Posts
Finally. After all my kvetching, we finally seem to be having a normal winter. It rains on and off for several days in a row before returning to sunny and warm. I saw an article in the Jerusalem Post that announced that all the streams in northern Israel are flowing fully for the first time in seven years!
We had floods in the south (I also read that in three days last week they got half their normal annual rainfall, and that the southern reservoirs and aquifers are already full). It is truly satisfying to realize that we will probably have less stress about rain this year. Which is a relative statement.
Here is a benefit that I hadn’t known about. When the streams are flowing, the streambeds are flushed of all the accumulated waste and other materials that build up over time. In many places, this process, which is essential for the ecology of the area, has not happened for several years. It also provides a healthier chemical balance to the reservoirs and aquifers, which may have had higher concentrations of bacteria and other contaminants as their water levels lowered.
Even if we have above-average rainfall this year, we will still be in a critical situation as far as our water reserves are concerned. We will still need a couple more good years to get to a point that would be considered normal. And of course, I still cannot report the actual results of all the rain on the water supply. The water workers are still on strike and refuse to measure the water levels.
I know that it seems like I am in a “water rut” and cannot get off the subject. For people who do not live here, I don’t think it’s possible to explain how visceral the water issue becomes and how exuberant people can get over a couple of weeks of rain.
Winter also brings new and exciting experiences in Chaya’s search for a sherut leumi (national service) program for next year. Many of her old friends are busy evaluating seminaries and other programs to participate in next year; for many it will be their first experience in Israel.
Sherut leumi is run by the army (*ed note: it is actually run by private non-profits FOR the army) and is surprisingly well organized. In order to qualify, Chaya had to appear before a rabbi from the Jerusalem rabbanut and affirm that she is religious and is utilizing her option for national service. (Aliza has been talking about doing actual army service in a religious unit—don’t ask.) She then filed her approval for the program with the army. Throughout 12th grade, her school has had seminars and workshops to prepare the girls for the sherut leumi year.
Should they live at home, or in an apartment? (Many of the programs maintain apartments for the girls or shared apartments with girls from several programs). What part of the country should they be in? Are they looking for experience that may lead to a career, or just a positive experience in helping others before they begin developing a career track? And many other issues.
At some point, the girls register their details on the sherut leumi website, including a picture and other biographical information. I think that the schools also enter information (including recommendations) via the site.
Then comes the big day—when the girls can register to interview for the various openings. The more popular programs fill up quickly, so the girls are all at their computers, searching, identifying, and registering. The program coordinators sometimes reject specific applications, resulting in open slots for their programs, so it pays to keep checking. Otherwise, a personal site visit (usually as part of a group) is scheduled.
Chaya went on her first site visit/interview last week. Thank goodness it is finally over. Getting that first one done is such a relief, since it removes uncertainty about what to do and expect.
Chaya has decided that she wants to work with the elderly. She has visited senior centers as part of her school activities and she enjoys the interaction. Since this is not one of the more sought-after jobs, the competition is much less fierce and she will likely get to choose from several positions offered to her. (Aliza—if she doesn’t go to the army—has announced her desire to work with orphans or foster children, very competitive tracks.)
Chaya came back from the interview very excited. She is pretty definite that she does not want that specific job, but they liked her enough to ask her back to interview for a different job in the organization. And she is refining her concept of what she is looking for.
This is all very nerve-racking for her parents. Neither of us has any experience with this, and we are both incredibly anxious that things work for her. Knowing that she wants to live away from home causes us even more anxiety.
I am not sure how long the process takes (I admit I was playing games on my phone during the amazingly long and boring parents’ orientation), but at some point soon offers will be made and the girls will choose. And the parents will cry when they see (i) how big their little girl is, (ii) how far they have come in such a short time, and (iii) that it really is happening.
I haven’t shared any “only in Israel” moments in a while (the water authority being on strike doesn’t count). A few weeks before we made aliyah, Yehuda Daphna commented to me, “I would warn you to be careful about Israelis. You need to push there to get what you want.” He added, “But I am not worried about you; you know how to push,” which I think was a compliment. I was reminded of this comment several times in the last week.
In America, when someone would say, “Our policy is . . .” it would mean that the actual company policy was about to be stated and would be adhered to. In Israel, not so much. I don’t mean to say that that is necessarily bad, just that the cultural signals are different.
I visited the doctor last week. Nothing major. He decided to prescribe some sleeping pills for when I travel; I have tremendous difficulty getting a full night’s sleep away from home and I will be traveling for three out of the next four weeks (yes, I am writing this on my cell phone at 30,000 feet—baruch Hashem for the QWERTY keypad).
When I filled the first prescription at the kupat cholim (HMO) pharmacy, the pharmacist told me that I needed to replace my membership card, since the magnetic strip wasn’t working properly. This card is part of the incredibly well-computerized system. Every time I do anything in the kupah — see a doctor, get a shot, buy medicine, get a blood test, or whatever — they swipe my card and everything is automatically entered into my file. My doctor sees everything and can monitor everything from his computer.
The card is therefore your lifeline to services, and if it isn’t working, it is a real pain. If you lose your card, they charge you for the replacement. I think it costs $8 to replace. However, if the card isn’t working (they are really cheap and sometimes they peel or otherwise stop working), the replacement is supposed to be free.
On my next visit to the medical building, I stopped at the receptionist to order a new card. She took a look at the card and told me that they would be charging me for the new card, since I obviously rubbed out the magnetic strip by not keeping it in a safe place. And she said the magic words, “It is company policy.”
I objected and asked her for a pair of scissors. She asked me why I needed the scissors, and I told her that I was going to cut the card in half, since the last time my card needed replacing was when it split in half—and that time it was free. She repeated that the damage was obviously my fault and there was no way they should be responsible for my negligence.
So I took every single one of my credit, debit, ID, and membership cards out of my wallet—anything with a magnetic stripe on it. I showed her how all the other cards were fine and pointed out that only my kupah card was affected. I said that I shouldn’t be held responsible for the fact that they use cheap cards.
She thought about that for a second, she turned to the other receptionist, and they both nodded their heads and said OK. She pushed a few buttons on her keyboard and poof—my free replacement card was ordered. No need to call someone for an override or get the supervisor to approve. She had the ability to do it the entire time.
This morning, as I did online check-in, I wanted to move from a middle seat to a window (I like to sleep against the wall). For some reason the computer wouldn’t register the change, so I called El Al. The agent assured me that once I was in check-in, she could not process my record and I would need to complete the process myself. I explained that I did not want her to process my check-in, only to move my seat. She kept telling me that they do not have access to check-in. After a couple of go-rounds, she suddenly said, “Hold on; let me see what I can do.” After two minutes on hold, she came back and asked me what seat I wanted. Another 90 seconds, and voilà—I had my seat!
Culturally, we have learned that “It is company policy” or “I am not authorized” or even sometimes a simple “no” are just attempts at getting you to go away. If you accept the denial, they can move on to the next person. It isn’t laziness; it is simply the first line of defense. When we really don’t care too much about the outcome, we accept the “no” and go on to something else. Yet persistence often does work. People do want to help; they just need to know that it is important to you.
Some people think screaming or belligerence works. Often it does. But I prefer to be firm yet polite. (Usually.) I think that the other person appreciates the lack of screaming, and I find that even if I don’t get what I want, I am usually less upset than if I had lost my temper.
After I had finished writing this column, the flight attendants came by and asked if I would fill out a customer survey. She then gave me the Hebrew version to fill out. I still get a kick out of the fact that they have an innate sense that — as American as I think I appear—they can communicate with me just as easily in Hebrew.
For the second time in four years, I will be in the USA for Tu B’Shvat. The first time, I brought Israeli fruits to eat. This time I forgot. Let’s hope that next year’s fruits will be the fruits of terumah that I (as a kohein) will have been given in a rebuilt Eretz Yisrael.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Company Policy (2/1/2010)
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
A Water Strike (1/13/2010)
Writer's block is defined in Wikkipedia as a condition "in which an author loses the ability to create new work." However you define it, I have had a pretty bad case of it lately. I have gotten a few e-mails asking if we are OK, and I think Larry Gordon was organizing a search party to see what happened to me. All I can say is that I sat in front of the keyboard for hours each week and had nothing to say. Unlike me, I know.
It is winter here, which in Israel usually means it is the rainy season. Many of you will now sigh and think to yourselves, "Oh no, not another article about how low the Kinneret is." Well, you are right-this isn't going to be one, although I will mention that as of January 1, the level of the Kineret is 213.94 and has risen 43 cm. since the lowest level of the year. We are 94 cm. below the lower red line. Last year it went down about 1.6 meters from the end of the rainy season to the low point, so to get to last year's starting level we need about 120 cm. of additional rain to fall, all in the next three to four months (or about 35 cm a month-a little more than 8 cm each week). Yet, as I said, that is not the focus of this column (although you should definitely pray for RAIN, RAIN, RAIN).
You might have found it curious that I noted the water level as of January 1 instead of a more current measurement. I had no choice, because there are no more recent measurements of the Kinneret. As you may recall from a column last year, the Kinneret is normally measured by the government's water authority almost every day of the year. The water authority then publishes the results via various media, including a website that notes the rise or fall of the water level since the prior measurement (I have created a link for it at http://bit.ly/kinneret). If you go to that website you will discover that no measurements have been posted since December 3. Why? Because the people who measure the Kinneret are on strike!
I was able to get the January 1 data from an independent weather service source. It appears that they are measuring the Kinneret once or twice a month in order to provide their web visitors a more accurate reflection of the rain results than the government.
You might think that this is no big deal, but it is a very big deal. In the last year, the government imposed a tax on heavy users of water, repealed the tax, instituted a "save the Kinneret" ad campaign, and finally raised water prices across the board for every consumer by 25 percent, no matter how much their standard usage level is. All of these measures were proposed in order to encourage water conservation in a time of national crisis in water levels.
The water crisis is literally a nationwide concern, since we live in a very arid environment. Running out of water would literally cripple the country.
Since this is such an important issue, I would think that the government would make sure that someone is monitoring the situation. Each up and down tick in the level of the Kinneret is a reflection of the water resources we will have for the coming year, and it should be imperative that they continue to keep this information at the forefront of the national consciousness in order to maintain the public's commitment to conservation. Plus, they need to keep a close watch on where we stand in order to determine if additional actions need to be taken.
Yet, in what can only be described as "Israeli sechel"-or lack of it-a strike by the water authority's workers is allowed to cripple monitoring activities and the effectiveness of conservation efforts. And no one seems to care.
We did get one piece of good news. The first of four planned desalination plants opened last week, providing a small measure of relief to the water system. It will take several months for the plant to get up to full capacity, but it is a start. Three other plants are in various stages of completion, but it will be a long time before we can breathe a sigh of relief that these plants have solved the crisis in a meaningful way.
The plants are another reflection of the Israeli system's attitude toward long-term planning. These are expensive undertakings, and no prime minister wants to spend a lot of money on something that will take years to be built. After all, they most probably won't be in office when the facility opens, so they won't get credit for the job. For them it will look like an expense with no return, since the rewards will be reaped in the future.
What a country.
In other news, PUAH had our annual conference on women's health and fertility issues last week in Yerushalayim. Over 1,500 people attended the conference which was deemed a success by the media here. In the course of the day, I was interviewed for Arutz 7 English Television (to see the report go to http://bit.ly/arutz7shmu). I was not expecting to be on camera, so if I look a bit surprised to be there, I was.
We are actually planning a mini-symposium for New York in February. As part of the annual dinner, we will be having a panel of experts (both rabbinic and medical) weigh in on a hypothetical case. Each side will explain their approach to the situation and Puah will then summarize how to merge the different opinions into a cohesive plan.
I am sure it will be interesting (especially since I am directing the video shoot). An ad for the event can be found elsewhere in the Five Towns Jewish Times. Please consider coming.
Finally, I need to wish a mazal tov to Stu and Francine Friedman on the marriage of their son Seth. The wedding was very nice, and we got to see a lot of the Five Towns yeshiva students. Their parents know who they are, and they all looked terrific!
It is winter here, which in Israel usually means it is the rainy season. Many of you will now sigh and think to yourselves, "Oh no, not another article about how low the Kinneret is." Well, you are right-this isn't going to be one, although I will mention that as of January 1, the level of the Kineret is 213.94 and has risen 43 cm. since the lowest level of the year. We are 94 cm. below the lower red line. Last year it went down about 1.6 meters from the end of the rainy season to the low point, so to get to last year's starting level we need about 120 cm. of additional rain to fall, all in the next three to four months (or about 35 cm a month-a little more than 8 cm each week). Yet, as I said, that is not the focus of this column (although you should definitely pray for RAIN, RAIN, RAIN).
You might have found it curious that I noted the water level as of January 1 instead of a more current measurement. I had no choice, because there are no more recent measurements of the Kinneret. As you may recall from a column last year, the Kinneret is normally measured by the government's water authority almost every day of the year. The water authority then publishes the results via various media, including a website that notes the rise or fall of the water level since the prior measurement (I have created a link for it at http://bit.ly/kinneret). If you go to that website you will discover that no measurements have been posted since December 3. Why? Because the people who measure the Kinneret are on strike!
I was able to get the January 1 data from an independent weather service source. It appears that they are measuring the Kinneret once or twice a month in order to provide their web visitors a more accurate reflection of the rain results than the government.
You might think that this is no big deal, but it is a very big deal. In the last year, the government imposed a tax on heavy users of water, repealed the tax, instituted a "save the Kinneret" ad campaign, and finally raised water prices across the board for every consumer by 25 percent, no matter how much their standard usage level is. All of these measures were proposed in order to encourage water conservation in a time of national crisis in water levels.
The water crisis is literally a nationwide concern, since we live in a very arid environment. Running out of water would literally cripple the country.
Since this is such an important issue, I would think that the government would make sure that someone is monitoring the situation. Each up and down tick in the level of the Kinneret is a reflection of the water resources we will have for the coming year, and it should be imperative that they continue to keep this information at the forefront of the national consciousness in order to maintain the public's commitment to conservation. Plus, they need to keep a close watch on where we stand in order to determine if additional actions need to be taken.
Yet, in what can only be described as "Israeli sechel"-or lack of it-a strike by the water authority's workers is allowed to cripple monitoring activities and the effectiveness of conservation efforts. And no one seems to care.
We did get one piece of good news. The first of four planned desalination plants opened last week, providing a small measure of relief to the water system. It will take several months for the plant to get up to full capacity, but it is a start. Three other plants are in various stages of completion, but it will be a long time before we can breathe a sigh of relief that these plants have solved the crisis in a meaningful way.
The plants are another reflection of the Israeli system's attitude toward long-term planning. These are expensive undertakings, and no prime minister wants to spend a lot of money on something that will take years to be built. After all, they most probably won't be in office when the facility opens, so they won't get credit for the job. For them it will look like an expense with no return, since the rewards will be reaped in the future.
What a country.
In other news, PUAH had our annual conference on women's health and fertility issues last week in Yerushalayim. Over 1,500 people attended the conference which was deemed a success by the media here. In the course of the day, I was interviewed for Arutz 7 English Television (to see the report go to http://bit.ly/arutz7shmu). I was not expecting to be on camera, so if I look a bit surprised to be there, I was.
We are actually planning a mini-symposium for New York in February. As part of the annual dinner, we will be having a panel of experts (both rabbinic and medical) weigh in on a hypothetical case. Each side will explain their approach to the situation and Puah will then summarize how to merge the different opinions into a cohesive plan.
I am sure it will be interesting (especially since I am directing the video shoot). An ad for the event can be found elsewhere in the Five Towns Jewish Times. Please consider coming.
Finally, I need to wish a mazal tov to Stu and Francine Friedman on the marriage of their son Seth. The wedding was very nice, and we got to see a lot of the Five Towns yeshiva students. Their parents know who they are, and they all looked terrific!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
California Dreaming (12/16/2009)
Regular readers of this column will already anticipate the next few paragraphs. If it is my winter trip to the U.S., I must have gotten sick. Actually, we had a mini-epidemic in the house, with everyone getting sick. This also means that it must be Chanukah time. I think the only person who did not get sick so far (B'H) was Moshe. And, inevitably, my cold was at its worst for my flight to California and the first few days of my trip.
I was privileged to spend Shabbat with the kehillah of Rabbi Kalman Topp, the former assistant rabbi at the Young Israel of Woodmere. It was great to see him and see how wonderfully he has embraced and been embraced by his new community. Everyone we met spoke glowingly of him as an orator, a rabbinic leader, and as a great choice for their community.
I was in California for Puah's scholar-in-residence weekend with the director of counseling (English-speaking) Rabbi Gideon Weitzman. Rabbi Weitzman gave several lectures over Shabbat and, as part of our expanding Continuing Medical Education certification, we were hosted by the shul (Beth Jacob of Beverly Hills) for a CME symposium as well, along with Dr. Snunit ben Ozer, a local fertility specialist.
This was also the first opportunity for us to celebrate our recent selection as a winner of the 2009 Jewish Choice Award from GreatNonProfits. This organization conducted a survey of various non-profit organizations over (I think) an eight-week period. Out of something like 4,000 submissions of recommendations for various organizations, Puah was ranked number 1 in the International Jewish Non Profit category, a terrific honor.
I had a hard time booking tickets for the trip, which also included a stop in Dallas. I had reserved a seat for Monday night's flight to Newark, planning on going to Dallas before Los Angeles and returning on the direct flight from L.A. to Tel Aviv. However, I couldn't confirm my schedule by the expiration of the reservation and let it lapse.
The next day, when I was ready to purchase a ticket, my travel agent couldn't find any seats on the original flight. He tried changing connection cities for Dallas or leaving a day earlier and could not find anything that worked. I couldn't figure out why the planes had so suddenly filled up until I realized that my flight was leaving the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Apparently, many last-minute travelers took seats on the Israel-U.S. flights and there was simply nothing available.
You would think that I, as a person who works in the U.S. on a regular basis, would be cognizant of the U.S. holidays and how they might affect my schedule. Yet I seem to have adjusted to the Israeli calendar and enjoy the lack of "American" stuff on my schedule (except for Sundays - I don't think I will ever adjust to Sunday being a full day of work).
No Turkeys or fat guys in red clothing in my neighborhood. No bunnies or phony holidays that are excuses to make big sales. (Side note: Chaim spent the entire night/morning of "Black Friday" running from store to store with some friends, looking for bargains). My little kids don't even know what Thanksgiving is, and have totally forgotten the winter decorations and other "holiday" celebrations we would trip over throughout November and December.
Having ignored the calendar, I was forced to reorganize my trip, but in true "it always happens for the best" fashion, I was able to shorten the trip by a day and get home to the family a little faster, a couple of days before Chanukah.
Chanukah is one of my favorite holidays. I especially enjoy taking a post-dinner stroll through the neighborhood to see the various chanukiyot, which are lit in special wind-resistant glass boxes outside homes in Israel. Seeing home after home of chanukiyot reminds me that we are living in the Jewish land. This year, my celebration will be doubly enhanced, with two Shabbatot Chanukah to enjoy.
As we did last year, we're heading to Eilat for a Chanukah mini-vacation. This year, we're part of a group of 27 families staying together and joining each other for various day trips and tiyulim as well. We even have an option to tour Petra (in Jordan), which I had originally signed up for but decided to cancel so that I could spend more time with the little kids. I am helping arrange tours of one of the major dairies, which is located just north of Eilat.
We hope that you and your family enjoy a terrific Chanukah and get to enjoy special family time together reveling in the celebration of the miracle of the recapture of the Beit HaMikdash - if only for a very short time. We hope and pray that we celebrate the rebuilding of the final Beit HaMikdash at the same time. If not, l'shanah haba'ah b'Yerushalayim habenuyah.
A special mazal tov to our dear friends Dr. David and Shira Wiseman on the birth of their son. Mazal tov also to our friends and neighbors Motti and Penina Eichler (formerly of Cedarhurst) and Dr. Herman and Mrs. Mia Weiss (formerly of West Hempstead) who are celebrating their daughters' bat mitzvahs in the coming week as well. May we all continue to share s'machot in the future (especially the aliyah of you, our dear readers...)
I was privileged to spend Shabbat with the kehillah of Rabbi Kalman Topp, the former assistant rabbi at the Young Israel of Woodmere. It was great to see him and see how wonderfully he has embraced and been embraced by his new community. Everyone we met spoke glowingly of him as an orator, a rabbinic leader, and as a great choice for their community.
I was in California for Puah's scholar-in-residence weekend with the director of counseling (English-speaking) Rabbi Gideon Weitzman. Rabbi Weitzman gave several lectures over Shabbat and, as part of our expanding Continuing Medical Education certification, we were hosted by the shul (Beth Jacob of Beverly Hills) for a CME symposium as well, along with Dr. Snunit ben Ozer, a local fertility specialist.
This was also the first opportunity for us to celebrate our recent selection as a winner of the 2009 Jewish Choice Award from GreatNonProfits. This organization conducted a survey of various non-profit organizations over (I think) an eight-week period. Out of something like 4,000 submissions of recommendations for various organizations, Puah was ranked number 1 in the International Jewish Non Profit category, a terrific honor.
I had a hard time booking tickets for the trip, which also included a stop in Dallas. I had reserved a seat for Monday night's flight to Newark, planning on going to Dallas before Los Angeles and returning on the direct flight from L.A. to Tel Aviv. However, I couldn't confirm my schedule by the expiration of the reservation and let it lapse.
The next day, when I was ready to purchase a ticket, my travel agent couldn't find any seats on the original flight. He tried changing connection cities for Dallas or leaving a day earlier and could not find anything that worked. I couldn't figure out why the planes had so suddenly filled up until I realized that my flight was leaving the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Apparently, many last-minute travelers took seats on the Israel-U.S. flights and there was simply nothing available.
You would think that I, as a person who works in the U.S. on a regular basis, would be cognizant of the U.S. holidays and how they might affect my schedule. Yet I seem to have adjusted to the Israeli calendar and enjoy the lack of "American" stuff on my schedule (except for Sundays - I don't think I will ever adjust to Sunday being a full day of work).
No Turkeys or fat guys in red clothing in my neighborhood. No bunnies or phony holidays that are excuses to make big sales. (Side note: Chaim spent the entire night/morning of "Black Friday" running from store to store with some friends, looking for bargains). My little kids don't even know what Thanksgiving is, and have totally forgotten the winter decorations and other "holiday" celebrations we would trip over throughout November and December.
Having ignored the calendar, I was forced to reorganize my trip, but in true "it always happens for the best" fashion, I was able to shorten the trip by a day and get home to the family a little faster, a couple of days before Chanukah.
Chanukah is one of my favorite holidays. I especially enjoy taking a post-dinner stroll through the neighborhood to see the various chanukiyot, which are lit in special wind-resistant glass boxes outside homes in Israel. Seeing home after home of chanukiyot reminds me that we are living in the Jewish land. This year, my celebration will be doubly enhanced, with two Shabbatot Chanukah to enjoy.
As we did last year, we're heading to Eilat for a Chanukah mini-vacation. This year, we're part of a group of 27 families staying together and joining each other for various day trips and tiyulim as well. We even have an option to tour Petra (in Jordan), which I had originally signed up for but decided to cancel so that I could spend more time with the little kids. I am helping arrange tours of one of the major dairies, which is located just north of Eilat.
We hope that you and your family enjoy a terrific Chanukah and get to enjoy special family time together reveling in the celebration of the miracle of the recapture of the Beit HaMikdash - if only for a very short time. We hope and pray that we celebrate the rebuilding of the final Beit HaMikdash at the same time. If not, l'shanah haba'ah b'Yerushalayim habenuyah.
A special mazal tov to our dear friends Dr. David and Shira Wiseman on the birth of their son. Mazal tov also to our friends and neighbors Motti and Penina Eichler (formerly of Cedarhurst) and Dr. Herman and Mrs. Mia Weiss (formerly of West Hempstead) who are celebrating their daughters' bat mitzvahs in the coming week as well. May we all continue to share s'machot in the future (especially the aliyah of you, our dear readers...)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
More Firsts (11/18/2009)
New olim struggle to reconcile their expectations in life with reality. Each day brings a new realization that things in Israel are incredibly different from what they had grown accustomed to in their former home. As time passes, experience replaces expectation, and we grow more familiar and comfortable with our surroundings.
Understanding that this is a process enables us to cope with all the stress and confusion that reigns in the first few years of life in our new country. With the passage of time, we begin to feel as if we are "settled in" old-timers, with an understanding of how most things work and how to get things done. This is the process of absorption.
Each family has its own unique process of absorption, which is really just the sum of their experiences. As a result, one family may become expert in special-ed. issues, another in building and construction or purchase of a new home, and a third in the workings of the health-care system (I chose these examples because these are three different areas which many new olim will most likely have to deal with at some point and are vastly different from anything they had been used to in their former countries).
With all the challenges that we face in adjusting, there is a natural tendency to look to others for advice, in the hope that we can avoid some of the more difficult lessons. The Bet Shemesh e-mail list has hundreds of postings each day. A vast number of them are "How do I...?" questions, "Here is how to..." answers, or "Does anyone know anything about..." inquiries.
Eventually, after a couple of years, we have even learned some of the answers. So we know how to maneuver through the health-care system and what to expect from the teachers in school. We sometimes even offer advice to the "newbies" in town, sharing some of our experience with them. And we forget that in our fourth year of living here, we are also newbies.
This week, Chaya's school had a parents' (with student) meeting to discuss next year's national service (sherut leumi) and the process of application and acceptance for the various institutions. We knew this was coming and were excited to be starting this next stage together with Chaya. Sherut leumi would be yet another first for us.
We realized that we were no longer behind the curve for this meeting. After all, many of the other girls are the oldest in their families, and thus their parents had also not gone through the process as parents; everything would be new to them as well. And we realized that, now that we understand most of what is happening (in Hebrew) during these (incredibly long) meetings, we are pretty much adjusted and can participate fully in all activities.
Yet, the information was so overwhelming. Having never done any form of national service here, we had no idea how extensive the programs are and how varied the structure and supervision provided. Should she live at home, or with a bunch of strangers in an apartment? Should she be in a large program or a small program? What are her career interests? Does she want career-related experience, or a program that is rich in helping others as more of a one-time experience? There are so many things for her to consider.
There are even strategies designed to optimize one's chances of getting into the program of one's choice, or at least in a chosen field. There was so much information to grasp and assimilate, and it comes during a year of great transition and experience for the girls.
Three days after the meeting, Chaya went to Poland with about 35 other eleventh and twelfth-grade girls in her school for a week of discovery. Thousands of other students from Israel (and the rest of the world) will undertake similar journeys to learn about the thriving Jewish communities of Eastern Europe and their destruction in WWII. They had prepared for the trip for months, and we could clearly see the anticipation building for her.
The day of departure was full of excitement in our house. The night before, I had gone with Mordechai to an Israeli professional-league basketball game in Tel Aviv with four of his friends. He attends an after-school basketball program twice a week. The program is run under the auspices of the Maccabi Electra Tel Aviv team, so Mordechai is considered a youth member of the club and has a photo ID card from them.
Each year, the youth members are invited to come (along with an adult of their choice) to 12 or 13 select games and attend for free. Mordechai went to a game last year, but the timing never worked out for me to participate. This week, the schedule worked out and we took a whole crew to the Nokia Arena in Tel Aviv (another first for me).
We had a nice time. Having seen Michael Jordan play in Chicago Stadium and Patrick Ewing in Madison Square Garden, I can assure you that these teams did not come close to the talent level I expected for professionals, nor was the stadium anything to get excited about. Yet the atmosphere was exciting and the kids really enjoyed it. We sat just above a set of fans who apparently attend every game, come with a drum, and sing team songs throughout the game. (They stop only for halftime.)
Maccabi won, so the kids went home happy. I went home tired, having to chase five 8-year-old boys for three hours. That night, I was up till 1 a.m. making phone calls to the U.S. for work, and I had planned on sleeping through 7:15 and going to the office a little late that day.
But at 6:00 a.m., Aliza woke me to tell me that Chaya was on the phone at the airport, crying hysterically. The school staff had told her to bring only her Israeli travel papers and not her U.S. passport. Unfortunately, that was bad advice. The travel papers only allow exit and entrance from Israel, and are free for the first five years after aliyah. The theory is that immigrants will still have their passports from their country of origin. Amazingly, the system saves us money by not requiring us to get a passport until year six of aliyah.
In order to get into Poland, she needed her U.S. passport. So I quickly ran to the car and flew to the airport to get her the passport on time (39 minutes from phone call to delivery). She made her flight and is now somewhere in Poland. We will not be able to speak with her until she returns, but they were kind enough to give us the fax numbers of the hotels she will be in, and we are trying to fax her a daily letter. It will be interesting to see her reaction to the trip.
We are beginning to ramp up for the holidays here. No, we don't have turkeys, dried corn, elves, soldiers, or some big fat guy in a red suit displayed everywhere. We do have chanukiyot, chocolate coins, and sufganiot wherever we go. I guess it is a cultural thing, but I am reminded each year that we live in the land of the Jews and for the Jews.
Understanding that this is a process enables us to cope with all the stress and confusion that reigns in the first few years of life in our new country. With the passage of time, we begin to feel as if we are "settled in" old-timers, with an understanding of how most things work and how to get things done. This is the process of absorption.
Each family has its own unique process of absorption, which is really just the sum of their experiences. As a result, one family may become expert in special-ed. issues, another in building and construction or purchase of a new home, and a third in the workings of the health-care system (I chose these examples because these are three different areas which many new olim will most likely have to deal with at some point and are vastly different from anything they had been used to in their former countries).
With all the challenges that we face in adjusting, there is a natural tendency to look to others for advice, in the hope that we can avoid some of the more difficult lessons. The Bet Shemesh e-mail list has hundreds of postings each day. A vast number of them are "How do I...?" questions, "Here is how to..." answers, or "Does anyone know anything about..." inquiries.
Eventually, after a couple of years, we have even learned some of the answers. So we know how to maneuver through the health-care system and what to expect from the teachers in school. We sometimes even offer advice to the "newbies" in town, sharing some of our experience with them. And we forget that in our fourth year of living here, we are also newbies.
This week, Chaya's school had a parents' (with student) meeting to discuss next year's national service (sherut leumi) and the process of application and acceptance for the various institutions. We knew this was coming and were excited to be starting this next stage together with Chaya. Sherut leumi would be yet another first for us.
We realized that we were no longer behind the curve for this meeting. After all, many of the other girls are the oldest in their families, and thus their parents had also not gone through the process as parents; everything would be new to them as well. And we realized that, now that we understand most of what is happening (in Hebrew) during these (incredibly long) meetings, we are pretty much adjusted and can participate fully in all activities.
Yet, the information was so overwhelming. Having never done any form of national service here, we had no idea how extensive the programs are and how varied the structure and supervision provided. Should she live at home, or with a bunch of strangers in an apartment? Should she be in a large program or a small program? What are her career interests? Does she want career-related experience, or a program that is rich in helping others as more of a one-time experience? There are so many things for her to consider.
There are even strategies designed to optimize one's chances of getting into the program of one's choice, or at least in a chosen field. There was so much information to grasp and assimilate, and it comes during a year of great transition and experience for the girls.
Three days after the meeting, Chaya went to Poland with about 35 other eleventh and twelfth-grade girls in her school for a week of discovery. Thousands of other students from Israel (and the rest of the world) will undertake similar journeys to learn about the thriving Jewish communities of Eastern Europe and their destruction in WWII. They had prepared for the trip for months, and we could clearly see the anticipation building for her.
The day of departure was full of excitement in our house. The night before, I had gone with Mordechai to an Israeli professional-league basketball game in Tel Aviv with four of his friends. He attends an after-school basketball program twice a week. The program is run under the auspices of the Maccabi Electra Tel Aviv team, so Mordechai is considered a youth member of the club and has a photo ID card from them.
Each year, the youth members are invited to come (along with an adult of their choice) to 12 or 13 select games and attend for free. Mordechai went to a game last year, but the timing never worked out for me to participate. This week, the schedule worked out and we took a whole crew to the Nokia Arena in Tel Aviv (another first for me).
We had a nice time. Having seen Michael Jordan play in Chicago Stadium and Patrick Ewing in Madison Square Garden, I can assure you that these teams did not come close to the talent level I expected for professionals, nor was the stadium anything to get excited about. Yet the atmosphere was exciting and the kids really enjoyed it. We sat just above a set of fans who apparently attend every game, come with a drum, and sing team songs throughout the game. (They stop only for halftime.)
Maccabi won, so the kids went home happy. I went home tired, having to chase five 8-year-old boys for three hours. That night, I was up till 1 a.m. making phone calls to the U.S. for work, and I had planned on sleeping through 7:15 and going to the office a little late that day.
But at 6:00 a.m., Aliza woke me to tell me that Chaya was on the phone at the airport, crying hysterically. The school staff had told her to bring only her Israeli travel papers and not her U.S. passport. Unfortunately, that was bad advice. The travel papers only allow exit and entrance from Israel, and are free for the first five years after aliyah. The theory is that immigrants will still have their passports from their country of origin. Amazingly, the system saves us money by not requiring us to get a passport until year six of aliyah.
In order to get into Poland, she needed her U.S. passport. So I quickly ran to the car and flew to the airport to get her the passport on time (39 minutes from phone call to delivery). She made her flight and is now somewhere in Poland. We will not be able to speak with her until she returns, but they were kind enough to give us the fax numbers of the hotels she will be in, and we are trying to fax her a daily letter. It will be interesting to see her reaction to the trip.
We are beginning to ramp up for the holidays here. No, we don't have turkeys, dried corn, elves, soldiers, or some big fat guy in a red suit displayed everywhere. We do have chanukiyot, chocolate coins, and sufganiot wherever we go. I guess it is a cultural thing, but I am reminded each year that we live in the land of the Jews and for the Jews.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
We are all Israelis (11/11/2009)
Last motzaei Shabbat, Goldie and I were privileged to host the "Meet the New Members" melaveh malkah for our shul. As a new shul in the community, our growth has been astonishing. We have grown from an average of 15 to 20 bar-mitzvah-age men per week to somewhere near 65 on average, with many more on the chagim. With the summer's influx of new olim behind us, it was a perfect time to have a "get to know you better" event-the first one for our shul.
For Goldie and me, volunteering to host it was a no-brainer. Our house is being sold, and we know that the new owners will want us out by the end of next summer. We have, admittedly, a large house with an oversized backyard (which we are renting at excellent terms) and we have no idea where we will be next year. So we decided to take advantage of what we had while we still had it.
Of course, being scheduled for November 7, we had a bit of concern about the weather. Sadly, there was no rain and we were able to have the entire event in our backyard. Having reached the mid 80s on Shabbat afternoon, the temperature was still hovering in the low 70s by evening and was quite comfortable.
Since the first meeting to organize the shul, we have tried to make everything in the shul as Hebrew-friendly as possible. While there are weekday shiurim in the rabbi's home and one Shabbat afternoon shiur in English, almost everything we do is done either exclusively in Hebrew or in both languages. Announcements, flyers, e-mails, the drasha during davening - no matter how tough it is, we translate everything.
That effort has paid off. The shul was founded and is almost entirely run by a bunch of English-speaking olim who are all in Israel for less than five years, Yet, somewhere around 20 percent of those who regularly daven with us and consider themselves members of the shul are native to Israel (plus one incredible Ethiopian family). Hebrew is their mother tongue.
We have been extremely conscious of trying to include the natives in shul activities and events, but it is hard to run a meeting when some of the people don't understand what is going on either because they don't understand Hebrew or they don't understand English. We were hoping that the Israeli born would turn out for the event, but it wasn't a sure thing. We even made a special point of calling them to let them know that everything would be in Hebrew.
Thankfully, the turnout was incredible. Over 90 percent of the families who daven by us at least twice a month showed up - Hebrew speakers as well as English speakers. Almost 70 people enjoyed a couple of interactive games and just a couple of hours under the Bet Shemesh night sky, enjoying each other's company.
In leading up to the event, and in consideration of the fact that they knew Goldie was just arriving from a trip to the U.S. days earlier, our neighbors Avi and Tania Fraenkel, who also daven in our shul, invited us for Friday night dinner. This was a huge help.
The Fraenkels made aliyah from London, and the meal was really a great experience for us. Tania's cousin, James ,was a student at Eretz HaTzvi my first year there. We actually learned together on a weekly basis for a while. He is in Moscow for a semester, and I hope to resume learning with him when he gets back to the UK.
One of the great things about living in an Anglo community is our common language and comfort of dealing with each other. Still, we are occasionally reminded that the world is a pretty big place with different ways to do things.
Avi is a terrific guy. He davened for us on the Yamim Noraim this year and blew shofar last year. I find him to be incredibly straightforward and totally unpretentious (I was sure pretentiousness was an English characteristic - but he must have missed out on that one). Yet, he is incredibly English in his performance of ritual and the ceremony surrounding them.
Kiddush was an event. Zemirot were not just sung, they were intoned. The entire meal was approached with a certain dignity that we weren't used to. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously. Yet, I was struck by how differently we approach things based upon the culture into which we were born.
We have been trying to figure out what we are going to do for the Katz family's more permanent home in Israel. Obviously, the more settled in we get in Bet Shemesh, the harder it would be for us to make a move. So, in response to the question I get most often, "Where are you going to live?," I would guess that for now, we are leaning towards Bet Shemesh.
It has been pretty quiet of late. There has been a lot of political maneuvering regarding the construction of new neighborhoods and which segment of society will be invited to live in them. Yet, if we decide to move, and it is into the heart of the neighborhood, I think we will be much more insulated from the day to day issues we currently deal with. Our kids may choose to live elsewhere, but we will probably be ok for at least 10 years. How much longer than that can you plan?
Of course, things can always heat up at a moment's notice. I think that even you in the Five Towns have witnessed some of what we experience here last week with a special visit to your community. I have been quoted already on this issue (even though I didn't realize my comments were being made for publication) and I am sure Larry Gordon will have much to say. All I will add is that you had to deal with figuring out where you stood for a single Shabbos. We live this every day.
For Goldie and me, volunteering to host it was a no-brainer. Our house is being sold, and we know that the new owners will want us out by the end of next summer. We have, admittedly, a large house with an oversized backyard (which we are renting at excellent terms) and we have no idea where we will be next year. So we decided to take advantage of what we had while we still had it.
Of course, being scheduled for November 7, we had a bit of concern about the weather. Sadly, there was no rain and we were able to have the entire event in our backyard. Having reached the mid 80s on Shabbat afternoon, the temperature was still hovering in the low 70s by evening and was quite comfortable.
Since the first meeting to organize the shul, we have tried to make everything in the shul as Hebrew-friendly as possible. While there are weekday shiurim in the rabbi's home and one Shabbat afternoon shiur in English, almost everything we do is done either exclusively in Hebrew or in both languages. Announcements, flyers, e-mails, the drasha during davening - no matter how tough it is, we translate everything.
That effort has paid off. The shul was founded and is almost entirely run by a bunch of English-speaking olim who are all in Israel for less than five years, Yet, somewhere around 20 percent of those who regularly daven with us and consider themselves members of the shul are native to Israel (plus one incredible Ethiopian family). Hebrew is their mother tongue.
We have been extremely conscious of trying to include the natives in shul activities and events, but it is hard to run a meeting when some of the people don't understand what is going on either because they don't understand Hebrew or they don't understand English. We were hoping that the Israeli born would turn out for the event, but it wasn't a sure thing. We even made a special point of calling them to let them know that everything would be in Hebrew.
Thankfully, the turnout was incredible. Over 90 percent of the families who daven by us at least twice a month showed up - Hebrew speakers as well as English speakers. Almost 70 people enjoyed a couple of interactive games and just a couple of hours under the Bet Shemesh night sky, enjoying each other's company.
In leading up to the event, and in consideration of the fact that they knew Goldie was just arriving from a trip to the U.S. days earlier, our neighbors Avi and Tania Fraenkel, who also daven in our shul, invited us for Friday night dinner. This was a huge help.
The Fraenkels made aliyah from London, and the meal was really a great experience for us. Tania's cousin, James ,was a student at Eretz HaTzvi my first year there. We actually learned together on a weekly basis for a while. He is in Moscow for a semester, and I hope to resume learning with him when he gets back to the UK.
One of the great things about living in an Anglo community is our common language and comfort of dealing with each other. Still, we are occasionally reminded that the world is a pretty big place with different ways to do things.
Avi is a terrific guy. He davened for us on the Yamim Noraim this year and blew shofar last year. I find him to be incredibly straightforward and totally unpretentious (I was sure pretentiousness was an English characteristic - but he must have missed out on that one). Yet, he is incredibly English in his performance of ritual and the ceremony surrounding them.
Kiddush was an event. Zemirot were not just sung, they were intoned. The entire meal was approached with a certain dignity that we weren't used to. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously. Yet, I was struck by how differently we approach things based upon the culture into which we were born.
We have been trying to figure out what we are going to do for the Katz family's more permanent home in Israel. Obviously, the more settled in we get in Bet Shemesh, the harder it would be for us to make a move. So, in response to the question I get most often, "Where are you going to live?," I would guess that for now, we are leaning towards Bet Shemesh.
It has been pretty quiet of late. There has been a lot of political maneuvering regarding the construction of new neighborhoods and which segment of society will be invited to live in them. Yet, if we decide to move, and it is into the heart of the neighborhood, I think we will be much more insulated from the day to day issues we currently deal with. Our kids may choose to live elsewhere, but we will probably be ok for at least 10 years. How much longer than that can you plan?
Of course, things can always heat up at a moment's notice. I think that even you in the Five Towns have witnessed some of what we experience here last week with a special visit to your community. I have been quoted already on this issue (even though I didn't realize my comments were being made for publication) and I am sure Larry Gordon will have much to say. All I will add is that you had to deal with figuring out where you stood for a single Shabbos. We live this every day.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Eema Come Home (11/4/2009)
Before I say anything else: It rained! I don't mean for a few minutes or even half an hour. This was a real soaking rain that lasted for a couple of days and hopefully is only the start of things to come. We hit the low level of the year in the Kinneret, and now we need to have an outstanding rain season to get things back on track (we probably need two or three of them in a row).
As I wrote before the chagim, my new travel schedule will definitely take some adjusting to. I feel as if I am on an endless treadmill of running from trip to trip, and I am still not where I need to be in redefining my work schedule and routine to maximize productivity. I can foresee a time when I am much closer to my goal than I am today, which is encouraging; I am nowhere near there yet.
I haven't really had a chance to share our Sukkot experiences. Unbelievably (at least to me), I have been so busy moving from thing to thing that three weeks ago seems like three months ago, and I can't even remember what we did. We went jeeping (again), on a terrific hike with our shul, to a spectacular sound-and-light show at the David's Citadel Museum, and to the Latrun Tank Base. Yet, it is really a blur to me.
On the day before my trip, I was in a pretty serious car accident. Thank G-d there were no injuries (except to the cars). It was a scary moment, and I am still amazed that no one was hurt. The car was in the repair shop for two weeks, and I have to salute Goldie for dealing with it while I was in the USA so that the car was ready when I got back.
Right before I left, I wrote that the mayor of Bet Shemesh would be making a personal visit to the Five Towns. Although I was in Boston that evening and could not be there, I was wondering what those people who participated in the meeting thought about his visit. Please drop me a line.
As I mentioned, I was in the USA for almost two weeks. Against my previously stated policy, I spent two Shabbatot away from home. This was a planned deviation that allowed me to participate in our niece Tova Kreinberg's wedding to Yitzy Klapper. After ten days of a work trip, Goldie, Chaya, and Moshe flew in on Friday and we had the chance to spend a nice Shabbat together and visit with family.
We had a terrific time at the wedding. From the first day that we talked about making aliyah, the biggest drawback of the decision was missing family events. We've missed bar and bat mitzvah celebrations and a couple of weddings. It is tough to know that we voluntarily chose to exclude ourselves from these events. So it is very special and meaningful to us when we can be there for a simcha. And the simcha was awesome-very lebbidik and just a tremendous night.
The day after the wedding, I headed back home. This would be a milestone trip for me. In July, we had been contacted by a couple who were making aliyah and had been undergoing IVF treatments in New York. They wanted to know if we could serve as couriers for them once they opened a file in Israel with their HMO and hospital. Machon Puah provides such services on a regular basis, and I was asked to bring six embryos with me back to Israel.
As a person in fundraising and public relations, I rarely get to play an active role in helping couples. I generally meet the couples after they have finished being serviced by Puah. While it is exciting and inspiring to hear their stories and how incredibly they have been impacted by the Puah rabbis, I am a step removed from the process. So I was looking forward to doing something tangible in helping things happen for a burgeoning family.
The security people at the airport were superb. Even though they had been notified that I was coming in advance, they were very diligent in questioning me and verifying my papers. El Al staffers took me to the TSA checkpoint, where they too were waiting for me (having also been notified in advance). The TSA people seemed to have a clear protocol for how to process me, and they did everything by the book, which I appreciated. Once through that checkpoint, I was cleared to wander the terminal before boarding.
If you ever want to get a bunch of really funny looks in the airport, try walking through it with a frozen storage tank for human embryos. The tank is solid steel, about two feet tall, and most closely resembles the back half of a torpedo. I had it strapped to my wheeled carry-on, and I am sure that people must have thought it was some kind of bomb.
The flight crew of El Al was also terrific. As soon as I walked on the plane, they exclaimed, "The embryo guy is here!" They showed me an area for storing the tank and made sure it was protected from being jarred during the flight. They seemed as excited as I was to be a part of helping this couple. As I was exiting the plane, they had the tank waiting for me at the door.
My luggage arrived after less than 10 minutes of waiting. I assume this was in the merit of the mitzvah I was involved with, because I have never had such a quick exit from the terminal. As I waited to meet the couple, I felt my anticipation building. I had not done Birchat Kohanim in two weeks, and as I stood there I thought about the bracha and how it is used for birchat ha'banim, and that the kohein's bracha is infused with a blessing of fertility and health as a major part.
I took a look at the tank and realized that in my hands I was holding the potential family of a couple. I know it sounds corny, but I closed my eyes and said the words of Birchat Kohanim upon the tank in a personal prayer for the successful birth of these potential people. The entire process (especially meeting the couple) is something I will never forget, and it reminded me how important our work is.
As much as I loved that we were together with Goldie's family for the simcha, not having her home for an extra week was a killer. By the time she comes home (the day after this was written), we will have seen each other for 4 days out of 21. I have friends who have those kinds of trips, and I do not envy them.
Goldie is incredibly organized. She had a list of everything I needed to do, step by step. And the list was perfect. Nothing missing, everything taken care of. We just don't run well as a family when she isn't around. The kids' lives so revolve around her being here that it was just weird for them and hard to adjust to, no matter how much they love me.
If there is one thing I learned on my most recent trip to America, it is that people are still reading this column. Wherever we went, we heard, "I would ask how you are doing-but I already know!"
We were asked about our house-buying plans (we still aren't sure what we are going to do and if we are staying in Bet Shemesh), my ratcheted-up travel schedule (yes, it does look like ten trips each year), and a whole host of other questions about things we have experienced these past three-plus years. Living 6,000 miles away from the readers of this column, it is difficult to know if anyone out there is still reading. Thanks for making us a part of your lives.
In the "another simcha I missed by making aliyah" department, mazal tov to Mark and Barbara Silber and their extended families on Jonathan's bar mitzvah last week. As someone that I spoke to nearly every day in the USA, Mark is one of those friends who I think I will always miss.
Finally, I want to wish a special mazal tov to Goldie's brother David and his wife Marcia (who have done so much for our family in more ways than I can list) on Tova and Yitzy's wedding, as well as to my in-laws and family and the entire Leff family. Many of you may know that Marcia's mother, Judi Leff, a'h, left this world only days after she attended the wedding. I consider myself lucky to have been able to wish her a mazal tov in person. I knew Judi my entire adult life. She was a wonderful person and an exemplary mother and grandmother who will be sorely missed.
As I wrote before the chagim, my new travel schedule will definitely take some adjusting to. I feel as if I am on an endless treadmill of running from trip to trip, and I am still not where I need to be in redefining my work schedule and routine to maximize productivity. I can foresee a time when I am much closer to my goal than I am today, which is encouraging; I am nowhere near there yet.
I haven't really had a chance to share our Sukkot experiences. Unbelievably (at least to me), I have been so busy moving from thing to thing that three weeks ago seems like three months ago, and I can't even remember what we did. We went jeeping (again), on a terrific hike with our shul, to a spectacular sound-and-light show at the David's Citadel Museum, and to the Latrun Tank Base. Yet, it is really a blur to me.
On the day before my trip, I was in a pretty serious car accident. Thank G-d there were no injuries (except to the cars). It was a scary moment, and I am still amazed that no one was hurt. The car was in the repair shop for two weeks, and I have to salute Goldie for dealing with it while I was in the USA so that the car was ready when I got back.
Right before I left, I wrote that the mayor of Bet Shemesh would be making a personal visit to the Five Towns. Although I was in Boston that evening and could not be there, I was wondering what those people who participated in the meeting thought about his visit. Please drop me a line.
As I mentioned, I was in the USA for almost two weeks. Against my previously stated policy, I spent two Shabbatot away from home. This was a planned deviation that allowed me to participate in our niece Tova Kreinberg's wedding to Yitzy Klapper. After ten days of a work trip, Goldie, Chaya, and Moshe flew in on Friday and we had the chance to spend a nice Shabbat together and visit with family.
We had a terrific time at the wedding. From the first day that we talked about making aliyah, the biggest drawback of the decision was missing family events. We've missed bar and bat mitzvah celebrations and a couple of weddings. It is tough to know that we voluntarily chose to exclude ourselves from these events. So it is very special and meaningful to us when we can be there for a simcha. And the simcha was awesome-very lebbidik and just a tremendous night.
The day after the wedding, I headed back home. This would be a milestone trip for me. In July, we had been contacted by a couple who were making aliyah and had been undergoing IVF treatments in New York. They wanted to know if we could serve as couriers for them once they opened a file in Israel with their HMO and hospital. Machon Puah provides such services on a regular basis, and I was asked to bring six embryos with me back to Israel.
As a person in fundraising and public relations, I rarely get to play an active role in helping couples. I generally meet the couples after they have finished being serviced by Puah. While it is exciting and inspiring to hear their stories and how incredibly they have been impacted by the Puah rabbis, I am a step removed from the process. So I was looking forward to doing something tangible in helping things happen for a burgeoning family.
The security people at the airport were superb. Even though they had been notified that I was coming in advance, they were very diligent in questioning me and verifying my papers. El Al staffers took me to the TSA checkpoint, where they too were waiting for me (having also been notified in advance). The TSA people seemed to have a clear protocol for how to process me, and they did everything by the book, which I appreciated. Once through that checkpoint, I was cleared to wander the terminal before boarding.
If you ever want to get a bunch of really funny looks in the airport, try walking through it with a frozen storage tank for human embryos. The tank is solid steel, about two feet tall, and most closely resembles the back half of a torpedo. I had it strapped to my wheeled carry-on, and I am sure that people must have thought it was some kind of bomb.
The flight crew of El Al was also terrific. As soon as I walked on the plane, they exclaimed, "The embryo guy is here!" They showed me an area for storing the tank and made sure it was protected from being jarred during the flight. They seemed as excited as I was to be a part of helping this couple. As I was exiting the plane, they had the tank waiting for me at the door.
My luggage arrived after less than 10 minutes of waiting. I assume this was in the merit of the mitzvah I was involved with, because I have never had such a quick exit from the terminal. As I waited to meet the couple, I felt my anticipation building. I had not done Birchat Kohanim in two weeks, and as I stood there I thought about the bracha and how it is used for birchat ha'banim, and that the kohein's bracha is infused with a blessing of fertility and health as a major part.
I took a look at the tank and realized that in my hands I was holding the potential family of a couple. I know it sounds corny, but I closed my eyes and said the words of Birchat Kohanim upon the tank in a personal prayer for the successful birth of these potential people. The entire process (especially meeting the couple) is something I will never forget, and it reminded me how important our work is.
As much as I loved that we were together with Goldie's family for the simcha, not having her home for an extra week was a killer. By the time she comes home (the day after this was written), we will have seen each other for 4 days out of 21. I have friends who have those kinds of trips, and I do not envy them.
Goldie is incredibly organized. She had a list of everything I needed to do, step by step. And the list was perfect. Nothing missing, everything taken care of. We just don't run well as a family when she isn't around. The kids' lives so revolve around her being here that it was just weird for them and hard to adjust to, no matter how much they love me.
If there is one thing I learned on my most recent trip to America, it is that people are still reading this column. Wherever we went, we heard, "I would ask how you are doing-but I already know!"
We were asked about our house-buying plans (we still aren't sure what we are going to do and if we are staying in Bet Shemesh), my ratcheted-up travel schedule (yes, it does look like ten trips each year), and a whole host of other questions about things we have experienced these past three-plus years. Living 6,000 miles away from the readers of this column, it is difficult to know if anyone out there is still reading. Thanks for making us a part of your lives.
In the "another simcha I missed by making aliyah" department, mazal tov to Mark and Barbara Silber and their extended families on Jonathan's bar mitzvah last week. As someone that I spoke to nearly every day in the USA, Mark is one of those friends who I think I will always miss.
Finally, I want to wish a special mazal tov to Goldie's brother David and his wife Marcia (who have done so much for our family in more ways than I can list) on Tova and Yitzy's wedding, as well as to my in-laws and family and the entire Leff family. Many of you may know that Marcia's mother, Judi Leff, a'h, left this world only days after she attended the wedding. I consider myself lucky to have been able to wish her a mazal tov in person. I knew Judi my entire adult life. She was a wonderful person and an exemplary mother and grandmother who will be sorely missed.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Meet the Mayor (10/14/2009)
I had outlined a great article for this week. Chol ha'moed in Israel is always a treat, especially when the yomim tovim both land on Shabbat so we get a full week of chol ha'moed. Between concerts and the perennial ATV trip, we always have things to do and fascinating places to go.
However, I am also busily adjusting to a new travel schedule. My position at Machon Puah will require much more travel than I have been used to (no fewer than ten trips a year, versus three or four). In the past, I had been able to prepare for each trip as its own unit and schedule my time in the weeks leading up to the trip. This year, with trips scheduled to the USA in October, November, December, and January-as well as an anticipated trip to England sometime in November-December-I need to start thinking two and three trips ahead in order to make sure I maximize my efforts. And I have not been doing that.
So I will instead share an invitation with you-an invitation to meet some of the players in Bet Shemesh and find out for yourself what their vision is for the future of Bet Shemesh.
As some of you might already know, the mayor of Bet Shemesh, Moshe Abutbul, will be visiting the Five Towns on Tuesday evening as part of an international tour he is conducting to generate interest in the growth and development of Bet Shemesh. Shalom Lerner (the guy I voted for in the mayoral elections) will be on the trip as a member of the city council coalition. Part of their focus on this tour is generating further interest in Bet Shemesh as a destination for olim and investment.
As you know, Goldie and I have been debating our personal long-term plans for the past several months. Without a permanent solution for housing, we have been weighing the pros and cons of staying in Bet Shemesh versus leaving. It is a very difficult consideration. After all, we have planted roots with our neighbors and with our shul. Our children are extremely happy here and have terrific friends that they aren't excited about leaving behind. Perhaps most importantly, the community was incredibly supportive in a tangible way when Goldie was ill, similar to the tremendous emotional and spiritual support we got from our friends in the Five Towns.
We know the system here (at least enough to get around in it). We have a routine and quality of life that is terrific and provides us with great satisfaction. So leaving would be tough. Yet, as you know, I have grave concerns over the future of Bet Shemesh and the demographic shift that is being proposed by the current mayor and the Ministry of Building and Housing. I am also frustrated by the lack of achdut in the city and the friction that exists (thankfully for now it is not being expressed) between the various communities.
I believe that the future of Bet Shemesh could be bright . . . or perhaps not. And a lot of that future is tied to the people who will be coming to meet you this week. So please take a minute to stop by and meet the city officials who are there and ask them serious questions about the future of our city. It could continue to be a great destination for olim-but our voices need to be heard.
When the mayor invites you to consider investing in infrastructure, make sure he knows that it needs to be invested for all demographic groups, not just his own. When he talks about the diversity of the city, ask him why he supports vast expansion in the city for only one of the demographic groups instead of continued proportional growth designed to maintain the demographic balance that currently exists. Ask him what the plans are for continued investment in new neighborhoods for the religious Zionist and the non-religious citizens of the city. And pay attention to his answers.
We need you in Bet Shemesh; there is no question of that. Yet we have a responsibility of providing you with a place that you (and I) can continue to feel comfortable living in and be proud of. Make sure that the people making the decisions for my future (as well as all of your friends-those who live here and those of you who have not yet made the step up) know that the partnership they seek is not one-sided.
You can be part of the solution for all the residents of Bet Shemesh and help us continue to be a beacon for Anglos and native Israelis alike who share similar values and desires to be a part of the Jewish National dream. The first step of the process happens Tuesday. Take it.
However, I am also busily adjusting to a new travel schedule. My position at Machon Puah will require much more travel than I have been used to (no fewer than ten trips a year, versus three or four). In the past, I had been able to prepare for each trip as its own unit and schedule my time in the weeks leading up to the trip. This year, with trips scheduled to the USA in October, November, December, and January-as well as an anticipated trip to England sometime in November-December-I need to start thinking two and three trips ahead in order to make sure I maximize my efforts. And I have not been doing that.
So I will instead share an invitation with you-an invitation to meet some of the players in Bet Shemesh and find out for yourself what their vision is for the future of Bet Shemesh.
As some of you might already know, the mayor of Bet Shemesh, Moshe Abutbul, will be visiting the Five Towns on Tuesday evening as part of an international tour he is conducting to generate interest in the growth and development of Bet Shemesh. Shalom Lerner (the guy I voted for in the mayoral elections) will be on the trip as a member of the city council coalition. Part of their focus on this tour is generating further interest in Bet Shemesh as a destination for olim and investment.
As you know, Goldie and I have been debating our personal long-term plans for the past several months. Without a permanent solution for housing, we have been weighing the pros and cons of staying in Bet Shemesh versus leaving. It is a very difficult consideration. After all, we have planted roots with our neighbors and with our shul. Our children are extremely happy here and have terrific friends that they aren't excited about leaving behind. Perhaps most importantly, the community was incredibly supportive in a tangible way when Goldie was ill, similar to the tremendous emotional and spiritual support we got from our friends in the Five Towns.
We know the system here (at least enough to get around in it). We have a routine and quality of life that is terrific and provides us with great satisfaction. So leaving would be tough. Yet, as you know, I have grave concerns over the future of Bet Shemesh and the demographic shift that is being proposed by the current mayor and the Ministry of Building and Housing. I am also frustrated by the lack of achdut in the city and the friction that exists (thankfully for now it is not being expressed) between the various communities.
I believe that the future of Bet Shemesh could be bright . . . or perhaps not. And a lot of that future is tied to the people who will be coming to meet you this week. So please take a minute to stop by and meet the city officials who are there and ask them serious questions about the future of our city. It could continue to be a great destination for olim-but our voices need to be heard.
When the mayor invites you to consider investing in infrastructure, make sure he knows that it needs to be invested for all demographic groups, not just his own. When he talks about the diversity of the city, ask him why he supports vast expansion in the city for only one of the demographic groups instead of continued proportional growth designed to maintain the demographic balance that currently exists. Ask him what the plans are for continued investment in new neighborhoods for the religious Zionist and the non-religious citizens of the city. And pay attention to his answers.
We need you in Bet Shemesh; there is no question of that. Yet we have a responsibility of providing you with a place that you (and I) can continue to feel comfortable living in and be proud of. Make sure that the people making the decisions for my future (as well as all of your friends-those who live here and those of you who have not yet made the step up) know that the partnership they seek is not one-sided.
You can be part of the solution for all the residents of Bet Shemesh and help us continue to be a beacon for Anglos and native Israelis alike who share similar values and desires to be a part of the Jewish National dream. The first step of the process happens Tuesday. Take it.
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