You know you've been in Israel for almost a year when:
1. You are happy to see clouds in the sky
2. You get excited over a downpour
3. You still get nervous when ordering a coffee
4. You can actually feel the caffeine in the coffee
5. You get carded to try a sample of wine
6. The seawater is actually cold
7. Cheap pizza actually tastes good
8. You speak to Hebrew to someone who doesn't know the language
9. As a pedestrian, you don't get almost run over
10. The drivers let you go when you need to make a turn
11. The train ticketing system makes sense
12. A "small" is too big
13. You actually know how much money you are spending
14. The sidewalks are dog poop-free
15. Speaking English feels weird
16. You pay for food (at fast-food restaurants/cafes) when you order, not after you eat it
17. You agree with the fashion
18. Artifacts in America seem young
19. There's talk of "what are you doing for Shabbat?" without any Orthodox context
20. Food shopping requires looking for the "Kosher" label
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Friday, June 8, 2012
How They've Improved! !איך שהם התקדמו
Lihitkadem (להתקדם) - to be moved forward, to be improved.
Personally, I like the first definitnition better, to move foroward. Because that is exactly what is happening both literally and metaphorically.
The kid that I mostly work with, M, could not sit up at the beginning of the year. He would lie on his back and babble to himself. He would not roll over, though he was able to, nor would he reach out for the toys he wanted. If a toy that he liked was placed infront of him and then taken away, there would be no eye contact to say "where did it go?" nor would he cry for the toy. He could not clap nor pay attention for very long. When I was given the chart of where he should be by the end of the year, I was very overwhelmed. How could I do all these things when the kid can barely roll over?
The first time M sat by himself, my friend and I fawned over him like proud mothers. Now he's a big shot at sitting up. "Look at me!" He giggles. Just a few weeks ago, he managed to pull himself from a sitting position to a standing position. This has also gotten him to realize "Hey look! I have knees!" so he has started kneeling and crawling with his knees as opposed to on his stomach. Now I am working with him to walk with help of a wall or table to steady him. That, he does not like so much. But he didn't like the other excercies either. But look how far he's gotten!
Due to his increase in mobility, M is able to interact with his peers. He is also able to "ask" for a toy that is taken away so many times this leads to arguments with the other kids. He still babbles but the words are more defined. And this kid, this kid will be a singer. When we sing the Hebrew version of seesaw, he will sing the tune back. We sing to the kids everytime we switch activities so at the end of morning meeting the other day we were singing that it was time to eat and although he is unable to say the words, he sang the intonation of the song.
Because of these improvements, M will be moving to the next class in August.If you asked me 2 months ago if I thought he should go to the next class (where the kids walk and kind of talk) I would have said no. But given his recent progress I am so happy that he will be moving up and not staying in the same class.
While the job is very rewarding despite what seems like slow progress, I really appreciate M's mom. At least once a week she will write in his notebook about how she's so happy that he's "moved forward". That she has noticed his babbling has changed and that he's starting to stand and reach out for things. And whenever she sees me, she just thanks me a thousand times and is so grateful.
Or at least that what I think she says because she talks a mile a minute.
Personally, I like the first definitnition better, to move foroward. Because that is exactly what is happening both literally and metaphorically.
The kid that I mostly work with, M, could not sit up at the beginning of the year. He would lie on his back and babble to himself. He would not roll over, though he was able to, nor would he reach out for the toys he wanted. If a toy that he liked was placed infront of him and then taken away, there would be no eye contact to say "where did it go?" nor would he cry for the toy. He could not clap nor pay attention for very long. When I was given the chart of where he should be by the end of the year, I was very overwhelmed. How could I do all these things when the kid can barely roll over?
The first time M sat by himself, my friend and I fawned over him like proud mothers. Now he's a big shot at sitting up. "Look at me!" He giggles. Just a few weeks ago, he managed to pull himself from a sitting position to a standing position. This has also gotten him to realize "Hey look! I have knees!" so he has started kneeling and crawling with his knees as opposed to on his stomach. Now I am working with him to walk with help of a wall or table to steady him. That, he does not like so much. But he didn't like the other excercies either. But look how far he's gotten!
Due to his increase in mobility, M is able to interact with his peers. He is also able to "ask" for a toy that is taken away so many times this leads to arguments with the other kids. He still babbles but the words are more defined. And this kid, this kid will be a singer. When we sing the Hebrew version of seesaw, he will sing the tune back. We sing to the kids everytime we switch activities so at the end of morning meeting the other day we were singing that it was time to eat and although he is unable to say the words, he sang the intonation of the song.
Because of these improvements, M will be moving to the next class in August.If you asked me 2 months ago if I thought he should go to the next class (where the kids walk and kind of talk) I would have said no. But given his recent progress I am so happy that he will be moving up and not staying in the same class.
While the job is very rewarding despite what seems like slow progress, I really appreciate M's mom. At least once a week she will write in his notebook about how she's so happy that he's "moved forward". That she has noticed his babbling has changed and that he's starting to stand and reach out for things. And whenever she sees me, she just thanks me a thousand times and is so grateful.
Or at least that what I think she says because she talks a mile a minute.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Transportation
In Boston, when you get on a bus, you have to either beep the CharlieCard or get a ticket to scan before entering the bus. You enter in, well, the front of the bus and you pay. For the train, you buy a ticket before going through the turnstiles. The common thread between these modes of transportation is that they wait for you to sit down (or to hold onto something before moving).
The Light Rail--
You're supposed to by a ticket or refill the "Rav Kav" before boarding the train. When the train first started running in September it was free. They said it would be free for a week. But they couldn't figure out how to get the beepers on the train to work. So the train was free until mid-December. However there were many people who would sneak onto the train without paying and so they put officials on the train to check if you paid for your ride or not.
However, if I'm riding a train, I expect to be taken from point A to point B with only the necessary stops. It should not take me just as long to walk as it does to take the train. But half the time that's what I do anyway because I would rather walk for 45 minutes than ride for 20 mintues in a sweaty sandwich of people. The train, at least at first, arrives every 12 minutes. If you're lucky. I understand that there is traffic, but the point of the train was that it is faster than the busses because it's on its own railway. But it does not have the right of way so, during traffic hours, the train stops at every single light. In addition, there have been multiple times when I have taken the train and it has stopped for more than the allotted time for no apparent reason. Despite all these complaints, it's still faster than the bus.
The Bus--
A single ride around the city costs 6.20 shekels. But since it's rare that anyone has agurot (like pennies), most people do not give the exact change. This means that the driver has to give them change thus a line ensues to get on the bus. If you are one of the last people to get on, you're in trouble. The driver will go as soon as everyone fits. The only thing to hang onto during a rush hour mass is that old religious woman in front of you that is haggling the bus driver on whether or not she can receive the senior discount.
The bus is a good use of transportation. If there's no traffic and if you know where you're going. Otherwise you're screwed. During traffic, a pedestrain moves faster. So, while the bus might be ideal after a long day's work, in reality walking towards your destination is a better option. Example: Last year when I lived on Har Hatzofim, it took fifteen minutes in the morning to ride the bus to work. In the afternoon, it would take over an hour.
The Sherut (aka the shared taxi)--
The Sherut is generally used instead of the bus to get to different cities in Israel. The car can hold ten people plus the driver. Because this isn't a mode that requires tickets, the cab needs to be full in order to go. Therefore, I usually have to wait for the cab to fill. Generally, I have taken the sherut on a Friday and I have never had to wait more than five minutes for the cab to fill. When I came home from Tel Aviv on Saturday, I thought I would have to wait longer for the cab to fill because it was Shabbat. However, the cab was filled in a matter of seconds. I like this mode of transportation because, although it's few shekels more, it reduces the hassel of going through the security of the central bus station.
The etiquette of the sherut is important. You don't pay as soon as you get on, although that is the logical thing to do. The etiquette allows you to sit down and get settled before handing the money to the person in front of you to hand to the driver. Most drivers are nice and if asked, will let you know where to get off. Others are like the bus drivers and know only central bus station to central bus station. The one thing to know though, is that if you want to get off at an exact point, you don't ask at the point or they will drive way beyond to a place they can stop. If you want to get off at an exact point, you ask as soon as it's in view.
Otherwise, you'll end up on the other side of the city.
The Light Rail--
You're supposed to by a ticket or refill the "Rav Kav" before boarding the train. When the train first started running in September it was free. They said it would be free for a week. But they couldn't figure out how to get the beepers on the train to work. So the train was free until mid-December. However there were many people who would sneak onto the train without paying and so they put officials on the train to check if you paid for your ride or not.
However, if I'm riding a train, I expect to be taken from point A to point B with only the necessary stops. It should not take me just as long to walk as it does to take the train. But half the time that's what I do anyway because I would rather walk for 45 minutes than ride for 20 mintues in a sweaty sandwich of people. The train, at least at first, arrives every 12 minutes. If you're lucky. I understand that there is traffic, but the point of the train was that it is faster than the busses because it's on its own railway. But it does not have the right of way so, during traffic hours, the train stops at every single light. In addition, there have been multiple times when I have taken the train and it has stopped for more than the allotted time for no apparent reason. Despite all these complaints, it's still faster than the bus.
The Bus--
A single ride around the city costs 6.20 shekels. But since it's rare that anyone has agurot (like pennies), most people do not give the exact change. This means that the driver has to give them change thus a line ensues to get on the bus. If you are one of the last people to get on, you're in trouble. The driver will go as soon as everyone fits. The only thing to hang onto during a rush hour mass is that old religious woman in front of you that is haggling the bus driver on whether or not she can receive the senior discount.
The bus is a good use of transportation. If there's no traffic and if you know where you're going. Otherwise you're screwed. During traffic, a pedestrain moves faster. So, while the bus might be ideal after a long day's work, in reality walking towards your destination is a better option. Example: Last year when I lived on Har Hatzofim, it took fifteen minutes in the morning to ride the bus to work. In the afternoon, it would take over an hour.
The Sherut (aka the shared taxi)--
The Sherut is generally used instead of the bus to get to different cities in Israel. The car can hold ten people plus the driver. Because this isn't a mode that requires tickets, the cab needs to be full in order to go. Therefore, I usually have to wait for the cab to fill. Generally, I have taken the sherut on a Friday and I have never had to wait more than five minutes for the cab to fill. When I came home from Tel Aviv on Saturday, I thought I would have to wait longer for the cab to fill because it was Shabbat. However, the cab was filled in a matter of seconds. I like this mode of transportation because, although it's few shekels more, it reduces the hassel of going through the security of the central bus station.
The etiquette of the sherut is important. You don't pay as soon as you get on, although that is the logical thing to do. The etiquette allows you to sit down and get settled before handing the money to the person in front of you to hand to the driver. Most drivers are nice and if asked, will let you know where to get off. Others are like the bus drivers and know only central bus station to central bus station. The one thing to know though, is that if you want to get off at an exact point, you don't ask at the point or they will drive way beyond to a place they can stop. If you want to get off at an exact point, you ask as soon as it's in view.
Otherwise, you'll end up on the other side of the city.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Birthdays
Birthdays in America. It's a simple celebration outside of a child's birthday party. There's a cake, you sing "Happy Birthday", and the person with the birthday receives the gifts. In school, the class will sing and cupcakes will be handed out. A total of 15 minutes, if you include eating the cake.
In Israel, the songs take 15 mintues just to sing. While most Israelis are familiar with the copyrighted tune of "Happy Birthday," it is not one of the songs that is included in the sing-a-long. It starts with "HaYom Yom Huledet" (Today is Your Birthday), an upbeat melody and continues with "Yom Huledet Chagigah Lachmedet" (A Nice Birthday Celebration). There are a few other songs that are included for kids (but the titles sound stupid in English. "What a Happy Day") The singing ends with "Where is the Cake?" It sounds like a greedy song, but it's fun to sing. The translation of the words are "There no celebration without cake so where is the cake?" Everysong that is sung has a happy tune associated with it. People clap and bang on tables or shake tambourines. The birthday girl/boy wears a crown, or a lei, or sits in a special chair to signify that it's their birthday.
Recently at the kindergarten, we've celebrated 2 birthdays. A boy turned 2. And a girl tunred 1. It is absolutely adorable seeing the kids with their families. (The only thing is that afterwards the child becomes confused on why mommy was in school and now she's not there). The parents are good sports and dance with kids. You can truly see the love in the mothers' eyes when they are with their children and you can't help but smile.
There was another birthday a few ago also. Israel turned 64 on Yom Ha"atzmaut. What really surprised me here was the Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day) literally goes into Independence day. On Yom HaZicharon, many stores were closed and schools were released early. At 11:00am the city was silent for a full 2 minutes. No movements. No horns. Just the wind and the birds. It looked like a living museum. Cars stopped in the middle of the road. People stopped in the center of the crosswalk. Conversations halted. The country was quiet. There was a ceremony at Har Herzel and because we live so close to it, we walked there. I think all of Jerusalem and the surrounding cities were there. Luckily it's a big place, though the downside is we couldn't find where the actual ceremony was. Just the speakers that were hung on the trees throughout the cemetery.
For Yom Ha'atzmaut, the whole country was decorated in blue and white. Flags hung from buildings and waved hello in the breeze. Flags were connected to cars, to balconies, and to trees. Mostly everyone was wearing blue and white to show their pride for Israel. The evening of Yom Ha'atzmaut we watched a celebration that took place at Har Herzel. It was similar to every other celebration. Bands, dancing, army personnel. One of the personnel from the army has been invited to come since anyone can remember. He's now in his 80s and still in the army. At the end, they shot fireworks into the air and because the apartment is so close, we could see the show. (No, not as good as Needham.) With a celebratory barbeque (and parks that looked like a dump everywhere in the country. Literally trash everywhere. It was disgusting) Israelis celebrated the 64th year of the establishment of Israel.
pictures!
In Israel, the songs take 15 mintues just to sing. While most Israelis are familiar with the copyrighted tune of "Happy Birthday," it is not one of the songs that is included in the sing-a-long. It starts with "HaYom Yom Huledet" (Today is Your Birthday), an upbeat melody and continues with "Yom Huledet Chagigah Lachmedet" (A Nice Birthday Celebration). There are a few other songs that are included for kids (but the titles sound stupid in English. "What a Happy Day") The singing ends with "Where is the Cake?" It sounds like a greedy song, but it's fun to sing. The translation of the words are "There no celebration without cake so where is the cake?" Everysong that is sung has a happy tune associated with it. People clap and bang on tables or shake tambourines. The birthday girl/boy wears a crown, or a lei, or sits in a special chair to signify that it's their birthday.
Recently at the kindergarten, we've celebrated 2 birthdays. A boy turned 2. And a girl tunred 1. It is absolutely adorable seeing the kids with their families. (The only thing is that afterwards the child becomes confused on why mommy was in school and now she's not there). The parents are good sports and dance with kids. You can truly see the love in the mothers' eyes when they are with their children and you can't help but smile.
There was another birthday a few ago also. Israel turned 64 on Yom Ha"atzmaut. What really surprised me here was the Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day) literally goes into Independence day. On Yom HaZicharon, many stores were closed and schools were released early. At 11:00am the city was silent for a full 2 minutes. No movements. No horns. Just the wind and the birds. It looked like a living museum. Cars stopped in the middle of the road. People stopped in the center of the crosswalk. Conversations halted. The country was quiet. There was a ceremony at Har Herzel and because we live so close to it, we walked there. I think all of Jerusalem and the surrounding cities were there. Luckily it's a big place, though the downside is we couldn't find where the actual ceremony was. Just the speakers that were hung on the trees throughout the cemetery.
For Yom Ha'atzmaut, the whole country was decorated in blue and white. Flags hung from buildings and waved hello in the breeze. Flags were connected to cars, to balconies, and to trees. Mostly everyone was wearing blue and white to show their pride for Israel. The evening of Yom Ha'atzmaut we watched a celebration that took place at Har Herzel. It was similar to every other celebration. Bands, dancing, army personnel. One of the personnel from the army has been invited to come since anyone can remember. He's now in his 80s and still in the army. At the end, they shot fireworks into the air and because the apartment is so close, we could see the show. (No, not as good as Needham.) With a celebratory barbeque (and parks that looked like a dump everywhere in the country. Literally trash everywhere. It was disgusting) Israelis celebrated the 64th year of the establishment of Israel.
pictures!
Friday, March 16, 2012
My First Purim
There is no Purim like Purim in Israel.
In the United States, you go to synagogue, maybe dress up in costume, hear the megillah, and eat hamentaschen. It's one evening. Not so here in Israel. If it wasn't for Shabbat, the party would have continued throught the evening. Here, if you are not in costume, it's weird. Everybody has something silly on, whether it's a hat or face paint. Whether they are 2 months old or 92 years old. Everybody is in disguise.
There was a small party at the kindergarten for the kids. The came into school dressed in costume. I have never seen such cute lions, penguins, and princesses. They of course didn't really understand what was happening, but I think they had fun at the activites that we had planned for them.
Thursday was not technically Purim in Jerusalem. Because Jerusalem is a "walled-city", she celebrates Shushan Purim. This is because the Jews were not invloved in Haman's defeat until the day after the rest of Persia. It was then decided in Joshua's time, that Purim would be celebrated in all citied that were enclosed by walls when he conquered Israel. Despite that the rest of the country was celebrating Purim on Wednesday/Thursday, the Yerushalmim (Jerusalemites) continued celebrating with them. By the time I left work, everybody was in costume and families crowded Ben Yehuda street. While this tourist street is normally crowded, it was nothing compared to what it was like Thursday afternoon and especially night.
Friday, we drove into the city center and actually managed to find a parking spot. Not only was it Purim, but it was also almost Shabbat. With these two holidays back to back, the shuk was even more crowded than usual. If you have ever been to the shuk on a Friday afternoon at 2pm, you know there is very little room to move and you choose food from the closest stand knowing that it will be five minutes, at least, before reaching your favorite vendor. On this day, however, it was a sea of people. If one person stopped, the whole crowd stopped. It took over 15 minutes to pass from one end to the other. After swimming through the sea, we stopped in Nachlaot, a neigborhood near the shuk. Music was played by some of the neighboorhood's residents and people filled the streets. As we walked along the street, we stumbled on a Megillah reading. Only in Israel can you wander the streets and randomly bump into a group of people listening to the megillah. Because we had not heard the megillah yet, we stopped and listened until its finish.
The party continued and people piled up. Cars could no longer get through the street (though it's a minor street and very few cars pass through anyway) and the cars that were parked had dents in the roof from being danced on for seven hours by a hundred people. As the day went on, more elaborate costumes appeared. There was the simple "salt and pepper", "put on a wig and call it something", and animal costumes. However, there were some that were very creative and elaborate. Two girl dressed as Ursula and Ariel from The Little Mermaid. One guy had popped a football and put it on his head. And one girl dressed as a peacock.
As Shabbat neared, people dispersed to get ready and by the time the Shabbat alarm sounded, the neighborhood we had been in suddenly had fewer people. However, with no music playing, we decided to end our Purim and go home. After all it was Shabbat.
Here our some pictures (and videos) of the latest adventures!
In the United States, you go to synagogue, maybe dress up in costume, hear the megillah, and eat hamentaschen. It's one evening. Not so here in Israel. If it wasn't for Shabbat, the party would have continued throught the evening. Here, if you are not in costume, it's weird. Everybody has something silly on, whether it's a hat or face paint. Whether they are 2 months old or 92 years old. Everybody is in disguise.
There was a small party at the kindergarten for the kids. The came into school dressed in costume. I have never seen such cute lions, penguins, and princesses. They of course didn't really understand what was happening, but I think they had fun at the activites that we had planned for them.
Thursday was not technically Purim in Jerusalem. Because Jerusalem is a "walled-city", she celebrates Shushan Purim. This is because the Jews were not invloved in Haman's defeat until the day after the rest of Persia. It was then decided in Joshua's time, that Purim would be celebrated in all citied that were enclosed by walls when he conquered Israel. Despite that the rest of the country was celebrating Purim on Wednesday/Thursday, the Yerushalmim (Jerusalemites) continued celebrating with them. By the time I left work, everybody was in costume and families crowded Ben Yehuda street. While this tourist street is normally crowded, it was nothing compared to what it was like Thursday afternoon and especially night.
Friday, we drove into the city center and actually managed to find a parking spot. Not only was it Purim, but it was also almost Shabbat. With these two holidays back to back, the shuk was even more crowded than usual. If you have ever been to the shuk on a Friday afternoon at 2pm, you know there is very little room to move and you choose food from the closest stand knowing that it will be five minutes, at least, before reaching your favorite vendor. On this day, however, it was a sea of people. If one person stopped, the whole crowd stopped. It took over 15 minutes to pass from one end to the other. After swimming through the sea, we stopped in Nachlaot, a neigborhood near the shuk. Music was played by some of the neighboorhood's residents and people filled the streets. As we walked along the street, we stumbled on a Megillah reading. Only in Israel can you wander the streets and randomly bump into a group of people listening to the megillah. Because we had not heard the megillah yet, we stopped and listened until its finish.
The party continued and people piled up. Cars could no longer get through the street (though it's a minor street and very few cars pass through anyway) and the cars that were parked had dents in the roof from being danced on for seven hours by a hundred people. As the day went on, more elaborate costumes appeared. There was the simple "salt and pepper", "put on a wig and call it something", and animal costumes. However, there were some that were very creative and elaborate. Two girl dressed as Ursula and Ariel from The Little Mermaid. One guy had popped a football and put it on his head. And one girl dressed as a peacock.
As Shabbat neared, people dispersed to get ready and by the time the Shabbat alarm sounded, the neighborhood we had been in suddenly had fewer people. However, with no music playing, we decided to end our Purim and go home. After all it was Shabbat.
Here our some pictures (and videos) of the latest adventures!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Milestones
There's nothing like seeing a child take their first step. Or say their first word. These milestones are a huge part of development and praising the child only makes them want to move forward. For parents with normally developing kids, there are developmental characteristics that aren't as exciting yet still important. They are not noticed quite as much, but arents still praise these features eventhough they seem very small.
For example, clapping. This is one thing a baby will start to do in their first year of life. It a very important milestone because this means that the child is aware of thier hands and can start to display an even wider range of emotion. One of the kids that I work with in the kindergarten is 15 months. He just started to clap ylast week. At first, he would only put his hands together unless there is a flashing lightstick pushed up against his body. Now, if I say "can you clap for me?" he will. Since he has started to clap, he has been a little bit more successful in refining his gross motor skills. The cube goes into the box instead of staying on the table or being thrown on the floor.
How do you get a kid to learn to clap? Besides doing it for him, which is also good practice, the reward system also works. The therapist told me to sing a song that he likes and clap. I should stop in the middle and if he wants more he will put his hands to mine signaling that he wants more. It's not the full motion, but it's a start. After a few weeks of just touching my hands, he began keeping his hands on mine as I sang the song. It still takes some prompting, but this boy will clap for you.
Another simple task that parents will acknowledge, but won't think too much about it the simple task of being able to hold your head up and to turn it. Every person takes that for granted. We all learned when we were infants and have been continuing to hold our heads up for years. But this simple act for a child with the lack of muscles is a tiring feat. One boy, who just turned one, is barely able to hold his head up. If he is sitting up, he is able to look at you. But if you put him on the ground, he is not only unable to lift his body off the ground, but he also doesn't have enough muscle to look straight ahead. He needs this tummy time as the hair on the back of his head still isn't as full as the rest of the hair on his head. Plus, he's lazy. We all know this cutie can do it, but i'm pretty sure he knows just exactly how adorable he is and knows that someone will just do the task for him.
Another milestone that is taken for granted is the ability to stand from a sitting position. Usually this is one of the first signs that a baby will begin to take their first steps in a few months. A baby needs to learn to balance on two legs before they can begin to move them. The same boy that just started clapping is learning to stand up from a sitting position. He can't really stand yet, we are working on that too, but his favorite game is to sit on a wooden stool and be pulled upwards. I think he will be standing with help soon. His legs now straighten when he is in an upright position, as opposed to the jelly legs he had a few months ago.
Sidenote: It is not at all sad to be with these kids becaue they are changing everyday. The early intervention that they are going through will allow them to live a relatively normal life. Besides, how can you be sad when the moment you walk in the door and say "good morning", the kids put on a bright smile?
For example, clapping. This is one thing a baby will start to do in their first year of life. It a very important milestone because this means that the child is aware of thier hands and can start to display an even wider range of emotion. One of the kids that I work with in the kindergarten is 15 months. He just started to clap ylast week. At first, he would only put his hands together unless there is a flashing lightstick pushed up against his body. Now, if I say "can you clap for me?" he will. Since he has started to clap, he has been a little bit more successful in refining his gross motor skills. The cube goes into the box instead of staying on the table or being thrown on the floor.
How do you get a kid to learn to clap? Besides doing it for him, which is also good practice, the reward system also works. The therapist told me to sing a song that he likes and clap. I should stop in the middle and if he wants more he will put his hands to mine signaling that he wants more. It's not the full motion, but it's a start. After a few weeks of just touching my hands, he began keeping his hands on mine as I sang the song. It still takes some prompting, but this boy will clap for you.
Another simple task that parents will acknowledge, but won't think too much about it the simple task of being able to hold your head up and to turn it. Every person takes that for granted. We all learned when we were infants and have been continuing to hold our heads up for years. But this simple act for a child with the lack of muscles is a tiring feat. One boy, who just turned one, is barely able to hold his head up. If he is sitting up, he is able to look at you. But if you put him on the ground, he is not only unable to lift his body off the ground, but he also doesn't have enough muscle to look straight ahead. He needs this tummy time as the hair on the back of his head still isn't as full as the rest of the hair on his head. Plus, he's lazy. We all know this cutie can do it, but i'm pretty sure he knows just exactly how adorable he is and knows that someone will just do the task for him.
Another milestone that is taken for granted is the ability to stand from a sitting position. Usually this is one of the first signs that a baby will begin to take their first steps in a few months. A baby needs to learn to balance on two legs before they can begin to move them. The same boy that just started clapping is learning to stand up from a sitting position. He can't really stand yet, we are working on that too, but his favorite game is to sit on a wooden stool and be pulled upwards. I think he will be standing with help soon. His legs now straighten when he is in an upright position, as opposed to the jelly legs he had a few months ago.
Sidenote: It is not at all sad to be with these kids becaue they are changing everyday. The early intervention that they are going through will allow them to live a relatively normal life. Besides, how can you be sad when the moment you walk in the door and say "good morning", the kids put on a bright smile?
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Annoynaces of Shabbat
On Shabbat, the country shuts down. No stores, no shops, no businesses are opened. You can spy the religious walking to synagogue with their eight kids. All is quiet on the streets of Jerusalem during Shabbat. It is very peaceful. The only thing that can be heard from my apartment is the occasional bark from the dogs and a maybe a few startling meows. Shabbat gives people a chance to just relax. To see family. To enjoy the day. With no responsibilities until sundown, it gives Jews a 24 hour period to just enjoy life.
However.
If you need medication you have to wait until sundown. If you need to see a doctor, but it's not an emergency, you need to wait until the next day. I recently got an infection in my eye. I knew exactly what it was and I knew exactly what I needed. But I had to wait over 36 hours to see a doctor and get medication and because of this, I had to miss work and the eye became more irritated. If the doctor's office had been opened on Shabbat, I could have gotten the medication that day and not missed work the next day thus pleasing my boss and putting her on my good side.
Because Shabbat is a day off, people like to enjoy themselves by going places around the city. However because most stores and tourist places are closed, it is not possible to do this unless you know specific places. Like the Hermon.
I went to the (Mt.) Hermon a few weeks ago. Because it is a National Reserve, it is opened everyday. Here, I learned to ski. Not in Massachusetts. Not in the Alps. Or the Rockies. Or in any of the ski resorts that I have been to for hiking. Nope. I learned to ski in the desert. I think if I had learned to ski when I was younger it would have been more enjoyable, but because it was my first time skiing, I fell down a lot. Plus it was a long drive there so we were all tired and it took a lot of energy to balance and stay up right. I've also been to and seen better, more exciting mountains. I'm sure it's exciting to speed down a mountain, but I'd rather stick to the hiking and watch the view at a normal place. The Hermon is a mountain that you have to see. Just like you have to see the Kotel. However, the Hermon is one of those places that is good to go to every ten years.
However.
If you need medication you have to wait until sundown. If you need to see a doctor, but it's not an emergency, you need to wait until the next day. I recently got an infection in my eye. I knew exactly what it was and I knew exactly what I needed. But I had to wait over 36 hours to see a doctor and get medication and because of this, I had to miss work and the eye became more irritated. If the doctor's office had been opened on Shabbat, I could have gotten the medication that day and not missed work the next day thus pleasing my boss and putting her on my good side.
Because Shabbat is a day off, people like to enjoy themselves by going places around the city. However because most stores and tourist places are closed, it is not possible to do this unless you know specific places. Like the Hermon.
I went to the (Mt.) Hermon a few weeks ago. Because it is a National Reserve, it is opened everyday. Here, I learned to ski. Not in Massachusetts. Not in the Alps. Or the Rockies. Or in any of the ski resorts that I have been to for hiking. Nope. I learned to ski in the desert. I think if I had learned to ski when I was younger it would have been more enjoyable, but because it was my first time skiing, I fell down a lot. Plus it was a long drive there so we were all tired and it took a lot of energy to balance and stay up right. I've also been to and seen better, more exciting mountains. I'm sure it's exciting to speed down a mountain, but I'd rather stick to the hiking and watch the view at a normal place. The Hermon is a mountain that you have to see. Just like you have to see the Kotel. However, the Hermon is one of those places that is good to go to every ten years.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Age Difference
Back in September/October when I went on a trip, the age group of the people on the bus was around 28. During the two hour ride to and from mostly everybody slept. And those who didn't whispered in the back. Last week, I went to a conference in Tel Aviv for work. We had to be at the bus earlier than the usual work day. However, the average age of the people on the bus was 32 and most of the adults have kids. So, during the 45 minute drive, while me and and a few other people tried to sleep, everyone else talked.
It was interesting to realize this dynamic. I have never really thought about it before because when I go on trips, I'm usually with people my own age. Even the dynamic of the conference was like this. We got there late so my branch sat towards the back, but the teachers and the prinicpal were the first row of our branch. Behind them, the therapists and behind them, the staff and Bat-Sherut girls (the ones that do the national service). The first two rows were listening and attentive and some people were taking notes. The last row talked and doodled. While I hate to admit that I was part of the group, I will say that I think I would have paid more attention if I understood what the people were saying. Though, when someone talks in a monotonous voice, they are boring no matter what language.
The rest of the week at school was Hanukkah vacation so while the kids didn't have to come in, we were still there. But as luck would have it every kid came into Gan, except one. But it's rare that we always have all seven kids.
This is the first year that I have truly experienced Hannukah in Israel. My semester in Haifa there was a party with sufguniot (doughnuts) and last year I barely had time to light the menorah. But this year was different. I saw and felt Hannukah, though without the snow. The first night of Hanukkah, I went to the Old city to see all the chanukiot (menorahs) placed in the windows and by the Kotel. A big blue menorah by Yafo Gate welcomes the visitors, as well as the one in Kikiar Tzion. It was gorgeous seeing the two candles flicker against the Jerusalem stone. Because the streets in the Old City are so narrow, the light from the chanukiot lit up the alleyways. In addition, there was a Hannukah party at school and the siblings of the kids came to celebrate. The third night of Hannukah, as I was walking down the street, I was offered free sufguniot from different vendors and given gifts. On the last night of Hanukkah, I went to a pub where there were free dreidels (with a pey instead of a shin) and gelt.
Every night when I walked home to and from work, I would see the greetings on the busses wishing me a happy Hannukkah. At sunset, I would see families lighting candles and singing the blessing so that by the time I got home, there were chanukiot in almost every window in my apartment building. Most nights as I entered my buildings, I could smell latkes in the hallway wafting towards my nose
pictures of Hanukkah and other adventures
It was interesting to realize this dynamic. I have never really thought about it before because when I go on trips, I'm usually with people my own age. Even the dynamic of the conference was like this. We got there late so my branch sat towards the back, but the teachers and the prinicpal were the first row of our branch. Behind them, the therapists and behind them, the staff and Bat-Sherut girls (the ones that do the national service). The first two rows were listening and attentive and some people were taking notes. The last row talked and doodled. While I hate to admit that I was part of the group, I will say that I think I would have paid more attention if I understood what the people were saying. Though, when someone talks in a monotonous voice, they are boring no matter what language.
The rest of the week at school was Hanukkah vacation so while the kids didn't have to come in, we were still there. But as luck would have it every kid came into Gan, except one. But it's rare that we always have all seven kids.
This is the first year that I have truly experienced Hannukah in Israel. My semester in Haifa there was a party with sufguniot (doughnuts) and last year I barely had time to light the menorah. But this year was different. I saw and felt Hannukah, though without the snow. The first night of Hanukkah, I went to the Old city to see all the chanukiot (menorahs) placed in the windows and by the Kotel. A big blue menorah by Yafo Gate welcomes the visitors, as well as the one in Kikiar Tzion. It was gorgeous seeing the two candles flicker against the Jerusalem stone. Because the streets in the Old City are so narrow, the light from the chanukiot lit up the alleyways. In addition, there was a Hannukah party at school and the siblings of the kids came to celebrate. The third night of Hannukah, as I was walking down the street, I was offered free sufguniot from different vendors and given gifts. On the last night of Hanukkah, I went to a pub where there were free dreidels (with a pey instead of a shin) and gelt.
Every night when I walked home to and from work, I would see the greetings on the busses wishing me a happy Hannukkah. At sunset, I would see families lighting candles and singing the blessing so that by the time I got home, there were chanukiot in almost every window in my apartment building. Most nights as I entered my buildings, I could smell latkes in the hallway wafting towards my nose
pictures of Hanukkah and other adventures
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Bystander Effect
While riding the bus the other day, the bus driver asked if everyone was getting off at the central bus station, which is the last stop on the route. A few people replied yes. This caught me by surprise. If this question was asked in America, you would get some grumbles but definitely no definitive yeses. Definite answers are a part of Israeli culture, as well as stating their opinion. You want to know how to get to Ben Yehuda Street? Five people will tell you six different ways. And that is just asking for directions.
This got me thinking. Is the bystander effect lower in Israel? The bystander effect occurs during an emergency and people choose not to intervene. Kitty Genovese opened the eyes of many psychologists after her murder in her apartment. While she was yelling for help, the other tenants assumed that somebody else was going to help and because of this nobody helped until too late.
If people in Israel tend to express their opinions more frequently and more often to strangers than Americans then it would that they would also run to an emergency situation and see what is going on. I can tell you that when one car is pulled over on the road, there is usually another car near it and somebody talking on the phone. Sometimes there is an accident, but most of the time it is not. This rarely happens in America. If your car breaks down you have to go fend for yourself. But here, as long as you don't enrage the other person, they treat you like family. You don't have a place for Shabbat? Tell the next person on the street and they will happily invite you over. Need a ride to the next town? Hop in. Because of the group-centered culture, people are more likely to help each other.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Familiar Strangers
You know those people you pass everyday, but don't know? Those are your familiar strangers. It may be that you know the kind of coffee they get. Or it might be that you they wear blue only on Thursdays. Or it might be that lady with the curly hair that you pass everyday. You don't know them. You know almost nothing about them, and yet you see and remember their face. They have no importance in your life, but at the same time you wonder "where are they going? what is on their to-do list?"
Everyday when I go to work, I pass multiple people. Some are people who I will never see again. Children, adults, cats. But lately there have been three people who I consistently see on a daily basis. There is the lady that walks her cat and slowly admires the rising sun. There is the lady who is wearing pastel pink sweats (yes, everyday) and begins her walk in Sachar Park. Then, there is the guy at the crosswalk on his bike. Because the crosswalk lights stay on red for so long, I usually see him. He regulates my time. If I don't see him, I need to sprint to work. If I see he hasn't crossed to my side yet, I know that I have a lot of time left.
It's amazing that eventhough you don't know anything about these people and you only see them for a few seconds a day, that your brain is able to remember and recognize these faces. There are a million people in the world. The fact that this three pound muscle is able to remember is amazing.
In the kindergarten, a specialist comes in for Music. She is blind. I think that it is good for the older kids to know that there is a working and functional blind adult in their vicinity. While she only comes in once a week and stays in each classroom for about half an hour, the kids are still able to recognize her voice (which, by the way, is decent. She can actually sing which makes a difference since none of the rest of us can). As a blind person in the community, she does not have familiar faces, but rather familiar voices. But all of us have mixed up another's voice. Half the time when I talk to my family, I have to say it's me and not my sister. I have had conversations though where people thought I was my sister. Some times vision is the most helpful despite that the visually impaired have better tuned hearing than the seeing.
So, while familiar strangers are not very important in our lives, it makes life easier. If the cashier knows you always give correct change and you are short by a few cents (or agurot) they will let it slide. Or if the familiar stranger spills something on you or steps on your foot by accident, it makes it easier to forgive them because you know that it's not the norm.
But then after awhile it gets awkward. There comes a point when you recognize them and they recognize you. Do you say hi? Or just go along like normal?
Everyday when I go to work, I pass multiple people. Some are people who I will never see again. Children, adults, cats. But lately there have been three people who I consistently see on a daily basis. There is the lady that walks her cat and slowly admires the rising sun. There is the lady who is wearing pastel pink sweats (yes, everyday) and begins her walk in Sachar Park. Then, there is the guy at the crosswalk on his bike. Because the crosswalk lights stay on red for so long, I usually see him. He regulates my time. If I don't see him, I need to sprint to work. If I see he hasn't crossed to my side yet, I know that I have a lot of time left.
It's amazing that eventhough you don't know anything about these people and you only see them for a few seconds a day, that your brain is able to remember and recognize these faces. There are a million people in the world. The fact that this three pound muscle is able to remember is amazing.
In the kindergarten, a specialist comes in for Music. She is blind. I think that it is good for the older kids to know that there is a working and functional blind adult in their vicinity. While she only comes in once a week and stays in each classroom for about half an hour, the kids are still able to recognize her voice (which, by the way, is decent. She can actually sing which makes a difference since none of the rest of us can). As a blind person in the community, she does not have familiar faces, but rather familiar voices. But all of us have mixed up another's voice. Half the time when I talk to my family, I have to say it's me and not my sister. I have had conversations though where people thought I was my sister. Some times vision is the most helpful despite that the visually impaired have better tuned hearing than the seeing.
So, while familiar strangers are not very important in our lives, it makes life easier. If the cashier knows you always give correct change and you are short by a few cents (or agurot) they will let it slide. Or if the familiar stranger spills something on you or steps on your foot by accident, it makes it easier to forgive them because you know that it's not the norm.
But then after awhile it gets awkward. There comes a point when you recognize them and they recognize you. Do you say hi? Or just go along like normal?
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
University Taught Me Something
The past few days, all seven kids have been crying during nap time. Usually it's the same two kids that cry and that is easy to deal with. However, suddenly this week, everyone has decided that they will cry during the first half hour of nap time and then maybe they will go to sleep.
Most parents know that when a baby is crying at the beginning of their naptime it is because they do not want to go to sleep, no matter how tired they are. However, after self-soothing, they are able to calm themselves and eventually fall asleep. There is one boy who is a little over a year who likes to be cradled and rocked all the time, even when he is awake. Sometimes, when he is exhausted, he is able to fall asleep on his mattress without any swinging. Anyway, the moment he starts to cry, the new staff member runs over to pick him and put him in the swing. Or if someone else is crying, she will pick them up and hush them. From experience and classes, I know that it is better to let the babies cry for a little bit so they can learn to sooth-themselves and then after a little bit try to calm them. This method does not work every kid, but for over time, the child will gradually learn to calm himself.
The child that constantly likes to be rocked is blind. He is able to see different colors and flashes of lights, but not much more than that. He has his favorite toy that sings and flashes lights. It is like a pacifier. If he is not playing with his toy, he will cry unless there is someone with him to say "you toy is in front of you" or unless he is able to feel someone's presence. He likes to be hugged and kissed and picked up. My theory is that because he is blind and unable to see, he is literally lost in his own thoughts and his own world. (Whether or not babies have thoughts is a different issue). He feels alone and unstable. I imagine it is like waking up disoriented. Being held allows him to be more in touch with reality and to know that he exists. That people care. The swinging and cradling also allows him to be able to know that he is alive. Even last year the girl that was totally blind always cries unless she was rocked back and forth. The boy from last year who was mostly blind didn't like to sleep because he probably felt that he would be lost. Their feelings are completely understandable.
In addition, the kids' morning play usually consists of building blocks (both literal blocks and metaphorical ones that will help them develop their skills) and Legos. I know the reason the kids are playing specifically with these toys is so that they can develop their fine and gross motor skills. Because they are so little and their hands are so little, most of them have very little control over putting the block into a specific area and usually "get one in" by luck. But because I know that these toys are supposed to enhance their skills, I will usually find a toy that will help them practice their skills instead of toy that just sings and makes other animal noises.
There are many other things that I learned in university that I would not have known otherwise and the skills that I learned have helped me work with the kids more than I think.
Most parents know that when a baby is crying at the beginning of their naptime it is because they do not want to go to sleep, no matter how tired they are. However, after self-soothing, they are able to calm themselves and eventually fall asleep. There is one boy who is a little over a year who likes to be cradled and rocked all the time, even when he is awake. Sometimes, when he is exhausted, he is able to fall asleep on his mattress without any swinging. Anyway, the moment he starts to cry, the new staff member runs over to pick him and put him in the swing. Or if someone else is crying, she will pick them up and hush them. From experience and classes, I know that it is better to let the babies cry for a little bit so they can learn to sooth-themselves and then after a little bit try to calm them. This method does not work every kid, but for over time, the child will gradually learn to calm himself.
The child that constantly likes to be rocked is blind. He is able to see different colors and flashes of lights, but not much more than that. He has his favorite toy that sings and flashes lights. It is like a pacifier. If he is not playing with his toy, he will cry unless there is someone with him to say "you toy is in front of you" or unless he is able to feel someone's presence. He likes to be hugged and kissed and picked up. My theory is that because he is blind and unable to see, he is literally lost in his own thoughts and his own world. (Whether or not babies have thoughts is a different issue). He feels alone and unstable. I imagine it is like waking up disoriented. Being held allows him to be more in touch with reality and to know that he exists. That people care. The swinging and cradling also allows him to be able to know that he is alive. Even last year the girl that was totally blind always cries unless she was rocked back and forth. The boy from last year who was mostly blind didn't like to sleep because he probably felt that he would be lost. Their feelings are completely understandable.
In addition, the kids' morning play usually consists of building blocks (both literal blocks and metaphorical ones that will help them develop their skills) and Legos. I know the reason the kids are playing specifically with these toys is so that they can develop their fine and gross motor skills. Because they are so little and their hands are so little, most of them have very little control over putting the block into a specific area and usually "get one in" by luck. But because I know that these toys are supposed to enhance their skills, I will usually find a toy that will help them practice their skills instead of toy that just sings and makes other animal noises.
There are many other things that I learned in university that I would not have known otherwise and the skills that I learned have helped me work with the kids more than I think.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Step by Step
I recently started at a job at the same place I volunteered last September. The kids, of course, have grown. They can now walk by themselves and have a conversation. Although they don't remember me because of their age, it is still great to see how far they have come in just six months. For an adult, six months is no improvement at all. Full rehabilitation takes longer than that, but these kids have acquired a language and are able to walk around and play.
On my first day, I was asked to come in to welcome the kids when they arrived. One girl arrived and I couldn't believe how she has grown. Last year, the teachers worked with her to keep her bald head from going to just the right side. When she was laid down now, her ginger hair contrasted with the blue mat and she was able to turn her head to both sides, though she still favored the right side. In contrast however, one of the girls just turned three. She can't stand, nevermind walk, nor can she talk or really do much of anything. I'm not sure exactly what she has (I think cerebral palsy), but she is severely developmentally delayed and no matter how much therapy she has, she will never be a "normal" child.
In the day to day learning, we don't see the improvement of the children. Even talking begins slowly. First there is the "bababa" sound which goes to "abba" (father) and then two word sentences and eventually full chatter. However, this process doesn't happen overnight, but rather about a year. Working with the children everyday, you don't see the small skills they acquire so that they are able to go on with the next step. It is only when you look back that you can see how much a child has learned.
One of the hardest things about making Aliyah is the language. Sometimes I feel like I am on the same page as the two and a half year olds. I know words and I can put together sentences, but I don't always understand the words that everyone is using. It feels like I am not learning any more Hebrew, but then there will be a day when suddenly everything is in Hebrew or I do a task that I previously would not have been able to do. For example, I went to the bank (which is a whole different system than the US, but that's a different story). I asked the teller if he spoke English to which he replied only a little. Since I had already been waiting for 45 minutes, I didn't feel like waiting more so I gave up and spoke Hebrew to him. (Side note: He was surprised I was from the US...Last time I checked I have a strong American accent. Oh yea, plus I asked if he spoke English. Is that not a clue? I speak Hebrew sometimes and the clerks automatically switch to English.) I succeeded in my task and was proud that I was able to do this in Hebrew.
A few weeks ago, I went to the Golan so here are some of the Pictures
On my first day, I was asked to come in to welcome the kids when they arrived. One girl arrived and I couldn't believe how she has grown. Last year, the teachers worked with her to keep her bald head from going to just the right side. When she was laid down now, her ginger hair contrasted with the blue mat and she was able to turn her head to both sides, though she still favored the right side. In contrast however, one of the girls just turned three. She can't stand, nevermind walk, nor can she talk or really do much of anything. I'm not sure exactly what she has (I think cerebral palsy), but she is severely developmentally delayed and no matter how much therapy she has, she will never be a "normal" child.
In the day to day learning, we don't see the improvement of the children. Even talking begins slowly. First there is the "bababa" sound which goes to "abba" (father) and then two word sentences and eventually full chatter. However, this process doesn't happen overnight, but rather about a year. Working with the children everyday, you don't see the small skills they acquire so that they are able to go on with the next step. It is only when you look back that you can see how much a child has learned.
One of the hardest things about making Aliyah is the language. Sometimes I feel like I am on the same page as the two and a half year olds. I know words and I can put together sentences, but I don't always understand the words that everyone is using. It feels like I am not learning any more Hebrew, but then there will be a day when suddenly everything is in Hebrew or I do a task that I previously would not have been able to do. For example, I went to the bank (which is a whole different system than the US, but that's a different story). I asked the teller if he spoke English to which he replied only a little. Since I had already been waiting for 45 minutes, I didn't feel like waiting more so I gave up and spoke Hebrew to him. (Side note: He was surprised I was from the US...Last time I checked I have a strong American accent. Oh yea, plus I asked if he spoke English. Is that not a clue? I speak Hebrew sometimes and the clerks automatically switch to English.) I succeeded in my task and was proud that I was able to do this in Hebrew.
A few weeks ago, I went to the Golan so here are some of the Pictures
Monday, October 10, 2011
Kapparot Kapparot
The night before Yom Kippur begins, there is a service called Slichot in which you ask individuals for forgiveness. Like all services, there was one held at the Kotel, the Western Wall.
On a normal day, the Kotel is crowded. There are the tourists who are seeing the Kotel for the first time. There are residents who are praying for a loved one. There are religious clans who are trying to complete the rest of the afternoon service in peace without tourists pushing them out of the way. Everyone is there for something different, whether its praying or awing. No matter who you are, though, there is a separation between men and women.
On this day, however, thousands of Jews flocked towards the Kotel at 11:30 at night. It was controlled in such a way that there was one way in and one way out. No other quarter was opened and all the shuks and restaurants were closed. Except for the ones in the Jewish quarter because Jews are always hungry. Throughout the main streets of Jerusalem and in the Old City, people were yelling "Kapparot, Kapparot" and chickens resided on the tables. Kipparot, which comes from the word "Kippur," means atonement. Tradition says to swing the chicken (or you can choose to use coins) around your head three times in order to rid of all sins. I did this unknowingly when I was stopped on the street and asked to give money to the poor. The rabbi said a blessing and swung the money around me three times.
I eventually made it down to the Kotel. For those who have been to there, there was no room to move from the beginning of the stairway/Menorah, but after pushing my way through, I made it to a spot where I could see and hear. There was a screen and a microphone so the prayers could be audible, but not understandable. In front of the Kotel were thousands of Jews praying to be absolved of their sins. I could literally see the black and white wave of shuckling (moving the body as one prays). I didn't know the people next to me or the people in front of me. But we were all Jews, American, Russian, Israeli. Secular, religious, ultra-orthodox. Together, we were at one of the most holy sites in the world and to be apart of it is just indescribable. This is why I love Israel. This is why I made Aliyah. Thousands of Jews together in one place all asking G-d for one thing. It is here that am proud to be Jewish.
For Yom Kippur, I went to a Sephardic synagogue. Besides some of the differences in the tunes, the only real difference from an Ashkenazic service were some of the prayers. However, some of the prayers that I did not recognize, I have come to like. Another difference that I keep seeing year after year is that there is more enthusiasm in the prayers. There may be a few pages of mumbling (that's where I usually kept getting lost), but as soon as a big song starts, the whole congregation puts their whole heart into it and belts it out so that the notes echo off the walls and can be heard from a few blocks away. And because there are four synagogues in the square, each prayer can be heard sequentially thus a continuation of prayers and notes are carried throughout the town.
On a normal day, the Kotel is crowded. There are the tourists who are seeing the Kotel for the first time. There are residents who are praying for a loved one. There are religious clans who are trying to complete the rest of the afternoon service in peace without tourists pushing them out of the way. Everyone is there for something different, whether its praying or awing. No matter who you are, though, there is a separation between men and women.
On this day, however, thousands of Jews flocked towards the Kotel at 11:30 at night. It was controlled in such a way that there was one way in and one way out. No other quarter was opened and all the shuks and restaurants were closed. Except for the ones in the Jewish quarter because Jews are always hungry. Throughout the main streets of Jerusalem and in the Old City, people were yelling "Kapparot, Kapparot" and chickens resided on the tables. Kipparot, which comes from the word "Kippur," means atonement. Tradition says to swing the chicken (or you can choose to use coins) around your head three times in order to rid of all sins. I did this unknowingly when I was stopped on the street and asked to give money to the poor. The rabbi said a blessing and swung the money around me three times.
I eventually made it down to the Kotel. For those who have been to there, there was no room to move from the beginning of the stairway/Menorah, but after pushing my way through, I made it to a spot where I could see and hear. There was a screen and a microphone so the prayers could be audible, but not understandable. In front of the Kotel were thousands of Jews praying to be absolved of their sins. I could literally see the black and white wave of shuckling (moving the body as one prays). I didn't know the people next to me or the people in front of me. But we were all Jews, American, Russian, Israeli. Secular, religious, ultra-orthodox. Together, we were at one of the most holy sites in the world and to be apart of it is just indescribable. This is why I love Israel. This is why I made Aliyah. Thousands of Jews together in one place all asking G-d for one thing. It is here that am proud to be Jewish.
For Yom Kippur, I went to a Sephardic synagogue. Besides some of the differences in the tunes, the only real difference from an Ashkenazic service were some of the prayers. However, some of the prayers that I did not recognize, I have come to like. Another difference that I keep seeing year after year is that there is more enthusiasm in the prayers. There may be a few pages of mumbling (that's where I usually kept getting lost), but as soon as a big song starts, the whole congregation puts their whole heart into it and belts it out so that the notes echo off the walls and can be heard from a few blocks away. And because there are four synagogues in the square, each prayer can be heard sequentially thus a continuation of prayers and notes are carried throughout the town.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Definitions
A while back, I read an article that said that Rosh Hashannah conists of just as much praying as it does eating. However, it depends on where in the world you are and what denomination of Judaism you are.
In the United States, Rosh Hashannah consists of going to synagogue, eating, and seeing family. If I am in the US during the holiday, my family goes to Erev Rosh Hashanna services and then eats a dinner of sweet foods to bring in the new year. The next two days are going to synagogue, eating a big lunch, and then seeing cousins. If Rosh Hashannah falls on a weekday, I take the day off from school and make up the work later. For, while I am observing the Jewish holiday, the rest of the world is going on about their business.
In Israel, my experience has been different every time. This time, I went to someone's house for the evening meal. Like last year, there was a small seder to bless certain foods such as pomegranate seeds, dates, and peas. However, unlike last year, the family said the prayers, ate, and moved onto the next blessing before everyone had received their share. The next morning, I went to services at an orthodox Sephardic synagogue. The lady I sat next to knew immediately that I was not a native because it took me two tries to get the right Machzor (prayer book used to Rosh Hashannah) and still did not succeed. So, she let me look on with her. Afterwards, I went on a hike at Ben Guvrin where there are multiple Byzantic caves to walk through. That night, there was no big meal and no family came over, which was very different for me. The next day, I went to the adventure park right outside Ramat Gan.
I am struggling with this, though. I did not feel this way when I went to the caves. Obviously G-d did not strike me down for not going to synagogue, but I felt like something was missing from the day. Maybe it's because I wasn't with my family. Or maybe because it didn't feel like Rosh Hashannah for me. There were families having barbecues in the park and cars filled the highway, but for me, this was just like Shabbat. I think part of it is that I have a certain expectation about Rosh Hashannah and certain prayers that I look forward to on this holiday. However, maybe because that was not fulfilled the feeling that something was missing evolved.
I hope to find that missing piece on Yom Kippur.
For now, here are some pictures
In the United States, Rosh Hashannah consists of going to synagogue, eating, and seeing family. If I am in the US during the holiday, my family goes to Erev Rosh Hashanna services and then eats a dinner of sweet foods to bring in the new year. The next two days are going to synagogue, eating a big lunch, and then seeing cousins. If Rosh Hashannah falls on a weekday, I take the day off from school and make up the work later. For, while I am observing the Jewish holiday, the rest of the world is going on about their business.
In Israel, my experience has been different every time. This time, I went to someone's house for the evening meal. Like last year, there was a small seder to bless certain foods such as pomegranate seeds, dates, and peas. However, unlike last year, the family said the prayers, ate, and moved onto the next blessing before everyone had received their share. The next morning, I went to services at an orthodox Sephardic synagogue. The lady I sat next to knew immediately that I was not a native because it took me two tries to get the right Machzor (prayer book used to Rosh Hashannah) and still did not succeed. So, she let me look on with her. Afterwards, I went on a hike at Ben Guvrin where there are multiple Byzantic caves to walk through. That night, there was no big meal and no family came over, which was very different for me. The next day, I went to the adventure park right outside Ramat Gan.
I am struggling with this, though. I did not feel this way when I went to the caves. Obviously G-d did not strike me down for not going to synagogue, but I felt like something was missing from the day. Maybe it's because I wasn't with my family. Or maybe because it didn't feel like Rosh Hashannah for me. There were families having barbecues in the park and cars filled the highway, but for me, this was just like Shabbat. I think part of it is that I have a certain expectation about Rosh Hashannah and certain prayers that I look forward to on this holiday. However, maybe because that was not fulfilled the feeling that something was missing evolved.
I hope to find that missing piece on Yom Kippur.
For now, here are some pictures
Monday, September 26, 2011
Yad Vashem
This week, I finished my visit with Yad Vashem. I stook my time reading all the plaques and looking at the pictures. I could feel myself losing focus and because I wanted to be able to absorb everything, I left after learning about Hitler's power and the rise of Nazis. Afterwards, I went to the Hall of Remembrance where the names of each concentration camp are laid out. It wasn't until the next day the I learned about the fate of two of the camps. Belzec had only one survivor and that Chelmno only had three survivors. These two facts had a big impact on me. Survivors I have heard speak were in Bergen-Belsen, Auschwitz, Dachau, or Treblinka. It never even occurred to me that these two camps, which I don't recall learning about by name, would have so few survivors.
In addition, one of the posters included information on the Nazi's next move. However, the war luckily ended before they could be put through. The plans included, by country, how many Jews they wanted to kill by the end of the next year. Most of the countries were in the hundred thousands. There was one country, I can't remember which one, but I think it was somewhere in Northern Europe, where the number listed was 200. The fact that this number even made the list is incomprehensible. They were so into their goal that everything mattered. Even this one little country.
One last thing that I had only heard small details about is the Einsatzgruppen. One specific operation killed over 30,000 Jews in two days. Or, a whole city completely wiped out. One SS officer wrote a letter to his wife and son that the first killing was hard, but after that it became habit. Habit! Everything I have learned about the bystander effect and group mentality in terms of the Holocaust is completely wiped away. Telling people to dig their own graves and to undress near it so that they will fall right in when they are shot is beyond inhumane. That's not group mentality, that's your own mind becoming insane.
The Nuremburg Trials were supposed to convict Nazis. One time when I learned about the Holocaust, my teacher asked us if the factory workers making Zyklon-B should be put on trial. Or if the train drivers. Technically, they didn't point the gun, but both workers had a big part in killing the Jews.
Though Yad Vashem is depressing, there is a certain spirit that I felt as I walked back outside after going through the museum. The inside of the building is full of dark terrible nightmares describing slaughters and mass murdering. But outside, the golden sun shimmers off the building. A garden winds through the Jerusalem forest towards Mount Herzel. The triangular building over looks Ein Kerem. I walked outside into the conclusion. It's very hard describe. I have been to the museum in DC and while the museum is good you don't get the same sense of pride as when you walk out the doors. When you walk out onto the DC streets you continue living as an American. But stepping out into the Israel air, you are continuing life as a Jew.
In addition, one of the posters included information on the Nazi's next move. However, the war luckily ended before they could be put through. The plans included, by country, how many Jews they wanted to kill by the end of the next year. Most of the countries were in the hundred thousands. There was one country, I can't remember which one, but I think it was somewhere in Northern Europe, where the number listed was 200. The fact that this number even made the list is incomprehensible. They were so into their goal that everything mattered. Even this one little country.
One last thing that I had only heard small details about is the Einsatzgruppen. One specific operation killed over 30,000 Jews in two days. Or, a whole city completely wiped out. One SS officer wrote a letter to his wife and son that the first killing was hard, but after that it became habit. Habit! Everything I have learned about the bystander effect and group mentality in terms of the Holocaust is completely wiped away. Telling people to dig their own graves and to undress near it so that they will fall right in when they are shot is beyond inhumane. That's not group mentality, that's your own mind becoming insane.
The Nuremburg Trials were supposed to convict Nazis. One time when I learned about the Holocaust, my teacher asked us if the factory workers making Zyklon-B should be put on trial. Or if the train drivers. Technically, they didn't point the gun, but both workers had a big part in killing the Jews.
Though Yad Vashem is depressing, there is a certain spirit that I felt as I walked back outside after going through the museum. The inside of the building is full of dark terrible nightmares describing slaughters and mass murdering. But outside, the golden sun shimmers off the building. A garden winds through the Jerusalem forest towards Mount Herzel. The triangular building over looks Ein Kerem. I walked outside into the conclusion. It's very hard describe. I have been to the museum in DC and while the museum is good you don't get the same sense of pride as when you walk out the doors. When you walk out onto the DC streets you continue living as an American. But stepping out into the Israel air, you are continuing life as a Jew.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Your Epidermis is Showing!
My thought process: It's hot out today. I'll wear these shorts and a tank top. But I'm going to the city center, I always feel so uncomfortable. I'll put a t-shirt over my tank top.
Fast forward a few hours: I go through the entrance of the supermarket. The guard gives me the go ahead to enter the store without checking my bag. As I am picking out apples, a different security guard comes up to me and tells me that they saw me on camera and that I am not dressed appropriately. I'm wearing a t-shirt and shorts, but apparently my shorts are too short. I am given a scarf to wrap around my waist so that my knees aren't showing. As a side note, I was not the only one in this situation. There were a few other women (and only women) who were also given scarves.
Yes, I am in a religious neighborhood. But I'm picking out apples from a bin, not from the Tree of Life, but the way that I was approached made it seem that way. If I'm in the parking lot of the store, the same people who saw me inside will see me outside and see the way I am dressed. It is my belief that on a hot day, I can wear shorts and a t-shirt in all different colors. If you are a religious woman (by which I mean a Black Hat), it is your belief to wear long skirts and long shirts in either black, grey, or blue. Just because I choose to express myself differently does not mean that my right should be taken away when I go food shopping.
But wait.
There's a sign in the front of the store that asks customers to dress appropriately because this is specific supermarket is a religious one. This company only owns a few other stores in the country, maybe two or three. So I should dress like they want me to...right?
( pictures )
( pictures )
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Tasting America and Israel
As I waited to get onto the plane for the second leg of my Aliyah flight, there were two people to check the tickets. One line was fuller than the other and of course I was in the fuller line. The other one was empty and the check-in lady told people to go to her side. The lady a few people behind me, an American, and I both stepped to her booth at the same time. There was an exchanging of "go, no you go, no you." before I finally stepped forward to end it. I felt that this was perfect in giving me my last taste of America. There was no pushing, no shoving, but rather a politeness factor.
After arriving in Israel, I went to the Ministry of Absorption to gather my teudat oleh (my ID indicating that I am new in the country). This sounds like it should have taken no more than five minutes, which technically it didn't. However, we had to wait for every person from the previous flights and my flight to get their ID cards. So about twenty people. Then we had to wait for the bus to drive everyone back to the airport and pick up luggage. But finally I was in Israel and on the drive home, the sun set over Jerusalem.
The next few day then consisted of setting up everything you need to live. But I was not able to sign up a cell phone or a bank account or ulpan until I received my teudat zehut (my permanent ID). In the meantime, I investigated the banks and cell hone companies. There are two major banks in Jerusalem and a few other ones that are not as prominent. In the end, I just chose a bank where the people were the nicest. Though at the one I chose, the teller told me that I wasn't allowed to open an account unless I lived in that neighborhood, but he would allow it this one time. For cell phones, the first place I looked, the seller wouldn't give me any discounts as an oleh (immigrant) which I am entitled to, until the person I brought with me told him that he himself, has this company. Then all of a sudden, the seller started taking discounts, but he also stopped talking to me. The second place I went, which I was reluctant to go to in the first place because it's logo gives an expensive look, was immediately nicer. They offered me a discount when I showed my ID, they told us to sit down, have some water (which they do literally everywhere there is business to be done. This happened at the bank too), and discuss my options. Because this company was nicer and actually talked to me as well as inexpensive, I chose them.
After waiting an hour at the Ministy of Interior (Misrad HaPanim), which was a quick name, parents name, prove you're Jewish and were born (all of which I needed before making Aliyah), I opened a bank account and received a cell phone. Oh, but then I had to go back to the Ministy of Absorption to tell them my bank account number and cell phone, but I need to make an appointment. And I found this out after waiting an hour in line.
Except for the red tape, everything else is going great. On Friday morning, I could really feel Shabbat in the air. Black hats were scurrying, cars were bumper to bumper, and everyone had somewhere to be. For the weekend, I went to the beach, which was absolutely gorgeous. Afterwards, I went food shopping and since it was hot outside I was wearing a tank top (a real tank top, not spaghetti straps) and shorts. When I walked in, the guard told me that because my shoulders were showing, I had to wear a scarf over my shirt.
First of all, my shoulder were mostly covered. It was the kind of shirt that stretch at the shoulders. Second of all, this was food shopping. I understand if it was a holy place, but last time I checked Pastafarians don't care whether or not my shoulders are covered. I took the scarf off later and no one bothered me, but still.
And by the way, Pastafarian is a real religion recognize by the government.
Pictures should be up shortly.
After arriving in Israel, I went to the Ministry of Absorption to gather my teudat oleh (my ID indicating that I am new in the country). This sounds like it should have taken no more than five minutes, which technically it didn't. However, we had to wait for every person from the previous flights and my flight to get their ID cards. So about twenty people. Then we had to wait for the bus to drive everyone back to the airport and pick up luggage. But finally I was in Israel and on the drive home, the sun set over Jerusalem.
The next few day then consisted of setting up everything you need to live. But I was not able to sign up a cell phone or a bank account or ulpan until I received my teudat zehut (my permanent ID). In the meantime, I investigated the banks and cell hone companies. There are two major banks in Jerusalem and a few other ones that are not as prominent. In the end, I just chose a bank where the people were the nicest. Though at the one I chose, the teller told me that I wasn't allowed to open an account unless I lived in that neighborhood, but he would allow it this one time. For cell phones, the first place I looked, the seller wouldn't give me any discounts as an oleh (immigrant) which I am entitled to, until the person I brought with me told him that he himself, has this company. Then all of a sudden, the seller started taking discounts, but he also stopped talking to me. The second place I went, which I was reluctant to go to in the first place because it's logo gives an expensive look, was immediately nicer. They offered me a discount when I showed my ID, they told us to sit down, have some water (which they do literally everywhere there is business to be done. This happened at the bank too), and discuss my options. Because this company was nicer and actually talked to me as well as inexpensive, I chose them.
After waiting an hour at the Ministy of Interior (Misrad HaPanim), which was a quick name, parents name, prove you're Jewish and were born (all of which I needed before making Aliyah), I opened a bank account and received a cell phone. Oh, but then I had to go back to the Ministy of Absorption to tell them my bank account number and cell phone, but I need to make an appointment. And I found this out after waiting an hour in line.
Except for the red tape, everything else is going great. On Friday morning, I could really feel Shabbat in the air. Black hats were scurrying, cars were bumper to bumper, and everyone had somewhere to be. For the weekend, I went to the beach, which was absolutely gorgeous. Afterwards, I went food shopping and since it was hot outside I was wearing a tank top (a real tank top, not spaghetti straps) and shorts. When I walked in, the guard told me that because my shoulders were showing, I had to wear a scarf over my shirt.
First of all, my shoulder were mostly covered. It was the kind of shirt that stretch at the shoulders. Second of all, this was food shopping. I understand if it was a holy place, but last time I checked Pastafarians don't care whether or not my shoulders are covered. I took the scarf off later and no one bothered me, but still.
And by the way, Pastafarian is a real religion recognize by the government.
Pictures should be up shortly.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Waiting is Patience
There is a psychology test called The Marshamallow Test. This measures how well children can delay gratification. Children around the age of four are given a marshmallow. They are told that if they can wait twenty minutes they will get two marshmallows instead of one. The study looks at temptation and gratification. Those who wait the twenty minutes are said to be able to delay gratification better than those who eat the marshmallow before the time is up. The findings suggest that those who are able to wait the five minutes and delay gratification end up doing better in school, form longer lasting friendships, and overall more successful in life.
As a human race, we all find waiting hard.We wait in line. We wait for the mail. We wait for vacation. These are short-term waits. Most of us just grow impatient and afterwards complain about the elderly lady who paid for her purchase all in pennies. However, we wait eighteen years to be an adult. We wait sixteen years to finish school and get a degree to work. We wait to have a family. We wait so long we never think it is going to arrive. Knowing that something you want is close and only one this stands between you and your goal is so irking. You just want to skip the steps and go directly to the goal. You think that skipping over these steps can't make that much of a difference, right? Imagine skipping over childhood. You wouldn't know how to function in society. Or going right into the workforce. You'd have no skills. So, as impatient as waiting for something is, all the steps need to be completed and are necessary in reaching your goal.
Right now I am waiting to go to Israel. I am trying to be patient and wait for all the right documents to come in, but it is hard. I just want to fly there myself, literally. Use my two arms to fly over there now. Swim across the cold Atlantic and be there. But instead of wasting that amount of time and money, I am waiting. Patiently. But patience wears low. For trying to not think about Israel only makes me think about it more.
Like the White Bear experiment The more you are told not think about something, the more likely you are to have it stuck in your head. Ever hear of "The Game" ? The loser is the one who thinks of The Game first and thus loses for thinking about it.
As a human race, we all find waiting hard.We wait in line. We wait for the mail. We wait for vacation. These are short-term waits. Most of us just grow impatient and afterwards complain about the elderly lady who paid for her purchase all in pennies. However, we wait eighteen years to be an adult. We wait sixteen years to finish school and get a degree to work. We wait to have a family. We wait so long we never think it is going to arrive. Knowing that something you want is close and only one this stands between you and your goal is so irking. You just want to skip the steps and go directly to the goal. You think that skipping over these steps can't make that much of a difference, right? Imagine skipping over childhood. You wouldn't know how to function in society. Or going right into the workforce. You'd have no skills. So, as impatient as waiting for something is, all the steps need to be completed and are necessary in reaching your goal.
Right now I am waiting to go to Israel. I am trying to be patient and wait for all the right documents to come in, but it is hard. I just want to fly there myself, literally. Use my two arms to fly over there now. Swim across the cold Atlantic and be there. But instead of wasting that amount of time and money, I am waiting. Patiently. But patience wears low. For trying to not think about Israel only makes me think about it more.
Like the White Bear experiment The more you are told not think about something, the more likely you are to have it stuck in your head. Ever hear of "The Game" ? The loser is the one who thinks of The Game first and thus loses for thinking about it.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Prove it
Part of the aliyah process is proving that you are Jewish. This can be done in few ways. In my case, it's either my parents' ketubah (marriage certificate in Hebrew) or a letter from the rabbi. Being that the Ketubah is permanently in a frame, I opted for the letter. It's a simple statement saying that I was born to a Jewish mother and so I am halachikally Jewish.
This got me thinking. Who is "more" Jewish? The person who was born to only a Jewish father and knows all the rituals of Judasim? Or a person who was born to a Jewish mother, but knows nothing of the customs. That is to say, shouldn't a person who is spiritually connected to the religion be more accepted as a Jew than the Jew who has no spiritual connection?
I have many friends who are Jewish through their father. They know the customs and laws and are very involved in synagogue. They know Hebrew and go to Shabbat services. They are obviously very devoted to their Judaism. However, it is in my opinion that if they are that devoted towards the religion then they should respect the laws. I have made it clear in previous posts that it is my personal opinion that I think that people who are born Jewish through their father should go through a conversion process. However, if you tell me that you are Jewish I'm not going to ask you "through your mother or through your father?" It's disrespectful. If you consider yourself a Jew, then I do too. I will not disregard you as Jewish if you tell me your father is a Jew and not your mother, but just don't tell me you are half-Jewish. Either you are or you aren't.
I also have friends who are Jewish through their mother, but know nothing about Judaism. They never observe any of the holidays, the only Hebrew word they know is "Shalom", and don't give much thought to the religion in general. Well, obviously these people are Jewish, right? According to the Torah, yes.
But I'm not so sure. More religious people may think that I am "less" Jewish than they are and that hurts. When I would walk through the shuk in my jeans and tank top, the glares I would get from religious Jews said "I am more superior than you because I follow the correct laws of Judaism." But that's stupid. I consider myself Jewish despite that I don't follow all the laws of the Torah. I can't go and give someone who less religious than me that same look. I know how it feels. How can I tell someone they are not of the religion they grew up with? To tell them that they can believe all the stories in the bible and go through all the rituals, but not consider them a Jew? How can I do that? Judaism entails many different laws and everyone observes them differently. I have no say in anything. You can do as you please and if you feel you are Jewish then my all means go ahead and be as Jewish as you want. For the only one that can truly judge you is G-d.
This got me thinking. Who is "more" Jewish? The person who was born to only a Jewish father and knows all the rituals of Judasim? Or a person who was born to a Jewish mother, but knows nothing of the customs. That is to say, shouldn't a person who is spiritually connected to the religion be more accepted as a Jew than the Jew who has no spiritual connection?
I have many friends who are Jewish through their father. They know the customs and laws and are very involved in synagogue. They know Hebrew and go to Shabbat services. They are obviously very devoted to their Judaism. However, it is in my opinion that if they are that devoted towards the religion then they should respect the laws. I have made it clear in previous posts that it is my personal opinion that I think that people who are born Jewish through their father should go through a conversion process. However, if you tell me that you are Jewish I'm not going to ask you "through your mother or through your father?" It's disrespectful. If you consider yourself a Jew, then I do too. I will not disregard you as Jewish if you tell me your father is a Jew and not your mother, but just don't tell me you are half-Jewish. Either you are or you aren't.
I also have friends who are Jewish through their mother, but know nothing about Judaism. They never observe any of the holidays, the only Hebrew word they know is "Shalom", and don't give much thought to the religion in general. Well, obviously these people are Jewish, right? According to the Torah, yes.
But I'm not so sure. More religious people may think that I am "less" Jewish than they are and that hurts. When I would walk through the shuk in my jeans and tank top, the glares I would get from religious Jews said "I am more superior than you because I follow the correct laws of Judaism." But that's stupid. I consider myself Jewish despite that I don't follow all the laws of the Torah. I can't go and give someone who less religious than me that same look. I know how it feels. How can I tell someone they are not of the religion they grew up with? To tell them that they can believe all the stories in the bible and go through all the rituals, but not consider them a Jew? How can I do that? Judaism entails many different laws and everyone observes them differently. I have no say in anything. You can do as you please and if you feel you are Jewish then my all means go ahead and be as Jewish as you want. For the only one that can truly judge you is G-d.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Listen to Your Heart
For half of my childhood, I was questioned by by peers. "What are those triangle cookies?", "What's matzah?", "You only get 8 presents?". It's gets exhausting and annoying to have to answer these questions. When I moved to a more Jewish town, the questions changed from "eww, that's gross" inquiries to "I genuinely want to know" wonderments. While it was still somewhat bothersome to always have to explain why I was taking a day off from school, I was more ok with answering these questions because in return I would ask my friends of other ethnicities about their own culture. We traded information because we wanted to know not because we wanted to tease.
Everyone wants to be different. But then when we are different, we feel offended that people can't understand that our differences is what makes us unique. We tease and mock others who are are outside the group of conformity and yet we continue to say "I am different." But really, we're all the same. We want to be different, but not too different. We want to stand out from the group, but we don't want to be in the fringe. So while being Jewish has given me a sense of uniqueness, there was always a part of me that wondered what it was like to be in a place where the rules of religion were understood.
And for me, that place is Israel.
Living there for four or six months at a time just doesn't give me the sense of belonging. I still feel like a visitor no matter how well I know my location. And so, I am about to do what will hurt my family the most.
A move to Israel.
How am I supposed to explain that moving to Israel is something I need to do? If I don't I will regret this for the rest of my life. There are proven studies that say you regret inaction more than actions. So, even if I do end up hating life there, at least I tried. I had the guts to move to a different country. On the other hand, life is short and this is the time of my life when it's ok to pick up and go. It's ok to take adventures. There's nothing holding me back. Family will always be here and I will always love them and I will always be thinking of them. It may seem like I am abandoning the family I have known for almost 23 years, but it's not abandonment. I'm not leaving the US without looking back. I am tucking them in my backpack to pull out at any time. Trust me when I say I will be thinking of everyone. I will be feeling guilty for missing certain events. But, family will always be important. My mother taught me that.
I want to move to Israel for a million reasons. I can't explain every single one. I have tried hard in previous posts to illustrate exactly why I love Israel. Life in the United States isn't terrible. I have a good life. I had a good education. I am cultured and traveled. I have always known when the next meal was. I have always had a roof over my head. I have had parents who love me and support me. I am lucky to have been born in such a fortunate family. But that's just it. Sometimes you have to do something out of your comfort zone in order to fully appreciate what life has given you. I understand that it's not just my comfort zone I am walking out of. It's all of my family's and friends' comfort zone and it's this, that I think hurts them the most.
I know my move will be hard on my family, but I hope they understand that this is something I want/have to do.
Everyone wants to be different. But then when we are different, we feel offended that people can't understand that our differences is what makes us unique. We tease and mock others who are are outside the group of conformity and yet we continue to say "I am different." But really, we're all the same. We want to be different, but not too different. We want to stand out from the group, but we don't want to be in the fringe. So while being Jewish has given me a sense of uniqueness, there was always a part of me that wondered what it was like to be in a place where the rules of religion were understood.
And for me, that place is Israel.
Living there for four or six months at a time just doesn't give me the sense of belonging. I still feel like a visitor no matter how well I know my location. And so, I am about to do what will hurt my family the most.
A move to Israel.
How am I supposed to explain that moving to Israel is something I need to do? If I don't I will regret this for the rest of my life. There are proven studies that say you regret inaction more than actions. So, even if I do end up hating life there, at least I tried. I had the guts to move to a different country. On the other hand, life is short and this is the time of my life when it's ok to pick up and go. It's ok to take adventures. There's nothing holding me back. Family will always be here and I will always love them and I will always be thinking of them. It may seem like I am abandoning the family I have known for almost 23 years, but it's not abandonment. I'm not leaving the US without looking back. I am tucking them in my backpack to pull out at any time. Trust me when I say I will be thinking of everyone. I will be feeling guilty for missing certain events. But, family will always be important. My mother taught me that.
I want to move to Israel for a million reasons. I can't explain every single one. I have tried hard in previous posts to illustrate exactly why I love Israel. Life in the United States isn't terrible. I have a good life. I had a good education. I am cultured and traveled. I have always known when the next meal was. I have always had a roof over my head. I have had parents who love me and support me. I am lucky to have been born in such a fortunate family. But that's just it. Sometimes you have to do something out of your comfort zone in order to fully appreciate what life has given you. I understand that it's not just my comfort zone I am walking out of. It's all of my family's and friends' comfort zone and it's this, that I think hurts them the most.
I know my move will be hard on my family, but I hope they understand that this is something I want/have to do.
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