Jordana in 2020

The last time I posted a blog was in January. And while that may sound weird, considering the downtime we've all had this past year, let us also consider what we've largely been doing: Nothing.

For posterity's sake and in case my kids ever read this blog on their iPhone37s one day, we are T- minus 7 days from 2021. And while I assumed we'd be entering this new year filled with optimism for better times ahead, I can't help but be tempered by the reality that I'm last on the list for a vaccine, we need 70-80% country-wide compliance before things can return to normal, and mostly- we have no idea what normal actually means.

So maybe a yearly recap then? In January I was traveling (lol!) through Europe, not a care in the world. I came back with a wicked case of laryngeo-tracheitis which upon reflection I wonder was early-adoption Covid. I think everyone I know who was randomly sick in January or February 2020 thinks they were patient zero for Covid, but I digress.

This gal traveling in Portugal has no idea what's coming

I remember watching a Facebook video about a virus in far-flung Wuhan, China which looked out of a science fiction/horror movie. "Wow," I thought, "It must really suck to live in Wuhan." Never did I expect it would suck to live... literally everywhere.

Then came Purim and rumblings that the virus was spreading. Did I go to shul and a party? Yep! Was I on a committee to host a dinner the Friday night following that the rabbi didn't want to cancel because he was sure it would all be fine by then? Yep! Was that the beginning of life as we knew it? YEP!

In short order, life shut down. It was during the first lockdown that I really understood the breadth of the pandemic. Of course there was the physical toll (more on that later) but the emotional, economic and mental tolls were never something I foresaw. And it was that mental and emotional strain that caused me to flee a country that had Covid "under control" (Israel) to join the hysterical masses in Covid-ravaged New York to be with my family. 

To Cliff's Notes the next part of the year: I flew in an empty airport, essentially holding my breath in fear for 10 hours before joining my parents in a house where we all wore masks. Around each other. We had a lovely, low-key Pesach after which I discovered that there was essentially no way for me to get back home. Flight after flight got canceled, resulting in nine incredible weeks in NYC. And by NYC I mean the four walls of my house because I basically saw nothing and went nowhere.

All that said, those nine weeks were bizarrely some of the most incredible I've ever had. Tragically, my grandfather Henry Sealine passed in the beginning of my stay. I was able to say goodbye to him and attend his funeral which probably would have been difficult in the best of times but certainly impossible during a pandemic. I was able to be there for my mother during a shiva week where no one else could be there for her. I was able to watch my nephews and grocery shop and help out in a way I generally can't living so far away.

And my sister's family was under the same roof en route to moving houses, so I had nine weeks of unadulterated family time, which I know will never happen again. So that was definitely the peak in a year chock full of valleys.

Did I force my family to take this photo because I never get to be in family photos anymore? Sure did!

Finally I came home and by that I mean to my apartment. All the time. As someone I refer to as "Covid-careful" (too careful?) I turned into someone totally new- a homebody. Pre-Covid I was out maybe 4-5 nights a week. I was social, guys. Suddenly I was always home. Parties were paused as were big Shabbat dinners. Weddings were on Zoom and so was wine club. Meeting new people became difficult so dating became even more so. Tel Aviv, the Israeli city that never slept took a long nap (for me at least- I saw some people raging on Instagram and well- it's their lives!) Summer passed me by unnoticed and Fall was largely uneventful but punctuated by High Holidays spent praying alone due to a second country-wide lockdown.

Here we are in December and heading into yet another lockdown (an idea so amazingly beneficial it has to be tried again!) Truth be told, I was unaware the second lockdown had ended. Just passing closed restaurant after shuttered bar- I didn't really see the point of this lockdown but then again, I'm not one of the super-geniuses running our government (can't wait to choose my favorite super-genius in the upcoming "yearly election!")

I'm now chilling in bidud (quarantine) because I recently went back to the States for an even shorter period of time than I will be in said quarantine. And why would I make such a crazy sacrifice? Because my delicious nephew was a bar mitzvah and some things in this world are worth the aggravation of Covid flights, 4 Covid tests, a 2- week quarantine and month-long jet-lag. This was one of them. 

Me and my favorite Bar Mitzvah young man

So here I sit- a few days before my bidud birthday and on the precipice of a new year. One that the optimist in me hopes is better, while the science-lover in me waits patiently for the vaccine. And until then I will wear my mask, eat my sushi at home, a raise a rosé l'chaim to 2021- may it be the happiest, healthiest year yet!

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.

Perspective

I keep making excuses for my lack of productivity on this blog. The goal was to write about my aliyah. Well, that is old news. There comes a time in an olah's life where it switches from "oh! You just got here!" to "oh! You've been here for a while!" and I truly do not know what the delineation is, but it's happened. And the reason I have time to blog today is because the Tel Aviv municipality has canceled non-essential work for a Siren Day! Gone is the era of snow days. In this country, only an election or an incoming rocket will cause businesses to close. Not to mention we're having the warmest Autumn in nine years so snow isn't only not an issue, it's nowhere on the horizon. But the funniest part of this all is that I've been here long enough that this isn't even my first siren experience! That happened a few days after I got here.

This is the Iron Dome- Gd bless the Iron Dome

My mother calls me in a panic, wants to make sure I did the siren the right way. In the fortified room, in the basement, stayed there an extra 15 minutes to be safe. I didn't but I say "yep!" I take care of myself pretty well. It makes me laugh to think she's worried about me, here in the Jewish state. I face the enemy we know, in this case Islamic Jihad who are angry we've killed a leader of theirs. Meanwhile, my family sits in New York City, often referred to as Jew York City for its enormous Jewish population, now facing religious threats much like the rest of the country where I once lived. 

I recently went to NYC to visit my family and meet my new baby nephew (he is SO poopoopoo I literally can't even!) and my mom and I went to shul for Yom Kippur prayers. My mom kept glancing at the door, which made sense because she really can't wait to get out of shul. We were in the basement group service, whereas the other two services were upstairs near the front entrances. My mom turned to me and said "I don't like how that entrance isn't guarded" like the other two upstairs were. "Doesn't it make you nervous?" Now, by nature, I'm not a worrier and my mother is the definition of one (Jewish moms, yadda yadda) but for once I thought her anxiety might be founded.

I left America, the goldene medineh- the promised land for a people that was tortured by every country in the diaspora where they fled. Europe, North Africa and the Middle East all became inhospitable to their Jewish populations and it seemed like America was the first country to break that mold. And honestly, I would never compare America to what Jews are facing elsewhere in the world in 2019. I don't generally worry for my family's safety. But I do hear about a new incident (or ten) every day- a swastika on a synagogue, a vandalized cemetery, a beating of a Hasidic-looking Jew, a BDS resolution, a bomb threat, an anti-Semitic outburst on a subway- that makes me wonder if the clock is ticking on our time in the US.

Jewish cemetery in Nebraska vandalized, November 2019

I hope not. I don't want anyone to feel scared to threatened, least of all my family and friends. I don't want anyone to have to hide their Jewishness or their support for the Jewish state. And as much as I want people to make aliyah and come home, I don't want them to do it because they have to. I love my family intensely, but they don't want to move here (try as I might to badger them about it in nearly every conversation.) And if they ever do come, I want it to be running toward, not running away. So as I sit here on my unexpected Siren Day off from work, I think about how funny perspective is, with my mom terrified of rockets falling on Tel Aviv, and me feeling like I'm living in the safest country in the world to be Jewish. Perspective.

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."

70 Years Young

So it's Yom Hazikaron in Tel Aviv. Tonight, I heard the siren on the bus for the first time. I had always wondered what people riding on a bus did when the remembrance siren that sounds all over the country goes off for a full minute. Well, I don't know what every bus does, but ours stopped mid-street, everyone got out of their seats (driver included) and we stood solemnly, many with tears in our eyes, thinking whatever the siren made us think about.

Normally, I do the (insert number here) things I love most about Israel, but this year I'm going to take a bit of a break from that for several reasons:
1. I have been pretty sick with intense allergies since I got back to Israel. Weirdly, one of the reasons I loved Israel in the past was because I didn't have the killer seasonal allergies I did back in NYC. Whoops, guess I do!
2. After the month away and the allergy plague I was dealing with, I also have to work! And be social! Sadly, the list-making fell by the wayside. And
3. Making a list of over 50 of anything is hard! If I told you right now to make a list of the 50 things you love most about your mom, it would be tough, lemme tell ya. Well I did that twice in a row and starting today I will start collecting 71,  don't you worry! (Feel free to contribute ideas!)

Just decorating my new balcony!

So instead, I will write a love letter to my country and its people:

Dear Israelis,

Thank you for your warmth. Thank you for inviting me and hugging me and caring about me like your own family. Because honestly, I am. Thank you for inviting me to dance and joining me in lchaims! Thank you for dealing with (and not dealing with) my Hebrew and my accent. Thank you for building this amazing place in such a blindingly short period of time. Thank you for making the desert bloom, and helping the world every time it needed it (and being so gracious when the world rarely thanked you.) Thank you for your sons and daughters, and the incredible sacrifices they have made to ensure Israel can endure under incredible pressure.

Dear Israel, 

Thank you for being our sanctuary. Thank you for being the one place in the world where a Jew can be proud to be a Jew, where wearing a kippa won't get you punched, where a kosher meal is just around the corner (and then around the next one), where the calendar is lunar and the holidays have been celebrated by my people for centuries. Thanks you for taking in the survivors of the Shoah and the refugees from the Middle East, the tribes of Ethiopia and and India and the persecuted of the Soviet Union. And though some in America may forget (willfully or not), I will not forget the home you have given to millions of Jews in need, Jews truly escaping from exile.

Israelis,

You are impatient and you are generous to a fault. You are aggressive and you love fiercely. You are argumentative and you are innovative. You hate so much about this country and love it fully. Sometimes you leave because the golden streets of America (or Canada, or London, or Australia) call you, but you always know that this is your home.

Israel, 

You are beautiful and complex, you are so young and you are ancient. You are left and "hard right." You are vegan and you barbecue for every occasion. You are ultra-Orthodox and you are the most progressive country in the region. You are Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, but you are also Haifa and the desert and the mountains and Tzfat and Judea and Samaria and all of you is home.

Dearest Israelis,

My blessing to you is limitless success and wealth. May we build together a land so full of material wealth that American Jews come here to build their fortunes! May you continue to grow in number and in joy- may we unify as a people in a land as we were always meant to- one Nation with one heart. And may our differences not tear us apart, may they teach us more about one another. May we realize that we, each other, are the greatest gift we have. And may we celebrate many more smachot together.

Dearest Israel,

My blessing to you is safety and strength. May our holy army remain safe from harm, and may our enemies see no fruits from their terror. May G-d continue to watch over His people and His country, so that in the next 70 years and beyond, we know only peace and happiness. Thank you for welcoming me and thank you for being my Home.

Chag Haatzma'ut Sameach to everyone!

Hello from Jordana in Jerusalem (, Israel!)

Depending on whom you ask, what happened yesterday was either the greatest thing ever, the worst catastrophe since Hiroshima, or no big deal. Reactions range from "Trump is the messiah" to "This is going to cause untold danger for you" to "Okay, so what?" To the first person I say, "Relax, bro. Appreciate the good vibes, but he most certainly is not." To the second I say, "thanks for your sudden concern for my personal safety! Where was this concern during the last knife intifada?" And to the third response, I say, "Perk up, buddy! This is great!" And here are the top 5 reasons I think so:

Some think this is cheesy. Luckily, I love cheese.

1. Pragmatics- I was just talking to a pregnant friend who said, "Finally my baby will have 'Jerusalem, Israel' on his passport. Do you know how much I'm hurt every time some anti-Israel consulate official smirks when he hands me a passport that says 'Jerusalem, nowhere?' Happy that won't happen again!" And it's true! Although this move changes little legally, I know when my future babies are born (please Gd poo poo poo!) they will be from both the city and country they were born, at lease vis a vis their American passports!

2. Ripple Effect- Already the Czech Republic followed suit in recognizing our capital and Hungary and the Philippines want to move their embassies to Jerusalem. This recognition by the United States, like everything else they do, gives other counties the strength, cover and precedence to do the right thing. Can't wait for the day when we learn in the history books about that crazy time when Jerusalem wasn't considered the capital of Israel!

3. Legitimacy- Enough arguing with leftists over "status of Jerusalem." By nature, arguing with true leftists is a fruitless endeavor (don't think I'm blind to the fact that them arguing with me is almost as fruitless.) But it's always nice to have this moment, this little legal feather in my cap. And as much as they insist that Trump isn't their president (hi guys, Obama was mine and as you may remember, I wasn't a fan. And yes I know, you really hate Trump a lot) he is officially the president, he let the waiver lapse, and ultimately, the law passed in 1995 (under President Bill Clinton) will be implemented. In short, a law that was put on hold for over 20 years is now going to be implemented. So that's awesome.

4. Return to sanity- Jerusalem as capital is reality. When I was little, as a native New Yorker, it bothered me that small-town Albany, and not New York City was the capital of New York. It annoyed me that Washington DC, a city from no state, was the capital of the USA. I was 10.  But it didn't change the fact that Albany was the capital of NY and D.C. was the capital of America. So it's great for America to get on board with the facts. Wikipedia knows it. Siri knows it. Google knows it. Weather.com knows it. Now we all know it.

5. Shows us where we all really stand- Like I mentioned before, while I can appreciate people suddenly caring so much about my safety and well-being, you actually really don't. This whole situation is showing me that people believe we should give into bullies, kowtow to terrorists, and put the anger of our enemies before the fulfillment of our own people. A friend wrote on Facebook that the international condemnation of this move highlights the real racism. It is a "racism of low expectations." It is expecting, rightfully, that anything done that does not adhere to treating the Palestinians with kid gloves will be met with death and destruction. And somehow, that's okay with them. It's bizarre. 

I've been hearing a lot about this not being the "right time." I would like to know when that time will be. Can anyone reading this tell me a time in the near (or distant) future, when the enemies of Israel will be open to this move? At what magical future time will Jordan, Turkey and Abbas all say, "You know what? It's really time to recognize Jerusalem- call off the rage!" That time ain't coming, kids, so let's let this be the time.

And for you sweet souls who believe this outrageous move put an end to "any hope for a real peace agreement"? Please message me privately, I have a huge bridge I'd like to sell you! 

Okay, so I have to get back to my job, here in Jerusalem, Israel. If you need me after 6, I'll be at my apartment in Jerusalem, Israel. And if you want to send me a letter, please send it straight to Jordana in Jerusalem, ISRAEL. K, I'm done!

G-d bless you and G-d bless Jerusalem, Israel.

My Friend Made Aliyah

I couldn't think of a flashier title, because the one I chose is so full of emotion, I didn't want to mess with it. Last week, a close friend of mine names Ariella made Aliyah, and it was just about the most exciting thing I could imagine. As I celebrated 3 years here on July 1, I thought of the changes in my life that have happened in that time. Nothing huge. No wedding, no babies, not elected to Knesset (yet). And as of today, I'm still Jordana IN Jerusalem! So what, really, is the big deal about 3 years here? 

Everything.

At three years, I have watched my ulpan and Aliyah friends decide that Israel wasn't for them, and leave. I have seen more people come to Israel to try and make it their home too. I have seen holidays and festivals, birthday parties and smachot. I have been to concerts and funerals, I have seen babies born here, and witnessed pretty much every Jewish life cycle event after that. Three years in the scheme of a lifetime is short, but it is enough time to outgrow my Aliyah "honeymoon phase" and the sparkly title of "olah chadasha" (new immigrant.) 

Although I probably still am a new immigrant, most days I feel completely at home, in a way I never did living in New York for decades. I walk the streets here or traverse the country in the knowledge that these are my streets and this landscape is my own. I never feel like I'm visiting, like this is a stop on my journey. I consider myself unendingly blessed to feel that this was truly my destination.

So when I tell you that my friend making Aliyah was one of the most exciting things to happen, it's not hyperbole. Let's not kid ourselves, life is hard sometimes and moving to a whole new country and culture will be tough (we've talked about this here and here) but the only consistent bummer is being away from family and close friends. I pray regularly that my family will join me here, but it doesn't seem to be on the horizon. And although sporadic visits from family members and my yearly pilgrimage back to NYC are great, they will never be a substitute for living near family. So when a close friend like Ariella told me a few months back that she was going to make Aliyah, I was elated!

Not to get into the back-and-forth about how Aliyah should be EVERY Jew's ultimate goal (because I don't want to argue with you) but the idea that someone I love, in a similar social situation, with a similar background and the same attachment to her family was making Aliyah just like I did was extremely validating and exciting. She would ask logistical questions and always preface or end conversations with "sorry to bother" and I would respond "this is no bother! I wish I could have this conversation with every one of my friends! I'm so proud of you!"

Some Israelis riding the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv bus!

So when she finally made Aliyah last week, it hit me harder than I thought. It was my friend, taking a huge step and hopefully succeeding in building an amazing new life in Israel, of course. But it was also seeing someone else, realizing a 3,000 year long dream, leaving the diaspora to come home and showing everyone back in America that this is the goal we should ALL have, we should ALL strive to achieve. 

This is what 3 years has taught me. It has been HARD and it has been wonderful. It has been LONG and it has gone by in a blink. It has been LONELY at times, but I have made new soul connections. It has been DIFFERENT to what I expected and so much more. And it has showed me, an American from New York with a tiny bit of jappiness, that there is more to life than Target and Bagels and Co. and that a new goal in my life is to help my friends and family come home- to Israel.

And when that time comes, I will tell you everything you'll need to know. I'll stay on the phone with you as long as you want, answer all your questions. I'll calm you down and build you up. I'll sit with you in Misrad Hapnim and give you the name of a great manicurist/real estate agent/pediatrician/handyman. I will do whatever it takes to have you here with me and Ariella and the rest of your Jewish brothers and sisters. 

I promise!

On Parades and Aliyah

I may have mentioned that I grew up in a super pro-Israel household. The Israeli flag flies outside our door. I toured the country top to bottom at 13 with my family. We ate falafel at shul every Yom Haatzmaut. And most importantly, my family attended every Salute To Israel Parade down Fifth  Avenue in New York City, every year of my life. 

I was rolled through it as a baby in my stroller, flag flying behind me. I was a spectator most of my childhood, due to the chareidi nature of my elementary and high schools- Bais Yaakov of Queens may not have marched, but the Brown family most definitely attended! In 11th grade, I switched to a Zionist high school and was able to march for the first time. All my new friends yawned and complained about having to march again, but I was unbelievably excited. I even marched proudly again in 12th grade, when a large segment of my senior peers opted out. And in the college and post-college years that followed, Parade Day was one I always looked forward to, painting my nails blue and white and planning my outfits and coordinating meet up spots with my friends, some of whom I would only see on that one magical day of the year. 

I think I've also mentioned that it was never my lifelong goal to make Aliyah. For much of my young adulthood, my goals were: getting a well-paying job, finding a fellow pro-Israel  Jew to marry, settling down in some orthodox Jewish enclave and raising pro-Israel children, who would then hopefully repeat the cycle. Nothing on that list isn't exactly what 99% of my friends were hoping to accomplish as well. But about 6 years ago, when I began to become interested in Israel as a place to live, rather than a place to visit, the Parade changed for me, too. 

Deciding to move to Israel is a seismic, fundamental shift in character. It is a change in every way you can imagine, and my own move shocked everyone who wasn't intimately involved in my Zionist activism in the few years that preceded it. If you didn't see me during the years I took those 12 Birthright  groups to Israel, you would think I was the same Jordana who sang "Hatikva" at my Young Israel's 5k run-walk for Israel".

But once I decided that Israel was the place I had to live, because I am a pro-Israel Jew, I began to feel something odd at the parade. This isn't going  to be a blog where I berate everyone for not making Aliyah- I'm sure that will come someday, but not today. This is just my view as Jordana in Jerusalem, and maybe a bit of food for thought as well. 

Supporting Israel is great. Visiting Israel for Sukkot is great. Donating to Israel  is great. Singing hatikva in your Young Israel is great. Hanging the Israeli flag outside your home is great. Cheering on Team Israel at the World Baseball  Classic is great. Eating a shwarma on Main Street that Dudu sold you is great. Painting your nails blue and white is great. Dancing to Omer Adam at your house party is great. And going to the Salute to Israel Parade is great!

But it is not the goal, or at least it shouldn't be. Even if you think Aliyah isn't for you- it's so hard (it is), you'll be poor (you will), it's too far (sooo far), you don't speak Hebrew (lo norah), the people are mean (yeah, but they're also so nice!) and every other excuse I've heard a million times, it should be an ideal. Something you wish you could do, you hope to do someday. I promise you, ten years ago, Aliyah was not in my plans. But it was always an ideal, something I wished I could do. And ten years later I did!

Just think about it, and have an amazing time celebrating our country at today's parade!

My last parade before Aliyah

69 MORE Reasons I love Israel!

Well, kids! It's been ages since the last time I blogged. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me "When are you writing a new blog post?" I'd have... like 40 dollars. And most of that would be from my mom. But here I am, back in action, special for the best holiday of the year- Yom Ha'atzmaut! I can't say that nothing has happened in my life since September 2016, of course it has. But nothing that moved me to write a blog post, I guess. But now that I'm back here, maybe I'll stay! Aliyah starts with excitement and new and different and then a few years in, it's normal. It's your life. Sure, the bank is always an experience, but you've already been to the bank 100 times! So hopefully I can get back into making quality content on this blog- even if I have to just make stuff up- just kidding!

As yesterday was Israeli Independence Day and this year I actually spent it in Israel (unlike last year) I thought I'd give 69 more reasons I love this Land- one for every year since our Independence. Only, it's a bit hard to come up with so many new things! Not that Israel isn't truly magical every day, but it can be hard to quantify all the little things that make this so great. So I came up with a bunch and asked people (basically everyone) I knew to contribute. And here they are:

The 69 Reasons I love Israel Most

1) I love that I could watch the American presidential election go down from the sidelines, because if I lived in NYC I know I would have been completely immersed. And probably gone crazy.
2) I love that I've met my mayor six times.
3) Unlike my family in NYC, I love my mayor.

4) I loved watching everyone running the Jerusalem marathon in different colored t-shirts denoting worthy Jewish charities.
5) I love that delicious kosher options are exploding all over Israel-so many that visiting friends don't even know where to start and need to plan return trips to try them all.
6) I love all the amazing musical artists coming to perform here, knowing Israelis are among the best and loudest fans they have (see you soon, Aerosmith and Britney!)
7) I love that Israel wants to help the Jewish nation grow- providing IVF and fertility services for women who are struggling to conceive.
8) I still love the vibe of the shuk at night- a learning about my history and culture with the graffiti-ed murals painted on all the stalls. 
9) I love the National Israeli Baseball Team, who came out of nowhere to make the whole country so proud when they rocked the World Baseball Classic.

10) I still love Cofix- even though they raised their prices! (from 5 to 6 shekel!)

11) I love how Israel won 2 Olympic (bronze) medals and the country celebrated more than America and her 121 medals ever could.
12) I love how excited Israelis are about Ama're Stoudemire- they love basketball and America so no matter what he does here for his team, he's a hero.
13) I love that my quest for the ultimate Israeli breakfast continues another year (Adraba in TLV and Nocturno in Nachlaot are favorites for this year.)
14) I love the unity I'm seeing from our ally, the USA. I'm excited for the strengthened friendship Nikki Haley and David Friedman seem to be spearheading.
15) I loved seeing the desert bloom this winter as the South hosted the Darom Adom (Red South) festival.
16) I love how handy and well-equipped Israeli guys are- they can pitch a tent, start a fire, change a tire and make a mean poika (kind of a beach stew) without breaking a sweat.
17) I love spending Shabbat in Tel Aviv! I know, right? I have the privilege of having shabbat dinner with 150 young professionals of all stripes and then enjoying an incredible Shabbat day kiddush every time I go!
18) I know it might seem odd, but after many years, this year I went to my first Henna- twice! I love Hennas! I love the pageantry and the food and the music and the culture of my Sephardi brothers and sisters.

19) Speaking of smachot- I love Israeli weddings! Most of them may not be as lavish as the ones in the States, but they are so beautiful! The backdrops, the views, the mix of guests- every wedding holds the potential for the best night of the year.
20) I love photo magnets! Apparently this hasn't caught on in the US just yet (I think you do photo booths?) but it's super fun to get photo mementos of being all dressed up with your friends and blanketing your whole fridge in magnets.

21) I've said it before but I love wine festivals! And since last year, I've discovered that Herzeliya also has a white wine festival- so that's basically a dream come true!
22) I love the normalcy that comes with living here almost 3 years.  Life here now is normal, and I love knowing that I'm where I'm meant to be.
23) I love that I live in the center of Jewish world- it's so fun always bumping into someone you know from back in the day or getting to see friends and family from the old country when they make a visit here.
24) I love the left- wing Israelis. I know that seems odd coming from me, but defending my position and my ideology in a productive and meaningful way both opens my mind and strengthens my own beliefs.
25) I love that the rhythm of the country is based on Judaism. Weeks, months and years- Israel moves to a Jewish beat.
26) I love that losing your wallet often ends with its return and your faith in humanity rejuvenated.
27) I love how here in Israel, my third cousins are just "cousins." I feel just as close to them as I do my first cousins back in the States, because they have taken me into their family so fully and lovingly.
28) I love that Tinder in Israel is basically JSwipe and Jews are able to meet other Jews and start Jewish families and have Jewish babies. Makes me smile.
29) I love ending a fun night out with a 3 AM shwarma. 

30) I love that even the graffiti is Jewish- Na Nach Nachman Me'uman! 

31) I loved the way the country stops on Yom Hazikaron and Yom Hashoa. A lot has been said about it, but I agree. It's beautiful and important.
32) I love how different Yom Hazikaron is from Memorial Day in the States. I love that Israelis consider it one of the holiest days of their year and grieve so fully for their loved ones. It hits home for everyone here, and it's palpable.
33) I love Yom Ha'atzmaut! Don't get me wrong, July 4 is super fun but for me it doesn;t compare to Israeli Independence Day. And the celebrations are non-comparable too- Israelis GO WILD for their tiny country built on miracles! 
34) I love that you know the next Jewish holiday because of what is on sale at the supermarket (like donuts before Hanukkah, dried fruit before Tu b'Shvat, and cleaning supplies before Pesach!)
35) I love that little kids will tell you we must save water "for the Kinneret"
36) I love that this country actually utilizes the Hebrew (lunar) calendar! In the US, I probably couldn't even tell you the lunar month. Here, you can write the Hebrew date on your checks!

37) I love that Israelis are called Sabras- prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside is the perfect fruit-based analogy.
38) I love how I get to know different cultures, both Israeli and of my fellow olim. Anglos/English speakers are diverse, we're not just Americans! I now know lots about the Brits, Canadians, Aussies and South Africans (my fave!)
39) I love that most of my most important phone apps were developed in Israel- where would we be without Whatsapp, Moovit, and Waze? (Probably friendless, stranded and lost!)
40) I love when Birthright season begins- I pray now more than ever, Jews in the diaspora will see how incredible Israel is and spread the word.

41) I love Wine Wednesday. It's a charity initiative in Tel Aviv where young professionals get together (Usually on a gorgeous rooftop) to raise money for a worthy charity and drink wine with friends. It's the best way to give back! 

42) I love that when Israelis get married and move away, they're generally generally still nearby. Makes me a bit sad that I can't say the same (although my parents can always make aliyah and join me- keep praying, friends!)
43) I love when people say that I'm so lucky that I live here, and I get to tell them that they too can live here! And the government will even give them money to do so!

44) I love that Israel revived a dead language. What was for so many year only utilized in Torah study is now a thriving and ever-growing language representing the Jewish homeland.
45) I love that cab drivers will always have a guy for you. It is amazing how they can truly see how perfect Dudu and I would be for each other after 7 minutes in a cab.
46) I love the sign on the bus that says what day of the Omer it is.
47) I love having one day of chag. When I lived in the States, I swore the extra day made the chag extra beautiful. I lied. Make that one day beautiful.
48) I love that Aroma gets in on Jewish holidays like giving gelt on Chanuka and funny face wrapped chocolates on Purim.

49) I love the aggressive love Israelis show you once you finally establish that it is, in fact, coming from a place of love. It's like a country full of people who want what's best for you, whether or not you want the same.
50) I love that Shabbat dinner isn't just for the Orthodox here- that so many Israelis consider this beautiful custom an important tradition.

51) I love all the budget airlines that allow cheaper travel. I have flown to more countries in 2 years than all my life in NYC, and on extremely sketchy airline (one was actually called JetAirFly.com- I kid you not!)
52) I love that the buskers here play Jewish songs.
53) I love the siren before Shabbat, letting you know the country is about to slow way down.
54) I love the Bar mitzvah celebrations in the Old City- a cacophony of shofar blowing and bongo playing accompanying the 13 year old and his 50 closest family members and friends.
55) I love that Israelis call their friends "neshama" or "soul."
56) I love borrowing money from someone behind me on the bus and having them tell me to give it to tzedaka instead of paying them back.
57) I love that the municipality decorated the side streets of downtown Jerusalem all summer, making our beautiful city even more so!

58) I love the Israeli folk dancing in public places- Israeli senior citizens staying fit and young by cutting a rug on a Tuesday evening.
59) I still love the light rail- even when it gets held up for 17 minutes for suspicious objects, it's still a super quick and comfortable alternative to the bus and it has made Yafo street pedestrian and therefore an excellent place to stroll.
60) I love that I have the ability to connect with other Israelis anywhere in the world. Whether is was my pub-crawl guide in Amsterdam, my waiter in Paris or the owner of my bagel store in NYC, being Israeli gives you an instant connection to other people around the world. Israelis are a roaming people, but it's certainly special to find a piece of home so far away.

61) I love Jerusalem stone- its is strong, and beautiful and everything in this city is composed of it. Every time I see it in the States and hear how hard it was to get it and how expensive it was to import it, I think "My city is just covered in the stuff!"
62) I love the fact that the news has someone translating everything into sign language and so do Yom Ha'azmaut concerts! Watching someone "sing" hatikvah in sign language is so moving!63) I love that I don't have a car and I'm surviving just fine. I basically lives in my car in Queens and thought that this change would be horrible- it hasn't and I make it work. Maybe one day, though...
63) I love that the Israel haters bother me less- I live here, I see the good, I know the truth. I can see for myself how wonderful it is, I don't need their approval or acceptance. And I'll never get it any way, so why be upset about it?
64) I love how people say "Shabbat shalom", not "Have a good weekend." This may be due to the fact that essentially our whole weekend is shabbat, since Sundays are workdays, but I prefer to see the Jewish beauty in the concept.
65) I love how there are a bazillion native English speakers, but no one ever seems to ask us to proofread their signs or menus! I wait patiently for the day when someone posts a job opening seeking "translations proofreader." Then my aliyah will be truly perfect.
66) I love how this is a country full of Jewish mothers, which means that pretty much everywhere you go, someone in looking out for you and worrying about you. Makes ya feel good.
67) I love how we call Israel "Ha'aretz- the Land" and anywhere outside of it "Chutz La'aretz- outside the Land."
68) I love how when I had a bit of trouble coming up with so many things, everyone had a suggestion which made me fall even more deeply in love with this place.
69) I love how now that this is my home, I get to find new things to love about it every day!

Thank you for reading and feel free to add your own reasons! Looking forward to another fantastic year in Israel, awaiting the day when you join me and together we can celebrate Israel's 70th- next year in Jerusalem!