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."

A Peace Summit on the 480

       I just met Lenny, an American Jewish philosophy professor, on the bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. We chatted the entire ride. Lenny informed me that he was here in Israel as a member of the MERETZ delegation from the States, and essentially he was here to make peace between Israel and its neighbor.

        Now, normally, I don’t engage too deeply with people on the complete opposite side of the political spectrum. And before you yell at me, hear me out. I am right- wing. Quite. Duh. I’m not really that middle- of- the- road, nor are my opinions “developing” or “fluid.” I also like people and want them to like me. And one way to ensure someone won’t like me is to have a screaming match with them about politics. And therefore, I try not to engage to the point where this might occur.

        Back to Lenny. He said he was here with Meretz. I kept my eyes from rolling straight back into my skull, because I’m an adult. Then Lenny said, “well, we’re both Zionists, so we can build on that!” I paused. I asked him, “Does Meretz really consider itself Zionist?” He responded affirmatively and I realized that, like their religious observance, generally people think that their Zionism is the correct way to do Zionism. So that was a good starting point.

         Throughout the ride we found lots to agree on- the miracle of Israel, the fact that academia has become an impossible place to be a Zionist, the incredible people who live here, the shameful lack of assistance for some olim that causes them to leave.

          We disagreed on more. The African refugee/migrant problem (semantics play an issue). Changing demographics- he believes Jews will soon lose their demographic majority, I don’t. We were on the same page about BDS until he told me he won’t buy from “the Settlements.” I told him to please change “settlements” to “Jews” and be aware that he is boycotting Jews. Boycotting Jews like the Germans did in the ‘30s. Then he said his father was a survivor and we just agreed on a lot of Holocaust stuff for a bit and got back on track.

           He tried to make me believe that the conflict was about land, while I think it’s religious. I begged him to please not equate Bibi with Abbas (Meretz despises no one on earth more than Bibi, I learned. His name came up many times, as he is apparently the root of all evil in this country. Who knew?)

          At one point I tried to turn around and get back to my 12 waiting games of Words With Friends. Lenny kept the conversation going. And I realized this. Lenny is an idealist, I am a realist (although he’d say he’s a realist and I’m a pessimist.) He genuinely wants everyone to be happy and content here and I worry mostly about the Jews in Israel and our safety and well-being. He believes we have peace partners (it’s not his fault, I’m certain Palestinian reps are telling Meretz reps whatever they want to hear) and I think that’s just a fantasy.

          So much of what divides us is our vocabulary. Lenny always called them “settlers” and I call them “citizens.” Lenny only calls Judea and Samaria “the West Bank.” Lenny talked about the “hilltop youth”- a not large group of nationalists who have become a bogeyman and a convenient parallel for Muslim terrorists. Lenny called the Africans “refugees” while they have also been referred to as “migrants.” We come from such different places- he in secular American left- wing academia, me in Modern Orthodox right- wing Israel advocacy. 

But at the end of our trip, we talked about what we agreed upon- a strong, safe, Jewish Home for us all. We shook hands, wished each other well and I can only assume he’s writing a blog post about me as we speak!

           Good luck with everything, Lenny, and keep fighting the good fight!

The Five Stages of Dealing with Anti-Israel Social Media

If you're anything like me, you've gotten sucked into the news lately, and if you're pro-Israel, it can be a maddening ride, especially on social media. So like any other grief- like situation, let's get through these 5 steps, and come out the other side.

DENIAL: “Who are all these people on the internet calling my beautiful, kind and brave country everything from murderers to Nazis? Can’t be! They don’t know what they’re saying! If they only knew! They don’t mean it! It’s the optics- as soon as they hear the other side, they’ll understand!”

ANGER- “THESE VILE ANTI- SEMITES! How dare they?! Who do they think they ARE? What would THEY DO if someone ran at them with a machete?? Et tu BETTE MIDLER?? CHELSEA EFFING HANDLER SHUT THE EFF UP!”


BARGAINING- “We’ve sent aid to Haiti! We sent provisions to Gaza- that they destroyed! We tried rubber bullets, tear gas and threats to the rioters, but still they come! This is Hamas- Hamas are terrorists! We’ve made so many concessions! Oslo! Gush Katif! CHERRY TOMATOES!”



DEPRESSION: “I can’t do it. I can’t handle everyone hating me. Maybe if I apologize more, maybe if I capitulate more. I can’t handle the back and forth- “liking” pro- Israel posts and angrily fighting the trolls. So many anti-Israel trolls! Where do they come from and why don’t they like us? Why can't they see?"




ACCEPTANCE: “Wait a second. This wave of hatred also happened in 2012. And 2014. This happens every single time Israel has had the nerve to defend its people. And the haters will always hate, no matter what we say, or how many times, or however eloquently or loudly or calmly. So you know what? I’m gonna shut off Facebook, call my friend Dudu, fire up my electric scooter and go get a falafel while listening to Netta! Yalla BYE!”

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!

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