A Land of Our Own

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day and the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. One of the two days in the year (the other being Yom HaShoah) where the world has the opportunity to reflect on the horrors of the Holocaust. I think, for Jews, that opportunity comes up a lot more often. For someone like me, who has a mild to moderate obsession with the history of the Holocaust, I reflect quite regularly.

I spent last week in Europe, mostly traveling alone. I went to Lisbon, Frankfurt and London on my yearly "mental health break" where I see the world and just breathe a bit (if you can swing it, I highly recommend it.) And in between scavenging for kosher food, seeing the sights, sailing on those ubiquitous European rivers and shopping ("Zaras across Europe!") I did what I always do. I designed my usual "Jordana's Jewish tour" of whatever city I traveled. 

In Lisbon, I saw a tiny community, a Chabad that is currently closed until March, no real kosher to speak of (Gd bless their one outpost) and a generally empty synagogue. Portugal has a storied (read: horrible) history with regards to their Jewish citizens. In deference to Spain, Portugal expelled, killed or forcibly converted all their Jews in the 1500's. Jews weren't allowed back into the country for hundreds of years. Today, the Lisbon Jewish community is around 300 and the Porto community ("much bigger!" exclaims my tour guide) hovers around 400. There is also a belief that due to the widespread phenomenon of hidden or crypto-Jews, as much as 35% of the Portuguese have Jewish blood. That's great. Didn't stop me from having to send my passport in advance to be able to be let into the bulletproof gate surrounding the synagogue that, when built, wasn't allowed to face the street. Because Christianity. Moving on to Frankfurt.

Beautiful shul for a tiny community

I'm sure it's unsurprising that I may have felt some trepidation as a Jew in Frankfurt. In this particular instance, I came for one full day and stayed with a close friend who observes kosher. Which was wonderful. While my hostess took care of errands, I went to the open Jewish museum (the main one is undergoing renovation) which focused on the Judengasse- essentially the Jewish street right down the middle of the Jewish ghetto-home to all of Frankfurt's Jews for hundreds of years. And, of course, the museum was guarded by two burly, heavily armed soldiers right out front. Because, Europe.

Can you tell I was nervous to photograph the guards?

The museum is free and beautifully done and maintained. I saw relics of a time and a place long-gone. I also read stories of regular pogroms, and regular blood libels and absurdly high taxes, and forced money-lending jobs, and displacement, and otherness and Jews essentially being at the mercy of whomever the king or kaiser happened to be at the time. And this, my friends, was one hundred years before Hitler.

Thanks Germany!

Then I went to London and well, I love London. I've seen so much of it so when my host suggested I spend the morning of my last day at the permanent Holocaust exhibit at the Imperial War Museum, I jumped at the chance (it's like she was in my brain!) And as I walked through the impeccably done exhibit, I wasn't focusing as much on the stories and displays as I was on my fellow visitors. I was watching them read and ingest so much of what I already knew and have seen (I've been to Yad Vashem alone well over 25 times.) I hoped they made the connection between anti-Semitism before the war and some of what they heard about in the news today and hoped they'd try to be part of the solution.

A lot of what I thought about was those who try to deny Jews the right to their homeland, specifically anti-Zionist Jews. I had to wonder- have they been to a Holocaust museum? A European synagogue with soldiers armed to the teeth posted outside? A memorial to a ghetto where Jews were made to be outsiders, endlessly wandering with nowhere to call home? Have these people ever really understood the rootlessness, the all-consuming fear that must come from having nowhere to go? Or have they lived their whole lives in the warm embrace of an America or a Canada where they're just as accepted and just as integrated as anyone else in their neighborhood?

I'm grateful to the United States for providing Jews with a safe place to settle after thousands of years of crusades and pogroms and expulsions and Holocausts. But I never take the miracle of Israel for granted and I always feel the luckiest to live here, on my own terms. I wasn't forced to make aliyah (quite the opposite!) and maybe it just takes a quick trip to Europe or a special day like Holocaust Remembrance Day for me to realize that "Never Again" is only a reality because Jews will never be homeless again. 

In unending appreciation to the blessed US soldiers who liberated the hell that was Auschwitz, the saintly righteous among the nations, who risked their lives for other human beings, and the State of Israel, for providing a safe haven for all Jews from all places, whether they choose to live here or not. May G-d watch over you and keep you safe.

Five Years On

About two weeks ago was my 5th anniversary of Aliyah- or Aliyaversary as the Olim call it, proving we can’t have nice things. Whatever you call it, five full years have passed since I began this grand adventure of living in Israel. And let me tell you, it’s been an adventure! I have experienced the highest of highs and definitely the lowest lows of my life here. I have started and left jobs, met new friends, deepened relationships and let some go. I have moved house and city. I have (slightly) improved my Hebrew and (definitely) improved my Israeli knowledge. I have watched too many of the cohort I arrived with “go back home” wondering how, how, how they didn’t consider Israel their true home!

So if I may take this wealth of information I have gleaned after living here a half-decade and share some do’s and don’ts for making Aliyah. Because it’s true- it’s the hardest thing you will ever do, but also the best.

5 Years of Living the Dream

Do- make a plan

Depending on your age, the plan will differ. But if you’re younger or unmarried and unclear where you plan to live “forever,” give yourself a soft landing- an Ulpan, an unaudited college course, a coffee shop part- time job. Something that allows you to start out slowly and get your bearings here, while you still have money coming to you from your Aliyah. 

Don’t- make Aliyah while on vacation, Birthright, for a guy/gal you really like

I hate telling anyone not to move here but Israel is definitely a magical place, especially for visiting Jews. Don’t get swept up and try to extend the best vacation ever or “see what happens” with the hot soldier from your Birthright. I’ll tell you what happens. 99/100 times, it ends with you on the plane crying about how Tal ghosted you. 

Do- grow a pair

Please excuse my crudeness! I could have said “toughen up” but the sentiment remains. Israel is tough and Israelis are tough. Does that mean it’s not for you? No. Does that mean you have to be “rude”? Also no. It means that when you move to Israel, a little assertiveness may just save your life. There’s nothing rude about not letting people cut you in line and there’s nothing rude about telling your waiter you haven’t gotten food in 30 minutes. There’s nothing rude about asking for a lower price in the shuk and there’s nothing rude about wanting the girl on the bus to wear headphones instead of blasting music on her phone. Standing up for yourself may feel difficult for someone say, from Vancouver (kidding!) but it will make life here exponentially easier.

Don’t- have FOMO

Living so far away from your native country, you will be bound to miss a lot of things. I think we don't realize how many things we have until we're missing them. And while you may be able to fly in for the odd wedding and 90th birthday party (or if you're British, something even less major like an anniversary or a Pidyon haBen- seriously, Brits head back to England a lot) you will be missing engagements and births, graduations and Bat Mitzvahs. Not to mention Labor Days, Chanukas and Thanksgivings! Oh, how I miss my Thanksgivings! That said, you will also be front and center for the important events- those that take place in Israel! Your friends and family will hopefully decide that there is no better place to celebrate a big moment than in the Homeland, and you'll be one of the only people who will get to witness the blessed event! Plus, you'll be making new friends and all of their smachot will be here! Problem solved.

And with the advent of Facetime and Skype and even Instagram video, you can feel like your there while in your bed in pajamas. It's kind of even better! Plus, with social media being what it is, aren't we all in a perpetual state of FOMO anyway?

Do- calibrate expectations

Spoiler alert- people in America (Canada, England, Australia, France) make more money. For the same jobs. And often less hours. This is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fact. Sure, I’ve heard there are rich Israelis, haven’t met too many personally though so introduce me! But by and large, we make less, our houses are smaller, we have fewer cars and the stuff we want generally costs the same. So what do we do? We adapt! I was a total shopaholic in NYC. Now, I buy less and I’ve survived. We budget. We buy what’s most important. And some things are cheaper now, too. Travel to Europe- could I ever afford that living in the States? Buying produce at the shuk. And how much have I saved taking the bus?

You adapt to having less here and realize that your life can still be as fun, comfortable and rich (see what I did there?) even without all the tchotchkes of America (et al.)

Don’t- expect New York in the Middle East (Or Toronto, Sydney, London or Paris) 

Oh, your sushi is better in Brooklyn and your nail salon is better in Hendon? Tough toenails! We are in the Middle East people! And while it's not a Third World country (although some may lead you to believe that) we did have smoking breaks in the middle of movies like, 5 years ago. So while you may be used to the luxuries of life, some things you will have to do without. And if you ask enough people (although ask friends, not Secret Tel Aviv for better intel) you can find your new favorite sushi place, manicurist, and English-speaking dermatologist!

Do- learn Hebrew

Take this from someone who hasn't. Well, as any of my friends (and dates who force me to speak in Hebrew) will tell you, I speak Hebrew. Just not well. And just not willingly. Just not how I hoped I'd speak it. I didn't take Ulpan as seriously as I should, nearly all my friends are Anglo, I've lived in two English-heavy cities and I usually force my dates to converse in English (I'm worth it, it's fine.) But don't be me. L'lamed Ivrit. 

Don’t- just leave because it’s hard

I once heard a shiur (and I never remember anything from them, so this should be good) and the rabbi said that the opposite of pleasure isn't pain, it's comfort. And nowhere does this strike me more than in my Aliyah. I left what is the epitome of comfort in America- easy money, my entire family, friends from childhood, a car, a mall as big as a small city, and on and on. Comfortable, yep, but was it actual pleasure? I came to a place where a trip to the bank takes half your day and you fully want to throttle your bus driver, mailman and landlord over the course of one day. That said, the work that goes in to Aliyah, the effort and the blood, sweat and tears, only makes being here more pleasurable. It is always more enjoyable eating a delicious cake you baked than one you bought, wearing a sweater you knitted than one you got at Zara. There is no feeling of success greater than a quick and painless trip to Misrad Hapnim or finding your way from Tel Aviv to the Golan by yourself. You put effort into your businesses, your schoolwork, your relationships- things that matter can be hard, but the payoff is huge. That is Aliyah- a less comfortable life, maybe, but certainly a more pleasurable one.

And lastly...

Do- Understand that the future of the Jewish people is here

I get it. America has been very welcoming to Jews and there is probably no better place to be Jewish outside Israel than the tri-state area. All that said- what's happening in America, and Europe and South Africa, this "rise in anti-Semitism" is real and it's not new. And it won't be the first time and history is nothing if not cyclical. That doesn't mean you should make Aliyah because you're scared. It means you should make the idea of Aliyah, of living in the Jewish state, of starting or continuing your family here more of a reality and less of some nebulous nice idea that will never actually materialize. And if you really can't imagine doing it yourself, you should raise children in a way where Aliyah is a value and a goal. 

Aliyah and life in Israel is for every Jew, not just the crazy Zionists like me. You just have to plan well, come with a positive mindset and work really hard to make this the best life you can. 

And I hope you will, so that in 5, 10, however many years it takes, I can wish you a Mazal Tov on your own Aliyaversary!

A Jew’s Life

As usual, it takes something huge to actually motivate me to blog, and I had been moving in that direction for weeks before the events in Pittsburgh shoved me all the way there.

Let’s start with the basics: my brothers and sisters (or in the case of many of the victims, zaidys and bubbies) were murdered, in shul, for the crime of being Jewish. They were murdered like the 6 million. They were targeted like Jews were murdered in Russia, Spain, England and on and on for literally thousands of years.

They were murdered like the Jews in Paris and the Jews in Mumbai. They were murdered like the Jews in Munich and the Jews in Argentina. And for sure they were murdered like the Jews in Har Nof and Sderot and Tel Aviv. A Jew is a Jew to those who hate us, and if you want to spend your time quibbling about embassies and settlements and right and left, kindly show yourself the door, because I’m tired.

I believe in semantics, the words people use. When I go back to the USA to visit and people say “oh, you’re going home?” I say “no, I am home. I’m going to see my family.” And they roll their eyes and mumble something about my raging Zionism and we move on. Why do I say that? Because here is home. Here I am not “the other, the (((Jew)))” here I belong.

I lived in America my whole life and loved it. My house has an American flag, I scream-sing the National anthem at baseball games, aggressively follow Team USA during international competition and know American history like the back of my hand. My dream vacation destination as a child was colonial Williamsburg.

Why am I mentioning this (other than giving you a glimpse into a weird hyper-patriotic kid?) Because I don’t blame this tragedy on America whatsoever. It’s not Trump’s fault (sorry, but that’s just wishful thinking on the part of those who blame him for the sun coming up.) It’s not the alt-right, or Antifa or the Klan or the Nation of Islam (although they all really hate Jews, to be fair.) Because Jews are killed everywhere in the world at every point in history, and it would be pretty odd to blame those tragedies on the alt-right, even though the motive is always exactly the same.

A lot of well-meaning people ask “what can we do” to help eradicate anti-Semitism. Certainly ensuring it has no place in government or on campus or in the media is a great start, but there is no way to actually end anti-Semitism. It’s an irrational bigotry- we’re hated because were too religious and too secular, too wealthy and too much on welfare, too educated and too ignorant, too assimilated and too separate, too left-wing and too right-wing. We are whatever it is bigots hate in nation-form, and that’s pretty hard to eradicate- or at least it hasn’t been done in over 3,000 years.

Which brings me to my final point. The last acceptable anti-Semitism is also known as anti-Zionism (I’m lookin’ at you, Jews and non-Jews alike.) This tragedy happened in Pittsburgh to a conservative synagogue and you still hear people blaming the embassy move and Gaza. And if that makes you feel better, if it makes you feel safer and absolved of guilt, you enjoy that. But Israel wasn’t just not a factor in this tragedy, it is the only known defense the Jewish people have against a world gone mad. Most Jews know it, our enemies know it and jeez Louise, anti Zionist Jews, you better get to know it too!

It is the main difference between the Jews of 1933 and the Jews of 2018- a strong country with a strong government and a strong army. And you can call us a country of land-thieves with a hawkish government and a brutal army until the cows come home- but we are the main factor in this entire world ensuring “Never Again” is a reality.

So while I hope that the Jews of America are safe in the “goldene medina” for as long as they want to stay there (and that includes the people I love most in this entire world) we must always remember that we are one nation, with one heart and only one homeland to call our own. Come for a visit or come to stay, but come Home soon.

And to the families and friends of the victims of this tragedy,
"May God comfort you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem."

Goodbye to the City of Gold

I'm sitting here in my first Israeli apartment, surrounded by boxes and bags, waiting for my moving truck. This is the first time I've properly sat here all week. I've been collecting boxes, shlepping and folding, throwing (not enough) things out and taking full cars of stuff to the new place. And my apartment is doing this crazy magic trick where I move more and more things out and yet it never looks less full. 

About 1/10 of my never-ending box-stravaganza

I remember moving in here 3 years ago with around 5 big duffel bags. It is insane (and highly embarrassing) to realize how much I've accumulated these past years. But I had to turn this empty box into a home, and that I did.

I am moving to Tel Aviv today. I know it seems totally crazy, especially to you readers who don't know me or to those I haven't spoken to in a while. I have been the consummate Jerusalemite- heck, I even named my blog after my city! And I was certainly no fan of Tel Aviv in the past. But over the past years, that's changed. I know I don't blog as frequently as I did or should, but I'm a different Jordana than the one who made Aliyah. I'm still an observant Jew (that's a common question when people ask how I could possibly move to Tel Aviv.) I'm still a fervent, full- throated Zionist (and a right-winger, about to move to the city of the Left!) I'm still committed to staying in Israel for the long haul, with no plans to move back to the States (sorry, Mama.)

But this is where my road is taking me- a new city, new friends (keeping the old ones though, because I picked some good ones here in Jerusalem), a new job (pending!), a lovely new apartment with a new incredible roommate (after 3 years of living alone!) and oh yeah- the beach!

It's true- I do!

I leave behind the city I love most and the birthplace of a thousand stories. In my years visiting, Jerusalem was my anchor- it was where I landed and the place I knew best. I can get anywhere, find anything in this city. There is nowhere more diverse, beautiful, frustrating and real. I know that I will miss this city, its people and its stones every single day. I know that I will come back to visit, at first a lot, and then less. I know that when my Tel Avivi friends laugh about Jerusalem- its religiosity, its conflict, its otherness- I won't join in. I will be the defender of the Holy City in the White City- because if they only knew Jerusalem like I know Jerusalem, they'd fall in love too.

But it's time to go and start fresh now. It's time to feel the sand between my toes and sip cafe hafuch on Rothschild. It's time to stay out til 3 am and then hit up the huge kiddush in shul on Shabbat afternoon. It's time to hang out on rooftops and turn on the air conditioning! It's time for me to make the move. And find a new blog name too, huh?

Saying goodbye to the Cabana

If life is a book with many chapters, and I'm on to the next one. Keep reading to find out what's in store!

Xoxo,

Jordana (originally of) Jerusalem 

The 68 Reason I Miss Israel (Most)

Hello from NYC! I have been on my yearly pilgrimage to America since before Pesach, but honestly, it feel like forever! Not that I haven't been enjoying- it's been so lovely and full of incredible memories (more on that in a blog to come). But when I was planning my trip and people would ask when I was returning home to Israel, they would inevitably exclaim, "WHAT?! You're missing Yom Ha'atzmaut? How could YOU miss that here?" Emphasis on the "you", since I am a vocal and rabid Zionist who enjoys just a regular Tuesday in February in Israel. Imagine my sadness in realizing that my sister's sheva brachot wedding festivities would coincide with Israel's Independence Day! But, as one of my best friends put it, "Yom Ha'atzmaut comes every year, your sister only gets married once!" Good point, Donna. And so here I am, missing Israel terribly, feverishly checking Facebook to see how my Israeli contingent is enjoying, and counting the ways I miss my country- I chose 68 for Israel's birthday specifically, but I probably could have gone on a lot longer. Here they are, the 

At my sister's wedding, with my flag

68 Reasons I Miss Israel

1) I miss getting to Ben Gurion Airport, where customs will say "Welcome Home."

Welcome home from DBG

2) I miss getting onto the bus as it pulls away, the bus driver rushing me on with a smile, knowing he's made my day a little easier.
3) I miss searching for hidden lions all over Jerusalem, sometimes just chilling out on rooftops.
4) I miss all the kosher options. Sure, New York has lots of kosher- but is the entire food court on the mall kosher?! I didn't think so!
5) I miss going from the biggest city to the second biggest city (Jerusalem to Tel Aviv) in under an hour- can you imagine getting from NYC to LA in an hour bus ride?!
6) I miss the bus ride from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. It's long enough to snooze, browse Facebook and chat with a friend, but short enough that, before you know it, you're there!
7) I miss the weather. Today is beautiful in NYC, but I was in a coat for 2/3 of my visit- in MAY! Weather report in Israel? Sunny with a chance of gorgeous.
8) Speaking of weather change, I miss not having allergies. I forgot all about the intense suffering I had at the hands of New York pollen. Luckily, I haven't had one seasonal sniffle since my aliyah!
9) I miss my tiny studio apartment (which hasn't been robbed- I checked, thank G-d!) Just me and my 30
meters of personal space! And my shoes.
10) I miss being a round people who don't think making aliyah is insane. G-d bless my friends and their support for the Jewish state, but when I say I moved to Israel, half the time I get a look of utter shock. It's not that crazy, guys!
11) I miss Chabad and Breslov dance parties- in town, at the bus station, on top of their vans. I love seeing devotion to G-d set to an awesome techno beat, tzitzit flying everywhere!
12) I miss watching awesome street performers, like that Hasidic man who sings classic rock and the electric violinist lady who wails on some Josh Groban.

Street performers are the norm

13) I miss the street names, and the fact that I can live on a Sholom Aleichem instead of an Avenue U.
14) I miss how safe I feel in Israel. As I always tell people who worry, Israel is totally safe, with just a touch of terrorism! (Weirdly, this doesn't calm them...)
15) I miss using my Chofshi Chadshi (my monthly metro card.) Once I've paid it at the beginning of the month, I feel like I'm riding for free every time!
16) Speaking of the bus, and as much as I love driving, I miss the bus! I miss getting a ride back at the end of a long night, not having to worry about driving and ending up at my door- like magic!

Buses in Israel featuring the Shema prayer!

17) I miss the Mediterranean lifestyle! I miss seeing 5 Israeli men at a cafe at 2 PM on a Wednesday, not a care in the world! Do they work? Probably! But for now- Turkish coffee!
18) I miss hummus at every meal. You don't realize you are missing this Israeli staple until it's gone---and even worse, when it's there but it tastes bad!
19) I miss the little jingle that precedes the Israeli news on the radio.
20) I miss listening to the news, trying to understand the gist, and getting excited that half the words are names ("blah blah Barack Obama blah blah Benjamin Netanyahu blah blah California")
21) Speaking of politics- I miss our government! Dysfunctional as it may be, I can't wait to escape the Donald Trump/Hillary Clinton juggernaut that dominates the news here.
22) I miss hearing little kids speak Hebrew. In general, I love the sound of the language, but tiny people speaking it more fluently than I will ever in my life? Adorable!
23) I miss the artists' markets on Fridays. Even when you don't buy anything, it's beautiful to see such talent coming from me fellow Israelis.
24) I miss the Tel Aviv bus station- just kidding it's gross. But where else can you buy a coffee, get a tattoo, send money Western Union, pick up an outfit to go clubbing and catch a bus to Eilat- all in the same place?
25) I miss Goldstar. I'm so happy I love our national beer (sorry, I've never tried Maccabi) and I love that it's a delicious and economical choice!
26) I miss continuing my quest for best Israeli breakfast (pssst- it's Cafe Greg or Caffit so far)

(Israeli) breakfast is served!

27) I miss the desert. I don't spend that much time there, but every time I go there is such a peace in the silence. And G-d knows, I need to be silent sometimes.
28) I miss the North (of Israel). Like the desert, I don't spend enough time there, but every time I go- I'm dazzled by the green and the air and the natural beauty- I just love it.
29) I miss being a tour guide for visitors. Nothing better than a friend from NYC coming to visit and asking me what to do, where to go or what to eat. In my past life, I was a tour guide for sure. Now I'm just a frustrated tour guide. Who has eaten at every kosher restaurant in town.
30) I miss the indescribable feeling you get when beating the bureaucracy. Like when I figured out a bank issue or got my Israeli driver's license with only minimal agita. Priceless.
31) I miss Mizrachi music, my non-secret, non-guilty, guilty pleasure. Yalla Habibi!!
32) I miss having my Hebrew corrected (constantly and without remorse) every time I speak (or text.) In America, everyone thinks I'm fluent and back home, Israelis think I speak like a 3rd grader with a concussion.
33) I miss watching awkward dates of Hareidim in lobbies. I don't feel bad saying this, because for a long while, I had those dates myself. Hello from the other side!
34) I miss the arsim who always make me feel hot, even when I am looking definitely not.
35) I miss the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv rivalry and how I started off firmly Team Jerusalem and now I'm a bit less sure.
36) I miss Sarona Market in Tel Aviv. I went to Chelsea market here in NYC, which is almost exactly the same, but it's indoors! Total win for Sarona!

Sarona is a paradise

37)  I miss not having to hear about how expensive yeshiva tuition is. We get it, America, you pay a lot for your kids to not learn Hebrew very well. Move to Israel already!
38) I miss Israeli slang, now that I'm starting to understand it. Yes, I do "chaya b'seret/live in a movie" thanks for noticing!
39) I miss seeing tourists do double takes at the guy on the beach with the swim trunks and the rifle.
40) I miss rooting for my new favorite basketball team- Yalla Hapoel!

Love my team!

41) I miss discussing with tourists (especially non-Jewish European ones!) how different Israel is from how it's portrayed in the media.
42) I miss people being happy on rainy days. They know that the rain is a blessing, so they enjoy it. I still don't, but maybe one day!
43) I miss being wished a "Shabbat Shalom" or "Chag Sameach" by everyone- not just the religiously observant. And I miss saying it right back!
44) I miss the shuk on Fridays- I won't actually go there to shop, just to soak up the energy once in a while, when I become jaded about living in Jerusalem.
45) I miss watching the kids on Birthright fall in love with Israel. I often miss being the one who gets to show them Israel, but I miss seeing their faces as they come home for the first time.
46) I miss the shuk at night! Who would have ever thought Jerusalem would become a hub of nightlife? Certainy no one in Tel Aviv did! And yet here we are, with this awesome market that turns into the greatest place to spend a chill Tuesday (ar any) night, listening to music and gettinga drink with friends.

My man, Menachem Begin, spray painted at the shuk

47) I miss the quiet in the streets of Jerusalem on Shabbat. Though we're not all observant in the city, most people observe shabbat in some way, and the streets become very still and traffic is super slow, You don't get that in many places on a Saturday!
48) And I miss how the city comes alive on a Thursday night. As a country where the day off is Friday, not Sunday, Thursday night is our Saturday night (you follow?) Thursday night is the night to party, and I rarely stay in- although

I used to love to stay in Saturday nights in NYC. There's just too much going on in Israel on a Thursday night!
49) I miss roof parties! With awesome weather for over half the year and limited indoor space, roof parties are probably my favorite kind. Other than wine parties, Those are really my favorite.
50) I miss wine parties. Particularly on Wednesdays.
51) I miss the views from the bus heading into or out of Jerusalem. There is usually a noticeable quieting as everyone on the bus gazes out onto a truly breathtaking view out our windows

This view!

52) I miss starting renditions of Israel's national anthem, Hatikva, everywhere I go and having my friends roll their eyes before they join in too for the big finish.
53) I miss starting singalongs on public buses during festivals like Purim and Yom Ha'atzmaut, where the whole bus joins in a sings "David Melech Yisrael" at the top of their lungs.
54) I miss Cofix! I miss being able to get a beer, a sandwich, a soup or an iced coffee for just 5 shekel! In a country where we try to be frugal- it's the best!
55) I miss staring at the boys in Tel Aviv- some of the handsomest in the world. I actually think that's a fact I read in an article somewhere, but even if it's not, it's true. 
56) I miss "Chag Sameach" for whichever holiday it happens to be flashing on buses and in all store windows. I'm still new enough here that seeing "Chanuka Sameach" on the bus makes my whole day.

Happy Purim! Love, Jerusalem

57) I miss the festivals! I can't wait for the summer and my favorite, the Summer Wine Festival and the Arts Festival-Chutzot Hayotzer. But really, there's always some festival happening in Jerusalem at any time- anyone remember Japanese Culture Week?

Summer Wine Festival- best night of the year!

58) I miss seeing a mezuza on every door. It's still weird to head into a room here in the States and automatically kiss every doorway, and not have a little mezuza there to greet me.
59) I miss the attitude. I know that seems crazy, but being in NYC, where politeness is certainly not a virtue, I miss the kind of well-meaning aggressiveness Israelis have. Maybe it's because I'm from NYC, and not short on chutzpah, but I don't mind the rough Israeli style, I can handle it just fine.
60) I miss the diversity of Jews. I never realized it, but in my New York bubble, my Jewish friends are a bit...homogeneous. They are wonderful, beautiful and amazing- but we are all pretty much the same. Israel boasts Jews from every country, speaking every language, with every culture, living in one tiny space. It's pretty awesome.
61) I miss the bubble. I miss not knowing what movies are out, what songs are popular, and what are the must-see shows. There are probably Israelis who know all these things, but I don't! Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty up on pop-culture, but I do like the extra degree of separation that comes from living 6,000 miles away from the US.
62) I know this will sound a little crazy coming from me, but I miss the coexistnce. sometimes there are times of fear or mistrust, but generally, the different cultures of Israel get along just fine. In the malls, the supermarkets, on the light rail or at the bank- citizens of Israel generally get along just fine with one another, and it's a good thing.
63) I miss our soldiers. Some of my favorite people in Israel have served or currently serve in the IDF, so our army is made up of people I truly love-whether I know them personally or not. May G-d bless them and keep them safe.
64) I miss my friends who have become my family, especially my fellow olim. There is a bond that comes with moving to Israel alone. I may not celebrate the holidays with my mom and dad and sisters, but I have some incredible new friends in my life who help me miss them a little less around the holidays.
65) I miss how everyone here feels like your family, and how they may yell at you one miniute, but they will kiss and hug you and invite you for shabbat the next minute- just like your real family.
66) I miss wishing someone who has just made aliyah a "Mazal tov!" Who says that when someone moves to Canada or England? I also miss making people "Mazel tov on your Aliyah!" posters!

My family hasn't made aliyah (yet!) but I can dream, right?

67) I miss learning new things about Israel every day. Whether it's a new Hebrew expression, a new historical fact or a new place to get the best cafe hafuch, I can't wait to learn more!
68) I miss feeling like I'm home. I will always love America deeply, for it's freedom and because the people I love most live here. But I live in the homeland of the Jews, and that is the great gift.

   So HAPPY 68th BIRTHDAY, Israel! You are beautiful and you are brave, you are ancient and you are young, you are traditional and you are innovative. You are a home to us all- and we love you!

One Nation, One Heart

             I've been posting a lot of Jewish pride stuff lately. I've been trying to rally the troops and show my fellow Jews and Israel-supporters that all will be well, as long as we support one another. And while the feedback has been good, I know it's been a bit of a downer lately. So I am so excited to tell you about the weekend I just had. It was one of those weekends where happiness and Jewish pride and good weather and national unity oozed out of every minute! Two events in specific were so awesome and impactful, I wanted to shout them out.

             Friday was the Jerusalem Marathon (and half marathon, 10k and 5k.) To be fair, I was in Israel for last year's marathon as well, and fully slept through the whole thing- no shame. This year, I had a few friends running it and I felt invested since I worked on preparations for the SHALVA team; I decided to get my lazy tush up at 7 AM on a Friday (equivalent to a New York Sunday) and cheer the runners on. This is the part where I mention that, once upon a time, I ran a half marathon, and have no interest in revisiting that physically excruciating time just yet.

My half-marathon 2 years ago (7th time posting)

             Back to my athletically inclined friends! I had a few running the Half, so my friend Ahuva informed me that she would be passing Azza Street in about 20 minutes. Can we just say that considering the glacial pace I made it to Azza from my apartment, it was an excellent choice not to run myself. I get to the location, coffee in hand in a Starbucks mug (relevance of this fact to follow) and parked myself next to an Israeli lady, and American yeshiva boy and 4 disgruntled policemen (relevance of this fact to follow, as well.) I was situated at the bottom of one hill, close to another decline and not far from the end of the race. I felt it was my duty to get the runners to the end with a smile on their faces! As runners of all ages and types came down the hill, I "whooooo!"ed and "Go,go,go!"ed til I was hoarse. Some ignored me, some high- fived me, most smiled. A few asked where there was a nearby Starbucks and looked punched in the gut when I said there was none (cheerleader fail.) The disgruntled cops who basically had a few old Israeli ladies and an excitable American (me) to deal with set about turning our corner into a crime-scene- worthy area of tape and barriers. Seriously, guys, let me "Whoo" in peace. I saw Ahuva running down and LOST IT. Then, she tried to make me run with her and luckily noticed that I was wearing boots and a leather jacket- the perfect "I'm retired from running" ensemble. After she passed and it was clear I must have missed my other friend, Mandy, I decided to go to the finish line and congratulate the athletic citizens of Jerusalem.

           The finish line was awesome. There were tents for the different charities people were raising money for (because what is a race without attaching a mitzvah, right?) and free Zumba classes. There was food and drink and the finish line for those awesome (insane) full-marathoners. I even met the winner of the entire race, fresh outta Kenya!

BFF

           But what was the best part of the whole day? The feeling of pride and unity that was almost physically palpable as you walked around the streets. This wasn't a marathon where people ignored the runners or just came to cheer their friends and family. Because everyone cheered for all the runners- everyone was your friends and family! It was a feeling unlike any other I've experienced at any race and I truly hope to make this a yearly things (and maybe even run it at some point but NO PROMISES.)

How do you beat these views?

         
            To keep this vibe going, I decided to go to a shabbat potluck lunch the next day. It was an event called SHUKSHABBAT and it was so outside of my comfort zone, I was slightly petrified. In Jerusalem there is a strong spiritual/hippie-style community in an area called Nachlaot. This community is lovely, happy, friendly and...not where I generally hang. That said, I asked my friend Brian to join me and wingman me in this new territory. The details were hazy: come at this time to this place and bring stuff for a potluck. Cool- what stuff? What people? Will there be plates? What if everyone brings cups and ketchup? What if there are no cups? What if it rains? Should We bring enough for everyone? Cool- how many people are coming?

                 Now, if you're a hippie, you will realize that all of these questions out me immediately as a non-hippie. Everyone who "belonged" there probably thought "cool. I'm in. I'll bring my tehini and my harem pants." Meanwhile I packed cutlery, a blanket, cups, napkins, snacks, wine and cookies. I wanted to a) not starve b) be able to share c) not sit on bird poop and d) not eat with my hands. You can take the girl out of NYC....

               So we get there early (because hippies don't give a flip about time) and wait for the kiddush food...and wait....and wait...and then start drinking wine. Because if I'm gonna get on their level, I'm gonna need wine. But then something incredible happened. Everything is set up and we're all sitting on the floor, meeting new people from all over the world who have settled in Jerusalem for a week, a year, for life. A guy gets up to make kiddush, and let's just say- he should be the representative of this event. Resplendent totally in white- tallit, kippa and overalls, with flowing, waist-length dreadlocks, he gave a beautiful extended rendition of kiddush while we all listened (and some of us floated) before we sat down to eat. The meal was truly a "yours is mine is ours" mentality. Here, take my hummus and try my guacamole! Do you have any challa left? Can I have some strawberries? Let's make a l'chaim on my wine! (Until that ran out, too too soon.) It was the most peaceful, unified crowd I've yet seen in this city. Girls in flowing dresses or leggings, guys in jeans or black hats, dancing and singing together- sharing their own stories and stories from the Torah portion. Set up in the corner was a small Torah scroll, so we could all join in the mitzvah of hearing Parshat Zachor in case we missed it that morning.

                  I don't know what the total amount of attendees was, but it was in the hundreds. I don't know if it was the gorgeous weather, the friendship chocolate an older hippie lady gave me, or the copious wine and non-copious water I drank, but I have never felt so unified with my fellow Jews in my life. I thought, "Hey! Maybe this hippie life is for me!." Now, I don't actually think that's true, I think it doesn't really jibe with my type-A, NYC, tiny bit Jappy personality but I will say that I enjoyed every minute and would jump at the chance to experience that pure joy and peoplehood again. I realized that this event could never happen anywhere else in the world, not in the Jewiest town in the diaspora. There will never be another city where the train tracks don't run on Saturday, where hundreds of people show up with food and wine and songs- ready to share with strangers who will soon be friends- all in the name of Shabbat.

                     So blessed to be here, and hoping that you all join me for a weekend in Jerusalem soon!

It is Better to be Feared Than Loved

          "...if you can't be both." Is Machiavelli correct here? Take yourself as an example- would you prefer to be feared by someone, if them loving you was off the table? Now substitute yourself with Israel and substitute "respected" for "feared." I've been thinking about this for a few months now (or maybe even years, if I'm being honest) and I wonder "Isn't it better for Israel to be respected for our strength if we know the world won't ever love us for our goodness?"

         Well, depends who you ask. The Left of Israel would answer "no." It is better to keep trying, keep giving, keep imploring and keep hope alive that "killing them with kindness" will finally bear fruit. Yes, boycott the "settlements"! Yes, re-open talks with Abbas! Yes, keep begging the US and Europe to intervene and stop our fascistic government from ruining our standing in their world's eyes. On the extreme Left, there was even a representative from Peace Now (emphasis on the absurdity of their nomenclature added) who blamed a victim of terrorism for daring to avoid more terrorism by killing his attacker! While this is an extreme case and most of the Israeli Left no doubt thinks this Peace Now loon is crazy too, there is definitely a vocal camp who would much rather Israel keep fighting for the world's love than seek the world's respect through strength. They truly believe that if the world only saw our humanitarian aid, our unparalleled commitment to democracy, our liberalism, our medical and technological contributions, the incredible lengths we would go to secure peace- we will surely earn the love. Can you guess where I stand?

          Correct! I see this charm offensive as great, but ultimately doomed to fail. As an analogy- a guy is in love with a girl who disdains but tolerates his existence. So he compliments her, writes her love notes, buys her presents- full-court charm offensive. Does she fall for him? Possibly. But more likely, she takes all that he gives her and still can't stand him. If perhaps she is neutral toward this Romeo, he has a shot. But I don't see the world as neutral toward Israel. I see a world where the Middle East abhors us, Europe can't stand us and North America is steadily becoming more hostile and less patient with "the cause of instability in the Middle East." (Who, me?) Call me a pessimist (go ahead, most people do) but I see myself as a realist and a true believer in the cyclical nature of history. To follow me on this thought process, we need to use "Israel" and "Jews" interchangeably. Some of you won't want to. You will hold fast to the delusion that we are 2 separate entities and if only Israel didn't exist we Jews would all be frolicking in the world's warm embrace. To this, I turn your attention to Sweden, France, Uruguay, etc, etc, etc where Jews are being targeted for wearing Yarmulkes, not Israeli flags. So if you can suspend your belief that it's just an Israel thing, we can continue.

           Throughout Jewish history, Jews have been hated. We are too rich and too poor. We hold ourselves separate and we assimilate. We are too smart and too ignorant. We control the media and the banks, we caused 9/11 (because no Jews were killed that day) and we started ISIS. We brought the Black Plague to Europe and we caused Germany's financial problems at the turn of the 20th century. We have become occupiers and we are the new Nazis. We have gone from the victims of a genocide to the progenitors of a new one. We are everything that is wrong in this world.

            This might have been really hard for you to read, it made me a bit ill to write it. But this is who have been seen as a nation, and anti-Semitism is an irrational hatred that has no cause, it just is and always has been. This kind of hatred will never result in the world's love. This type of hatred causes Jews killed in terrorism in Israel to be greeted with headlines like "3 Palestinians killed by IDF Forces." It causes hummus to come with stickers that say "This company participates in apartheid." It causes Jews to be disinvited from international sporting events, and rallies with cries of "Back to the ovens!" and countless swastikas to be scrawled on Jewish homes from Montreal to NYC to Antwerp. This is not a world that is ever going to love us, no matter what we do.

            So what can we work towards? Respect. Let's look to the times when Jews, (and by extension Israel) were most respected. It was after our victory in the 6- Day War, when we showed the world we could defend our country defensively from essentially the rest of the Middle East. It was when the Maccabis won a decisive victory of the small against the large and the weak against the strong. It was after the Warsaw ghetto uprising and the partisans in the forest. It was when the Jews of Persia defended themselves against certain annihilation in the story of Purim (which is coming up soon!) It is in all the stories of heroism, when Jews fight back against their aggressors (with selfie sticks, guitars, or the terrorist's own knife!) It is when Israel worries about the safety of it's citizens and Jews around the world, without worrying so much about the world's love. It's when we show our strength, our might and our fortitude- when we refuse to be victims.

           So me? I will continue to advocate for the world's respect- not through unprovoked violence or war, but through a brave army, a responsibly armed populace and whatever other measures are necessary to keep us all safe and strong. Because that love we all want from the rest of the world? In my opinion, it's not coming. And I'm okay with that. 

Am Yisrael Chai- The Nation of Israel Lives.

The streets wear our pride

Lest Ye Be Judged

      Wow! I haven't blogged in almost a month. I can attribute that to the pretty basic, non-exciting yet still lovely month I've had. The weather was gross, now it's incredibly gorgeous. You wake up on February 17th and the sun is shining and you throw on a light jacket and as if by Divine intervention Matisyahu is singing "Sunshine" on your iTunes and you head to work. You put in your hours, maybe get a drink after work, wait for a super short and hectic vacation Friday and eat, socialize and pass out for the 25 hours of Shabbat. And it's been that way for the last month, give or take. Oh! And my sister got engaged, so that's pretty fantastic. Have to find something to wear and a part of me wants it to go smoothly and another part of me wants it to be an insane disaster so I can blog about it. More to come. Today's post is something I've been turning over in my mind for months and I don't know how to even approach it, so if it sounds disjointed, my bad!
     This blog was started to document my transition from America to Israel through the process of Aliyah. I think we all know the basics by now.
Who? Me. What? Moving to Israel When? July 1, 2014, Where? Jerusalem (for now) Why? Zionism. And I think if you know me or have followed my journey at all, you know that I'm not some spring chicken hoping to start my adult adventure in a new and exciting place. I lived a nice chunk of young adulthood in NYC and came to this decision relatively "late in life" so to speak. Most of the people in my peer group here in Jerusalem, in my ulpan, on the NBN website, etc, who came here single did so younger than me. It took me a while to decide, to save money, to create a plan and to get up the nerve to make this change. A change I have always contended is for the rest of my life. I was never making this change to "try out" aliyah or to "give it a chance." I envisioned my great- grandchildren living here (how's that for forward thinking even before being married?) 
        But I've come to find that this isn't the case for everyone, and that even my own certainty can be taken to task by skeptical strangers on the Internet. Some examples. There is a Facebook group for olim- I assume it's meant to be an online support and information community for those of us who've committed to the difficult task of starting life over in Israel. As anyone who is a part of this group knows, it has often devolved into a "I hate Israel" complaint society. Truly, some days there are 5 "life here isn't worth it"s and "I'm leaving" posts- easy. And then there is a rush to calm the poster down and soothe them and convince them to stay (I'm guessing- I don't do much follow-up.) Usually I don't engage, but one time I jumped in to defend my friend who gave this complainer some tough love and suddenly, I was being roasted! When I mentioned that Zionism brought me here, some random guy (who I think actually lives in England) asked me if I was so Zionist, had I renounced my American citizenship, and what kind of a Zionist could I be if I hadn't served in the IDF. I thought the questions were kind of insane, and a poor barometer of my Zionism. If I love Israel, I have to hate America? Could there never be a family emergency that brought me back to the States? And if I decided to move here as an Orthodox woman past the age of 25, should I beg the army to let me serve? The whole argument was ludicrous, but here I was- having my aliyah judged! 
        A few weeks later, I again found myself embroiled in an online argument with a stranger (I am working on this, you should know- I'm aware it's not a good look.) Again I was defending a friend from a Facebook bully and he growled back. He told me (he doesn't know me, but we have some mutual friends) that he and his friends often talk about me and take bets on when I will make yerida (leave Israel for good). Wait, what? A guy who disagrees with me politically, wishing me failure on my life in Israel? Does my loud and proud Right-Wing Zionism threaten him so much personally that he secretly hopes it fails? That's crazy! And then I realized- this is a thing. And although he's pretty nasty, he's not the only one who does it.
        Judging people's Zionism, their dedication to this country, their support for Israel, their likelihood to remain here for good- this isn't something that only Facebook bullies do- we all do it! Even me! Especially me? I have had conversations where I cluck at people who are thinking about leaving and going back to their countries of birth. I shake my head at people who call those places "home." "We are home!" I exclaim with pride, not pausing to wonder whether it comes off as hurtful. I might judge someone who goes back to their birth country 2 and 3 times a year and think "commit yourself to your move!" I wonder incredulously at olim who contemplate raising their family anywhere besides Israel, knowing that the main focus of my move was to raise a family here. It's been a time of real self-reflection, and I often haven't enjoyed what I've seen. I hate criticism in general and self-criticism is worse, because I can be brutally honest. But without this introspection, I wouldn't be able to grow, and L-rd knows I need to. I need to help that person want to stay here. I don't need to coddle them and jump on their "Israel is the worst" bandwagon. But I can listen to their concerns, come up with meaningful possible solutions and try and share my Zionist love affair with them. I can try and be an advocate for the good, without ignoring their valid complaints of the bad. And I can realize that just because the annoying things here don't bother me as much, that the positive so outweighs the negative in my aliyah process and that I intend for my aliyah to be permanent doesn't mean that everyne feels the same way. Or has to. Or ever will. And just like I have to learn to accept people who are different from me in a myriad ways, so too I have to accept, love and not judge my fellow olim who are dealing with their life change in a different way. I hope I can do it and I think I can do it- I'll keep you posted!