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!

           

Enough is Most Definitely Enough

      Hello readers! Thanks for stopping by. This post is going to talk about some hard truths, so if you are the type of person who wants to debate murders in Israel based on where they occurred, please stop reading. If you want to explain to me the pathological and psychological reasons that would justify this murder, please stop reading. If you want to equate this murder with unsolved "Jewish extremism" cases and "price tag" graffiti, please stop reading. If you want to just forget about this terror, see how we can build bridges and move forward as soon as possible, please stop reading. If you are choosing to blame this on Bibi, or settlements, or poverty in Gaza, or recent incitement or anything except a culture that, since its inception, has sought to raise, train and glorify murderers of Jews, please stop reading. And none of this is because I think you are a bad person, or unworthy of reading. It is because my words and my anger and my anguish will be so outside your realm of comprehension, I fear you will gain nothing from them.

        For everyone else, scream with me. Raise your streaming eyes to the sky with me and pray as hard as you can for G-d to protect our holy brothers and sisters. Place your well-earned fury where it needs to be- at a people and an ideology that do not care that you are a mother, or that you live in Otniel versus Tel Aviv. They do not care if you are 80 years old, shuffling along with a walker. They do not care if you shirked the draft, or if you have served in the IDF for 20 years. They do not blink at the sight of your crying baby in the backseat or shrink at the possibility of having their "holy work" cut short by many armed civilians nearby. And sure, they are being incited, but this is not new. This is not some new wave of hatred that has suddenly and recently grabbed hold of the Palestinian population. This is what they have been raised to believe in 2016, but also in 1995, 1968 and 1925. 

         If you are reading this, you understand all this. You, like me, are at a loss for what to do. How do we keep our people safe and cut off the threat? How do we fight this unwinnable social media battle against a world that sees us as the oppressors and our murderers as the underdog? How do we cut through the divisions that live in our own camp, where so many well-meaning Israel- supporters still erroneously blame our struggles on "the West Bank?" How do we explain to them that they need to change their terminology, their mindsets; to realize that Jews have valid, ancestral, real, indigenous rights to all of Israel, including Judea and Samaria?

         Seems you can't use the word "indigenous" these days in some circles without mentioning super-Zionist, and indigenous-rights activist, Ryan Bellerose. As a Metis Indian, Ryan speaks out tirelessly to try and teach Jews how our struggle for our homeland is one of an indigenous people returning to their rightful home, not some colonialist enterprise for a safe space after the Holocaust. One of the things I like about him is that he speaks his mind, without editing, and people respond. As right- wing as you think I am, I could be a lot more so, and I definitely temper my words depending on the company around me. Ryan doesn't. I'm pretty jealous. He's here in Israel this month, touring and lecturing and hanging out, and I was lucky enough to meet him in one of his rare breaks in action. Meeting him was weird- I get a lot of friend requests on Facebook from fellow active Zionists, but I generally don't accept if I don't know them. My mom instructed me to accept Ryan, and in the time since, I've found myself nodding my head and "liking" much of his words of "politically incorrect" wisdom. 

I am not this tiny. Ryan is just bear-sized.

        I asked him 3 questions: Why are Jews right in thinking this land is ours? Why are we so scared to say that out loud? And finally, what can we do to argue our case more convincingly? His basic premise, on one leg, is this: The Jewish claim to the land of Israel (and the whole land, by the way!) is irrefutable. It is archaeological, it is linguistic, and cultural. Our claim is everywhere in the country, under the ground and permeating every tree in the forest and rock in the desert. We are scared to assert this right because our mentality is one of the Jew who still desperately wants to be thought of as "the white European" otherwise known as the apex of civilized society. We have, throughout our tenure in the diaspora, strived to ingratiate ourselves into that genteel society, to "pass" in a community that always rejected us. I nodded along as he explained that we are still doing that, and that Jews who apologize for Israel constantly, whether outspokenly (like in JVP or JStreet) or even more passively, are trying their hardest to maintain their seat at the "white European" (or American, or Canadian) table. He suggests to fix this, we as Jews need to "de-colonize." He explained we need to "see yourselves through a Jewish lens and stop identifying ourselves through a white-European lens." Whoa. 

          I feel comforted by these words. Having never doubted the Jews claims to the Land of Israel and always fought against those who would marginalize us realists who have found "land for peace" a ridiculous notion, Ryan's words resonate. They resonate more so because as a non-Jew, he is able to tap into a population that will take everything I say with a grain of salt. For everyone who dismisses me as some brainwashed, modern Orthodox, Bnei Akiva-type, crazy right-winger, Ryan is none of those things. And if both of us can come to the same exact conclusion, I welcome him and thank him for his contributions to our fight.

         As I write this, there has been another attack in "the settlements." A pregnant woman has been stabbed by a terrorist who was shot in the chase as he ran away. Reports are the woman almost lost her baby. Thoughts I had? I'm glad the murderer was killed and not taken to an Israeli hospital for treatment by a Jewish doctor. I don't care if they name 100 streets after him, it just shows the world their depravity. I wish a checkpoint had been there to stop him. I wish we could employ only Jewish labor, at least until we see real changes and can ensure our safety. I wish this attack wasn't just one of so many, destined to get lost in the shuffle. I wish this would stop occurring in "the settlements" which will no doubt cheapen her blood and breed excuses. I hope this is  the attack that turns leftists into crazy right wingers like me. I hope we can all finally band together, no matter our ideology, and work toward a better future for the Jews in this country. There will be other times to talk about "coexistence" and "meeting in the middle." More silly conversation about "2- state solutions" and "finding the Muslim moderates." There will be more time for daydreams in the future. But for me, that time is not right now.

         Now is the time to stand up for your Jewish brothers and to pray for your soldiers and policemen. Now is the time to stand shoulder to shoulder with the "settlers" because they're not different, and we're all hurting. Now is the time to pray for every victim of terror, just as peace-loving and kind-hearted as anyone else you know. And now is the time to be strong, to not be afraid. To be vigilant, but not become a shut-in. Now is the time to wave your flag, stand on your rooftop (proverbially or literally) and scream "Am Yisrael Chai- The nation of Israel lives!" We are here, we deserve to be here, and we are not going anywhere.

Fear and Loathing in Jerusalem

        "Jordana, I really want to come to visit Jerusalem tomorrow, but is it safe?" If I had a dollar for every time I've been asked some variation of that question in the past four months or so, I'd be a millionaire! Well, not exactly- but I could afford a really nice meal. It is a bizarre question for me at first, because they are essentially asking if the place I live- where I work, shop, socialize and walk around- is dangerous for them to visit. You know, because of the terrorist stabbings that have been happening with nauseating regularity in our holy city. 

         But I get it. If all I kept hearing was "stabbing in central Jerusalem...car ramming in Jerusalem.... thwarted stabbing attempt in Jerusalem..."on the news all day, I'd probably be a bit freaked out too. I mean, how do we even live? The answer is the same well-trod answer Jerusalemites have been giving for the past who-knows-how-many years, "Life goes on." Sure, you pause every time you hear about some new attack, you frantically search the internet for information, you discuss it with your friends and co-workers. But inevitably, you will realize that you're out of milk, that the bank is closing soon or that the light rail train in 3 minutes away, and you will return to your regularly scheduled life, a bit tenser, but in astonishingly short turnaround time.

It does get a little sticky when there is nowhere in your daily routine that hasn't been targeted. The shuk, where I have spent countless daytime hours picking out fruits and vegetables and evening hours having drinks with friends? Yep, two women with scissors started stabbing people there. The Central bus station, my main hub for getting out of or back into the city, several times weekly? It's been targeted a number of times. Countless bus stops, bustling city corners and road junctions that I would recognize anywhere- suddenly flashed across TV screens as the site of the most recent attack against my Jewish brothers and sisters, my brave and beloved policemen and soldiers. And while the armed populace has become more vigilant, more adept at neutralizing and killing the terrorists quicker, it bizarrely hasn't stopped the attacks from occurring.

         People are most scared of the Old City, and that breaks my heart. The area of Jerusalem where all visitors yearn to come and spend time and pray is now one of the areas they are most scared to visit. For months I would calm friends and say "Take Shaar Yafo/Jaffa Gate.It's all tourists and nothing has happened there." And then something happened there. And now I don't know what to say to friends. Because I am not in their shoes, looking in from the outside. Would I still go to the Old City through Jaffa Gate? Yes, and it's definitely not because I'm so brave. It is because of this.

         As hard as it is, I can not be scared of my city. I can keep my hands on my pepper spray, I can avoid suspicious-looking passersby (yes, through profiling- not sorry!) and I can be aware of my surroundings. But I can not be scared of my city. I can warn others of where to go and where not to go, I can give suggestions of routes or streets to take or avoid. But I can not be scared of my city. I can follow the news one day and shut it all out the next, to stay sane. But I can not be scared of my city.

        My city isn't like Tel Aviv or Haifa, or Beit Shemesh or even Tzfat. My city is the capital of Israel and the eternal capital of the Jewish homeland. It represents so much more to me and the Jewish people than anywhere else. We have cried, prayed for and bled for Jerusalem. I personally moved across the world, all alone, in order to live in Jerusalem. So I can not be scared of my city. And I hope you will come here and join me in my city- in our city- and we will not be afraid.

Tales from a Holding Cell

            I am writing this from Dublin, Ireland, where I am supposed to be. I planned a vacation with my friend Jess months ago. I was coming from Israel via London and she was coming from Madrid. I was going to spend a day in London, doing an abridged sightseeing trip, alone, and I was stoked. One of the great things about living in Israel is that plane rides to Europe are closer and more affordable. An obstacle to this is that now that I live in Israel, I work longer hours and make less money than I did in NYC. So you can imagine how this impacts my grand travel plans. But I finally got myself together and booked a trip: Tel Aviv to London, a day and a half there, London to Dublin Friday morning and a nice Irish mini break until Tuesday. So exciting!
         I wrote my usual checklist, packed up and went to spend the day in Tel Aviv with visiting American friends and to be close to the airport. I got there with plenty of time to spare. If I may just kvetch for a second. I flew an airline called Easyjet. For those familiar, you are cringing right now. For those unfamiliar, think European Spirit Air. Now you're cringing- okay, we're all on the same page. So I'm in the airport and I take out my Teudat Maavar- or temporary Israeli passport, as my permanent one hasn't been issued yet (and this one is valid for 3 years) and my American passport case. Only- there is no American passport in that case. It is empty, save 5 million ticket stubs from various other plane rides. Crap. I ask the security guy if it's okay that all I have is my temporary passport- he says "yep!"and I got through. Sidebar- Easyjet has security in Terminal 1. But you do not leave from Terminal 1. You have to take a shuttle back to main Terminal 3 and leave from there. Why? Why is this normal? Because- Israel. But I digress.
         So I realize I don't have my passport and tell the deal to the waiting ticket agent. He seems to not have a problem with this whatsoever, nor do the 2 other security/border agents I meet after him. I go on through to my flight feeling like my worries are over. After what can only be described as a rough flight over, I head over to UK Customs, get my Teudat Maavar stamped and head to my waiting friend in Golder's Green. Then, a border policeman comes running after me and tells me to come with him. A wave of dread washes over me. He tells me that my Teudat Maavar is not a passport and requires a visa in addition. I tell him it says right on the cover "In lieu of a passport"and that he can call the US embassy or Israel or whomever to clear this all up. He makes me wait for about an hour while he confers with his boss "Google"over who is correct. At some point, it dawns on me that the next course of action is deportation and I start to cry. Well, more like convulsively heave-cry for an hour and a half. The agent who initially stamped me through is playing defense attorney and a burly, surly woman is clearly playing prosecution. I start thinking about my weekend coming to an abrupt (and expensive) end. How will I eat the cost of flights, hotels and entertainment? How can I mess up Jess'plans? What about this vacation I have been planning for months? Gone in an instant- just because of negligence/stupidity/a distrust of Israeli documentation?! 

My Nemesis

                So the verdict comes down and I am to be sent on the first flight out the next morning. Immediately, the wheels start turning. I am thinking about how long it will take me to get back, if I can get another flight to London in time to make my flight to Dublin, what the costs will be, if my passport is still in my possession. I'm texting Jess, trying not to freak her out, wondering if she can tell how out of my mind with stress I am. I am taken by the border police into a back area, fingerprinted and my photo is taken. I am interviewed, offered food and water and interviewed again. I am given forms explaining why I'm being detained and all my money is counted and my baggage searched. I am given a room to sleep in, but my possession are taken away for the night. I wish I could say I am exaggerating any of this, but this is what happens when you forget your American passport in London. Oh, and my bed/futon? There is a camera trained on it, so Robert, my friend and warden gets to watch me as I sleep. Let me be fair. Everyone was very nice. They just saw a small, red-eyed, shaking quiet (just kidding- it was me) little girl and they definitely felt for me. But- well- it sucked. It was demoralizing and I truly felt it was over-the-top. The only saving grace was that apparently this happens to 5-6 people per day. So there are other morons out there, and that made me happy. 

I illegally took this photo- how good do I look for an illegal alien, though?

              Another thing that calmed me was the fact that had this happened on the way to Dublin as opposed to London, I could have been detained over shabbat. And that would have been a disaster. Okay, so I'm on the first flight back to Israel at 7 am and am escorted by my guards directly to the plane door. I asked if I was going to be handcuffed and the guy laughed and said normally yes but he wouldn't. I turned white(r). I got on to my next luxurious Easyjet flight and takeoff was scheduled for 7. Except a woman refused to fly and the entire plane had to be stopped, rechecked and get back on the departure line. It might have had to do with our co-passengers.

Hey, Ladies!

             Oh, stop it- I'm not a racist, I'm a realist-get over yourselves. Then, the Israeli couple with the baby behind me started getting squeamish and tried to delay the plane yet again. At this point, decorum was out the window and I said "Äre you even serious right now?"They decided to stay and off we went. After the uneventful flight, I was welcomed back to Israel and thought how to best get back to Jerusalem. I tried the bus route, which is super- annoying, requires 2 buses and a light-rail and found myself racing up my stairs to see my passport sitting calmly and blithely in my dresser drawer, Grrr. I got online, fired up good old easyjet,com and booked the same exact flight I had taken the day before, albeit about 150 bucks more expensive. I raced outside and hailed the first cab I saw, he quoted me some astronomical price and off we went to Ben Gurion.
              Back to Terminal 1. Back through security.Back on the shuttle to Terminal 3. Back onto another low-rent Easyjet flight. Back to good ol' Luton Airport. Back to Border Patrol. And back to my former nemesis, and now best friend forever, Border Policeman, who stamped my passport, gave me a hug, and wished me a good trip. I asked him if he expected to see me back and he said you seemed quite determined. I'm not all that surprised."And we laughed together like best friends do.
              You might think that's all. All that's left is to get from Luton to London City Airport, and to my 7 AM flight to Dublin. And I had 7 hours to make that happen. So I take my bag out to the transportation kiosk, planning the best route, when a bearded Jew stops and asks if I need a ride to Golder's Green or Hendon (2 religious areas). I told him my plans and that I would just probably sleep on the floor for a bit before my flight at London City. He asked if it was even open. I didn't 
understand the question. As a frequent flyer in JFK and Ben Gurion, I was unaware that some airports closed. But he was right! Apparently London City is closed from 10pm-5am! Luckily, this man offered to take me to his house, let me sleep a bit and call me a cab to take me to the airport at 5am. Would you like to guess what kind of man he was- aside from angel? He was Lubavich! Oh savior of many a lost and stranded Jew, this Rabbi Junik and his amazing wife Goldie, took me in, gave me food, packed me lunch, gave me a warm bed and called my cab for me. And the craziest part was that had Rabbi Junik not been delayed for the first time in 20 years, he wouldn't have even seen me stranded! In Jewish terms, we call this"hashgacha pratit"or "Divine Intervention"- although you might see it as an excellent coincidence!

            My cabdriver to the airport and I had a lovely chat (if you know me, no surprise) and after a 30 minute political discussion about what to do with the situation in Israel, I come to find out that he's Jewish too! So I gave him my number and begged him to come see me if he ever made his way "home."Then I took one last quick and uneventful flight to Dublin and here I am, waiting for shabbat in this tiny but welcoming community. This was certainly a trip I will never forget, and it hasn't even quite started! But all's well that ends well, and it was great for the blog- so thanks for reading and I'll see you when I get back to the Holy Land!

Regards from Dublin!

        

The Jew Stands Alone

           All we can think about these days is the terror.The terror we thought had abated, but in reality, took a nap and then hit us in a truly intense and personal way. A beautiful boy, Ezra Schwartz,  just 18 and spending his "year in Israel" as me and all my friends had done, was murdered by a Palestinian terrorist with an Uzi, while on his way back from giving food to lone soldiers. You really couldn't have scripted a more tragic end to such a special life. Even in a country and a time where these attacks have become somewhat expected and eerily commonplace, this loss hit me hard. I couldn't sleep or eat, and I found myself voraciously looking for information and photos and video of this kid I never knew, but felt like I personally lost. And I think we all did here in Israel, most especially the American-olim community. I thought of how I myself was "an American tourist in Israel" maybe 50 times on various Birthright and vacation trips. I spent the year here in seminary. When I was that age, I had no doubt whatsoever that once my year was up, I'd move back to New York and live a safe and happy Jewish life in America. Things change and I thank G-d I was bitten by the aliyah bug eventually, but my life mirrored Ezra's really closely at that point in my life. I was exactly what he was- an "American Jewish tourist in Israel." I thought of his friends and the other kids in his gap year, who must all be understandably afraid. About his parents and family, who did the most normal thing Orthodox American parents can do- send their kid to Israel for the year. I thought about his community, who could never fathom that tragedy would hit them from so far away.
           In the flood of articles to come out in the aftermath, one stood out to me as a new immigrant. It's common knowledge that this murder has been widely publicized in Israeli and Jewish media, but almost not at all in European and American media. As with many Jewish murders by terrorism in Israel, the world yawns. But the author of this article was truly disheartened by the fact that this American Jew, without the stain of Israeli citizenship, much less a (cringe) "settler" was being ignored by most of the American media and the president of the United States. She didn't understand how American citizens killed in recent terror attacks in France and Mali received so much more media attention. She lamented the idea that, G-d forbid, if it was her or her family member who suffered the same fate, she would be equally abandoned by the country she loved and lived in for so many years. She rightly understood that as an American Jew who left to live in Israel, any tragedy that befell her here in Israel would be even less worthy of mention in the country where she is still a citizen.
             To say nothing of my disdain for the current American president (and trust me, after over 7 years, I have what to say), it struck me how my personal viewpoint differed so greatly from the writer of this article. First, the lack of media attention didn't surprise me, nor did the near-radio silence and lack of condemnation from the State Department. I have come to expect exactly this from the world we live in, and much more tragically, from the country where I grew up and still appreciate tremendously. I chose to focus on the local papers in Boston who wrote beautiful tributes, and the senators and representatives on both sides of the aisle who remembered Ezra publicly. I had gratitude to the select (and to be fair, mostly conservative) national media who did mention Ezra's loss and the Jewish community's outpouring of support. But call me jaded, I'm just not surprised anymore, nor am I particularly upset.
            When articles about murdered Jews come with rationalizations and equivocations, it's a real blow. When the State Department or president mentions a Jewish death in Israel and follows it with calls for "restraint on all sides," it negates all that came before it. When anti-Semites on social media use your tragedy as fodder for their own agenda, you can't help but wish they didn't know about it at all. And when you have to doubt the country that you pledged allegiance to for twelve years, doubt their allegiance to you, it's really an awful feeling.
            I don't know when it happened, and it definitely hasn't always been this way, but I have come to the realization that at the end of the day, the Israeli and world Jewish communities are the only ones who will love, honor and respect me no matter what. As we have seen with Ezra, all victims of Palestinian terror, and Jewish victims of terror around the world, we are our own champions. We are the ones who will remember us, the ones who will memorialize us. We are the ones who will pray for us and the ones who will let the world know what we lost. We are the only ones who will fight for our rights and our homeland. And while I am forever grateful to our allies in the world- the Christians and the Muslims and the atheists and the Buddhists who care about us and our safety- we, the Jewish nation, are our one steadfast support system. Throughout our history, we have had countless enemies, with no one to turn to, no one to defend us. We have had ourselves and only ourselves through the millenia, and now is no different. I know a lot of you will read this and think "What a stupid girl. I am a proud American/Parisian/Brit/Aussie Jew. I have plenty of friends who would stand for me, defend me." And I have no doubt that they would. I, too, have friends who love me, love the Jewish people, even love Israel. But you know what? The only support I need in this world is that of my fellow Jews. I know that if I have that then the fickle affections of Europe or the United States won't affect me. That if, G-d forbid, anything happens to me, or someone I love, I won't have to live with the anguish of feeling deserted by the country where I was born. I know that this country, my country, my government and my people will embrace me, support me and love me like I love them. Because we are one family and that is what family does.
               I know I say this a lot, but I always mean it- The Nation of Israel Lives- with each other and for each other. Am Yisrael Chai.