the end of each summer. The fan in the baby’s room has a broken stand and is propped up against a wall. We recently bought a fan for our room and the buttons have all broken, they just fell apart in our hands, stayed pushed in or simply refuse to be pressed.

We didn’t buy this particular fan locally so I couldn’t be bothered to take it on the bus and return it. Instead I spent this evening taking it apart and using the parts to fix all the faults in the rest of the family’s fans. The fan in the baby’s room is now nice and sturdy, the one in my daughter’s room has new casing. I gave the remaining remnants of the fan to my son who spent an hour happily unscrewing it and taking it apart. Having got as far as he could he decided he was going to continue enjoying this exciting new toy by smashing it to smithereens with a hammer. Each to their own I guess.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Big Girl's First Day

Last week I went to look at nurseries for the baby. She has just turned one and this will be her first experience in anyone’s care other than her parents. Making aliyah means losing your whole network of family and friends and when the need comes for a babysitter you do miss having that network of (free) support.

I went to look at two, ‘parent recommended’ local nurseries. I had a good look around, asked about the activities and then let her loose to investigate for herself. She was very interested in this new, stimulating environment; an array of bright colours, an exciting variety of toys and lots of other ‘little people’ who took great interest in the newcomer.

Israeli nurseries differ from those in the UK. They are much more ‘out door’ focused. Most of the morning, in both of the nurseries I looked at, involved outside play (with an overhead net providing shade). As if all this outside activity was not enough, they also pile the kids inside what I can best describe as ‘mobile playpens’ and take them on a daily walk. They have different routes each day so the kids have something different to look at.

Whilst I was finding out more information and looking at all the educational toys, my daughter had found something which thrilled her to the core. She discovered a pile of goodies she is normally denied; there on the table was a box of broken mobile phones and TV remotes – she could throw them, chew them, press them, sit on them and no-one would stop her!

Today was her first day. I decided to hang around and let her get used to the new environment and routine. She did very well but kept coming over to me for re-assurance. We stayed for a few hours and then left as I could see she was getting tired. I will take her again later in the week and hope to disappear for some time and see how she gets on without me. I am not sure who will have more ‘separation anxiety’, her or me, but I do know that I have found a nursery that is full of music, fun and kindness.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Incommunicado

It was not a good start to the day. My husband’s cell phone inadvertently ended up down the toilet. He fished it out and dried it off. We then pried it open and considered how we could salvage the phone, which had all his personal and business contact numbers on, many of which were not saved anywhere else.

On a whim I went to the computer and typed in, ‘how to save a wet cell phone’ on a search engine. To my surprise there was a ‘how to’ article based around action to take following a cell phone falling into a toilet. I guess it must be a common incident!

I am forever bemused by the range of material available over the net; even seemingly obscure incidents seem to have a related article with someone offering the benefit of their own experience.

We appear to have adopted a cat. Well actually we have adopted a cat and her kitten. The mother is a thin, tabby cat, who does not look very old herself. I took pity on this young mum and her scrawny, ginger kitten, who is only a few weeks old.

It was to the internet I turned when I was wondering about feeding and caring for our newest family members. I had no cat food and started to feed her scraps from the fridge. I wanted to make sure I didn’t feed her anything that would disagree with her. Sure enough there was a selection of cat care websites with all sorts of advice.

So the World Wide Web has provided us with some useful information this week. The cats are well fed and happy and the phone… well the SIM card, battery and data card are fine but the phone and all the contact numbers stored on it seem to have died a sudden death.

I am going to make sure I record all the data stored in my phone. No end of internet advice will recover the business contacts, friends and family my husband had stored on his phone. I think we have learned a valuable lesson. I am not sure if the lesson is to keep a better record of all our data… or to leave the phone outside when visiting the toilet!

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A Moment To Reflect

This week my daughter had an, ‘I don’t know what to do’ moment. I was in the middle of doing something and said the first thing that came into my mind. We have several volumes of photos all neatly put into albums in chronological order. Sometimes we look at these, but more often than not we take out a battered old shoe box containing all those photos that never made the albums. I am not sure why. Perhaps it is because we like the feeling of holding the photos, perhaps it is the haphazard order of the photos, adding that element of surprise as we flick through them.

Remembering how my daughter likes to look at these photos I told her to go and look through the box and find some photos that showed things she missed, some that showed things that made her happy and others that made her laugh. It did the trick; she scuttled off on her mission, leaving me free to complete whatever chore I was in the middle of.

Later on we sat down together and discussed her choices. It was quite revealing in some ways and a nice activity. So, here are her choices and the reason she chose them:

Things she misses:

• A picture of Ariel, the cat we had in the UK. We decided not to take him on aliyah as we knew we were going to move about a bit initially and thought it would be unsettling for him. He ended up living on a farm.

• A picture of her and her brother as toddlers, sharing a bath together. They are covered in bubble bath ‘mustaches’ and ‘beards’. The house we are renting now only has a shower and all of us miss having a nice, long, soak in the tub.
  

• A picture of her and her brother crouching down, surrounded by white, crisp snow, with a recently made snowman proudly displayed between them. She has very fond memories of playing out in the snow, not exactly a common pursuit in Israel.

• A photo of her and her granddad. We don’t get to see him as often as other relatives and she wishes that she was able to see more of him.

Things that make her laugh:

• A picture of her riding a horse during a day out at a farm. She is as big as a minute with a cumbersome helmet on. She thinks it’s a great photo. It reminds her of a nice day out and she just looks funny being so small on top of a big horse.

• A photo of her in her stroller. This makes her laugh because we often relate stories to her about how she always hated walking and we had to lug that buggy everywhere with us or carry her. We say she was like a spoilt princess who didn’t deign to walk.

Things that make her happy;

• She chose a couple of pictures of her and her brother holding hands, hugging and being close. They have got to an age when they do not get on as well as they used to and my daughter misses the previous closeness which these photos represent.

• A picture of her riding her scooter in the back alley behind our house. She and her brother spent many a happy hour there, riding up and down, kicking a ball about, playing with the neighbours’ dogs etc. It was a very unexceptional photo that captured a very routine part of her week. It did however remind her of carefree times out after school and over the weekend, again being best buddies with her brother.

I am really pleased we sat down together and did this. It sparked a lovely conversation and was a good way for her to voice a few concerns.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Down on Their Luck

We are brought up to always think of those less fortunate than ourselves. We are taught that giving tsedaka (charity) should be a natural and ongoing part of our daily lives.

Since moving to Israel I have been surprised by how many people look to benefit from this mindset. I have never had so many strangers arrive at my door, presenting me with pages of neatly displayed endorsement letters from rabbis, requesting their share of the contents of my purse.

It is hard to turn them away; they all have a sob story and have fallen upon hard times. They all look a little ‘weather beaten’ by life. They have ill family members and need help to fund their treatment; they are unable to work due to illness/accident and need help to feed their families… I hate to turn people away. I always think, ‘What a terrible story; what would I do if I was in that position?’

I think maybe that I am starting to become a little Israeli now. I am starting to harden a little. I am beginning to think that, if I was in that position, would I go door to door expecting someone to fund my misfortune?

Tonight I gave someone some money. It was not a lot but it was not a little either. I was a little shocked and upset when he told me that it was not enough, he needed more. I told him that if everyone gave what I did then he would be fine. I closed the door and wondered how I could feel deflated after giving tsedeka.

It is a shame to doubt the authenticity or motivation of some of these people. Certainly if I were (G-d forbid) in any of their situations, and if I did choose to go door to door; I cannot see any circumstance where I would not gratefully receive any money that came my way.

I think from now on 100% of my tsedaka goes through my rabbi or to people I know. I have had enough of being made to feel guilty when trying to do good.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

The Cleverest Boy Ever!

I always ask my kids what they learned at school. I like to hear about their day but also I can determine their level of understanding and whether their Hebrew is improving. Certain subjects are harder than others, either they are taught in a ‘wordy’ way with fewer visual clues or maybe the vocabulary is quite specific and not what they come across in the ‘real world’.

This week my son came home from school and told me that he had learned all about deserts. I told him to tell me all about them and he got very excited. ‘Do you know what a desert looks like?’ he said. I described what most of us would, an arid, sandy, dune-filled terrain. With a sparkle in his eye he told me that he had learned all about cold, snowy deserts. My husband and I looked at each other. Had he misunderstood something in the lesson? Was he joking around with us?

But no, he was insistent; the arctic is a desert. After much debate I went on the internet. Sure enough a desert is classified as somewhere arid, extremely sparsely vegetated with a land devoid of earth. I even found an article about the ‘polar desert’ and another titled ‘Why the Arctic is a Desert’.

Well, well, well, you learn something everyday. I am not sure if the definition of a desert has changed but my husband and I certainly went through primary and secondary school without being taught this in Geography.

So now my son is walking around as if he is a genius. He got one over on mum and dad! He is the cleverest boy ever!!

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A boy needs a bike

I bought an old, second had bike recently. Only one brake works and the handlebars don’t quite lengthen to the correct height; it is a little rickety but it does the job. After I got it home it occurred to me that I hadn’t ridden a bike for nearly 30 years. We often use the parallel of riding a bike to describe how we never forget certain skills. I was now about to find out how true the old adage was!

It was a strange feeling to be cycling again after so long. As I coasted down hills I was reminded of distant childhood memories; the thrill and the freedom of speeding down slopes. I felt invigorated as I continued my journey.. that is, until those downward hills reversed into uphill slopes. I puffed up and panted, disappointed with myself at my wretched efforts to scale even relatively gentle slopes. Some hills proved too much of a challenge and I had to dismount and walk up them. As I did so my legs wobbled and ached from the effort. My breathing was labored and quick as my body protested about the stamina required of it to cope with my new pursuit.

I went out a couple of days later and was pleased that I fared a little better. It still proved difficult to cope with the hills but I did manage to stay on the bike for the entire journey, even though anyone seeing me struggle pathetically up those hills would probably have taken pity on me and offered to give me a push. I am hoping to build up my strength and am determined to get to the point where I don’t arrive home gasping for water and needing to sit down to catch my breath. I never realized how unfit I was. We don’t have a car and I walk everywhere so I am by no means new to regular exercise. But the bike; well, I have to admit it, the bike very nearly beat me. Not quite though, and if nothing else, I am a very determined person and I will persevere.

We also got my son’s bike repaired after months of it being out of action. He was itching to get back onto it again and as soon as the last nut was tightened he jumped onto the seat and sped off for a ride around the block. He came back excited and happy. I am of the opinion that boys really only need 3 things in life to keep them amused; a ball, a bike and a box of marbles; everything else is just superfluous.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

Yom HaShoah

It has been Yom HaShoah today, commemorating the victims of the Holocaust.

Being a mother adds another dimension to my understanding of the Shoah. I can only imagine the anguish of a mother in 1930’s Europe, whose natural instinct is to protect her children, having to cope in such a heinous situation.

I found a moving poem on the internet which highlights the impact of the Shoah from the perspective of the children. It is a little painful to read and yet beautiful and poignant too.

Holocaust by Barbara Sonek

We played, we laughed
We were loved.
We were ripped from the arms of our parents and thrown into the fire.
We were nothing more than children.
We had a future.
We were going to be lawyers, rabbis, wives, teachers, mothers.
We had dreams, then we had no hope.
We were taken away in the dead of night like cattle in cars, no air to breathe smothering, crying, starving, dying.
Separated from the world to be no more.
From the ashes, hear our plea.
This atrocity to mankind cannot happen again.
Remember us, for we were the children whose dreams and lives were stolen away.

But for the grace of G-d go I.

Last night we watched the national ceremony which involved testimony from survivors. It narrated their harrowing stories and detailed their lives before, during and after the Holocaust. It is a testament to a strong human spirit that many of these people, damaged by their experiences in death camps and from the trauma of losing their families, still managed to find the strength and fortitude to contribute so greatly to the building of the new State of Israel.

The children stayed up a little late last night. We explained, as best we could, what the Holocaust was. We wanted them to understand that today they were able to be openly Jewish but that they should not take this for granted. We explained that people were killed for no reason other than their religion or because they were perceived to be different. We reminded them that some members of our own family had been caught up in the Shoah. We stood in silence, lit our yorkseit candle and my husband recited kaddish.

This morning the sirens sounded and there was a minute’s silence. We took a few moments to offer a silent prayer for those lost.

May their dear souls rest in peace.

Sharona B

www.judaicamosaica.com

A Strange Place To Learn

It seems we are part of a growing phenomenon. I was reading an article today in the Jerusalem Report about growing trends in aliyah. More olim are either retaining their previous jobs from their original countries or getting jobs which involve travel. They commute between countries, sometimes for regular short periods or else for longer stints with breaks in between. My husband has recently begun traveling to the UK. He has been selling our Judaica there and is also in the process of setting up another business.

The salaries here are low compared with the UK/US, even for skilled jobs. Many are deciding that earning sterling/dollars is a better way to guarantee an income which has some hope of supporting their families. Our businesses are both new and time will tell if this way of working will prove successful for us.

Today I had a strange experience. I went to the dentist. Nothing unusual in that. However, some dentists aim to relax their patients with pleasant chatter or background music. This one put on a shiur for me to listen to. In the past I have learned Torah at home, in synagogue, in the houses of others, but never in the dentists chair whilst having my tooth drilled! I think, on balance, I prefer more traditional options!

However, my willingness to develop my religious knowledge appeared to have an immediate pay-off. Feeling a little numb, both in the mouth and from the 300 shekel dentist bill, I went to the supermarket to buy some groceries. When I walked in the cashier waved me over and told me that she had a 200 shekel voucher from my store loyalty card which she could take off my shopping bill. How’s that for timing? Any connection…?!

By the way…. no sign of the tortoise all day today. I searched around the garden and also peered over the borders, in case he had fallen down and needed rescuing. No sign at all. Is he still in our garden, buried and out of sight? Has he escaped and is jubilantly strutting his stuff in the wild? Has he taken a tumble and fallen somewhere out of sight? I actually feel a little worried about him and will have another root around for him tomorrow.

Changing perceptions

So here we are celebrating Pesach again. I can remember our last Seder in the UK, two years ago. When we read, “Next year in Jerusalem”, we did so with the thrill of knowing that, if not in Jerusalem itself, we would not be so far away.

It feels wonderful to (still) be here and to revisit and remember how our people were lead to the land of Israel. We now live in the biblical lands of Ephraim and Manasseh in Judea and Samaria. In Kfar Saba, our nearest town, lies the tombstone of Benjamin. Our connection to the land is strong and everlasting.

When we planned our aliyah we didn’t intend to live in a ‘settlement’ but ended up here after finding places that didn’t quite ‘fit’ us. We visited a few places and considered which might become ‘home’.

My mum recently came for a visit. She really is not the type of person who you would envisage walking these parts. She, to her own admission, is not the type of person, she would envisage walking these parts! When she tells her friends we live on a ‘settlement’, many of them have a preconceived idea as to what life is like here. Their only perceptions stem from the UK media, where ‘settlers’ are portrayed as angry, gun totting youths and ‘settlements’ are seen as dangerous, dusty outposts where the residents are regularly fired upon.

I took my mum for a walk around. We went to the ‘posh’ part of our community and I showed her tree lined streets and neat houses with lovely, well-kept gardens; a picture of suburban splendour. We walked along roads lined with detached villas, boasting grand entrances, long balconies, 6 bedrooms and big basements. It certainly blew some myths away.

I hope that my mum shows her photos and describes life here. The foreign media propagate such a narrow view of settlements and I am sure that her photos of villas and tree lined streets will surprise many.

I wonder how many others read, “Next year in Jerusalem”, over the Seder and either looked forward to their own impending aliyah or maybe even felt their first tug towards making their life in Israel. Certainly for us we feel we have made the right decision. We are not established here yet and have many challenges ahead but I can say with all certainly that Israel is ‘home’.

I daily marvel at the minor things in life that continue to give me a thrill; walking past (and smelling the aroma of) trees and bushes laden down with oranges, lemons, figs, grapes, olives; being a bus ride away from the golden beaches we used to travel so far to spend holidays at; being able to go to a supermarket and buy anything; being able to eat out at kosher restaurants wherever we go; or just walking around my neighbourhood and admiring the undulating hills and knowing that, generations ago, our forefathers walked these very steps. This is home in both a physical and spiritual sense. For all the hardships; for all the uncertainty; our hearts are now entrenched here.

Sharona B
www.judaicamosaica.com