Korach

The Big Hug

Hey Folks, I know it's been awhile, but things have been pretty busy here.  A couple of weeks ago my mom came to visit and to see Tali's play.  I figured that she could take a different kid out of school each day and do something fun with them.  That way the kids would get special time and not miss too much school, and I could keep working.  That worked will for two days, until Rivtal and Abaye came down with pneumonia.  Then my mom stayed home every day playing Beatles monopoly (among other things) with sick kids.  After a week of the kids not getting better with their antibiotics, we spent the morning of Yom HaAtzmaut (Independence Day) in the ER.  Which I have to say, was the best time to be there.  It's like going in America at 7:00 AM Christmas morning.  It was like a ghost town.  Though it was crowded compared to the rest of the city, which was literally a ghost town.  The only thing open in the whole entire city of Afula was the pharmacy.  OK, not entirely true.  I did manage to find one open restaurant, from which we got take out.  But not the sushi restaurant we were hoping for (which we've never been to and happens to be located right next to the pharmacy...).   Did I mention that Ross went to America two days after my mom arrived?  He got back this morning.  (Yay!)  And in more good news, he came bearing this new macbook I am typing on (can you tell?).  It's taking some getting used to, and it has a few really annoying drawbacks (like that it isn't compatible with the program my school uses for grading-- and they assured me on the phone that they are compatible with all PC stuff), but on the plus side, when you download an attachment, it flies down to the bottom of the screen, and then it starts jumping up and down like it's shouting "Pick me!  Pick me!" But now for some highlights:  Before all the sickness started, my mom took Adin to the kangaroo park, which is right next to where we live but we still haven't been.  Later in the week, when I finally had to stay home with the sickies, my mom took Shmuel to Jerusalem one day.  They were supposed to go to the tunnel tours (tunnels under the Western Wall with excavations-- which we keep trying to do, but something always goes wrong.  I've never seen them.  Though we manage to keep them in business by purchasing tickets from them and then never showing up...).  Instead, they got lost in the Arab quarter.  They called to tell me that they had no idea where they were and all the signs were in Arabic and no one seemed to be able to point them in the direction of the Western Wall.  They said they were going to trace back their steps, see the one museum they had passed, and head back to the car to buy bagels (a rare treat for us).  Amazingly, though, they came out of there, made their way to the Jewish Quarter, and then found themselves right in front of Shmuel's old school from when he was in 1st grade!  And it was recess time, and all his friends were outside playing!! Everyone was so excited to see him!! In other news, Beni (the radio guy-- remember him?) just crossed the halfway mark in his attempt to get all of the members of Knesset to participate in a group hug.  Yesterday was the first day he had on a Knesset member I've actually heard of-- Amir Peretz, a major leader in the Labor Party.  He tipped the number to 61 (of 120) who agree to participate in the hug.  He pointed out to Beni that it's not an easy thing to get a majority in the Knesset.  But Beni still has twenty more people to speak to, and several who have refused or are undecided.  Today he brought on one of the undecided guys who was ready to make a decision.  The guy started by going on and on about what a worthy and beautiful idea it is.  He then said that unfortunately he can't participate because there are members of Knesset who are against the state of Israel and who support violence against Israelis, and it would be disingenuous for him to participate in a hug with them.  Beni suggested that  he will continue to try to convince him to change his mind, and the guy said, well, we'll see who you've got.  Maybe if all his enemies aren't participating either, then he could join.  Beni said that's not the idea.  Beni plans to go through with the hug even if everyone doesn't join, so we'll see what happens.  He mentioned today that he has yet to speak with the prime minister, the secretary of defense, the foreign minister, and the head of the opposition, so things could still get quite interesting.  Peretz concluded his interview by saying that he hopes we will see the day soon when we can all hug each other, and have nothing better to do than to listen every day to people trying to guess what Beni is singing quietly in his head.... What else?  Hmmm.... Well, the water is back on all the pools at Sachne!  And I went for a swim for the first time in ages yesterday.  It was amazing.  I had the place almost entirely to myself.  And I could tell that the fish really missed me.  They were waiting with particular eagerness to get a taste of my feet.... Back to Yom HaAtzmaut, if I look past all the fevers and coughing, the day was unbelievable.  The programming they organized on the kibbutz was, I thought, more spectacular than any program we could have travelledl to participate in.  Everyone gathered outside in the main courtyard at the start of sunset.  Several people spoke briefly about a place that is vary meaningful to them, and in between speakers there were singers and dancers and all kinds of performances, including Adin's gan singing the most fabulous song (Shir HaEmek), and he performed it with such gusto!  The ceremony concluded with the traditional flag dancing ceremony, which Shmuel participated in beautifully.   After the ceremony, people went up to the synagogue for a festive Hallel prayer, complete with instruments and drumming.  I didn't go because I was watching Adin outside, but you could hear the music from all around.  My mom and Abaye went back to the house to take it easy and play, you guessed it, Beatles monopoly.   AFTER the prayers, there was dancing, followed at NINE THIRTY by a dinner.  At the dinner they played a big game of name that tune (which I would have loved if it were rock from the 70s and 80s, but unfortunately I really don't know most of the Israeli music...).  Abaye was coughing like crazy, so we went home "early" (11:00?) and went to bed.  The next day was when the nurse said I should take the kids to the ER.  I figured afterwards maybe we could pick up a special lunch.  My mom was flying out that night.  But that's when we discovered that all the restaurants were closed, and that there was absolutely nothing to do in the entire country except have campfires and roast meat.  In fact, on the radio they announced several public parks that were not admitting anyone new because they were already overcrowded.  Next year we are definitely finding friends to make a fire with!! I should say something about my new job, but it is late and I am tired and this is already getting long.  Sufficeth to say that I am finding it challenging, but I am working hard, and things may be getting better.  I will tell you after it is over and I can look back and just remember the good stuff.  It's just as well, since I went to  a meeting in Haifa where I was "interviewed" by all sorts of Education officials, to be told that I would not be able to teach here without another two years of school.  The good news, they said, is that they are accepting me into a free program of study.  But I don't know that I am up for that.  He didn't even look at my experience of my recommendations (which I worked tirelessly to collect).  He looked at my education (and most of my formal training is in Social Work, and he wasn't remotely interested in my certificate of Jewish Education, because "Jewish Education is not a subject here.")  So that was fruitful.   BTW, I would never in a billion years have found the meeting if it weren't for the fact that I borrowed my mom's GPS.  And while I was there, I took advantage and went to the Motor Vehicle Bureau, which I have putting off for a a long time for fear of getting lost in Haifa.  So that's great news.  It means that soon I will start my driving lessons, followed (please G-d) by my test, so stay tuned for some good stories there!!  (unless I have to sell my new computer to pay for all the lessons the guy will make me take...) But did I mention that it is late and I am tired and this is long?  I think I did.  So off I go.  I know there is lots I'm forgetting, but maybe I'll write again soon. Until then, good night (or whatever it is where you are...) Em

Seeing The World

One of the hardest parts of my job is the travel.  I miss the family and the trips can be exhausting.  At the same time, the travel is one of the best parts of the job.  First of all I love that on planes you get to watch movies, they bring you food, and clean up after you.  Second of all, I get the best of two worlds.  I live in the land of Israel in a wonderful community on a breathtaking mountaintop, AND I get to travel all over and see old friends, special people, and interesting places.  This last trip was great.  I saw friends from New York, Baltimore, Vancouver, Houston, and Winnipeg.  Yet, perhaps the most outstanding visit this trip was to Amsterdam.  When I was 12 years old, my family moved for the year to Holland and despite my protestations, we had an amazing experience.  After a 30 year hiatus, I just returned.  I flew KLM/Delta to the states and returning to Israel.  On the return flight I had a stop over of 10 hours in Amsterdam. Good friends of our family, Hans and Hetti Poortvliet  picked me up at the airport and gave me a wonderful day.

Hans and Hetti

My mother just reminded me about how we met them.   In our neighborhood in Amstelveen, we had an SRVman.  This was a man that drove a Winnebago converted into a mobile seven eleven!  He would drive around the neighborhood(s) and if we needed some milk or bread or some other staple (unfortunately he didn't have slurpees) my Mom would send me out to buy it from the SRVman when he drove by.  On one of my visits to the SRV van a neighbor delivered an invitation to our family to join her for coffee in her home.  That woman was Hetti Poortvliet and that invitation led to a wonderful friendship.  Years later, the Poortvliets visited my family in Houston.  Anyway, when I saw that my itinerary included such a long stop over in Amsterdam, I called the Poortvliets and made a date to meet with them.  They met me at the airport and we went back to their apartment for coffee.  Hetti did some research and found a Kosher restaurant and so I had a delicious glatt Kosher lunch.  Hetti and Hans ordered in Dutch and I ordered in Hebrew!!  From there we went downtown and visited the Portuguese synagogue.  It was really amazing!

Portuguese Synagogue from the Outside

I forgot my Tefillin in Houston and had been borrowing Tefilin since.  I was nervous that I wouldn't find a pair to use in Amsterdam.  Fortunately, the Israeli at the entrance booth had a pair for me to use and I davened Minchah at this historic site.  It was quite moving.

Outside the synagogue, Hetti pointed out to me the statue of "The Dockworker" commemorating the so-called February Strike.  It was the first major protest from the Dutch against what was happening in their country under Nazi occupation. Anti-Semitic measures were being passed and an atmosphere of terror was being created. The strike was called in reaction to German round-ups of Jews that took place in Amsterdam on 22 and 23 February 1941. On those two days 425 young Jewish men were arrested, and sent to the concentration camp at Mauthausen, where almost all of them died. 

The round-ups were in part a Nazi reprisal for what had just happened in an ice-cream parlour in Amsterdam. The shop was run by two German-Jewish refugees, named Cahn and Kohn. The Nazi police, the Grüne Polizei, raided Koco's ice-cream parlour and were greeted with ammonia sprayed at them. The strike was organized by the underground Dutch Communist Party. The party, later known as the CPN, wrote the famous manifesto calling upon the Dutch to 'Strike, strike, strike!' which was circulated among many Amsterdam businesses early on the morning of 25 February. Throughout the city, firms went on strike: public transport, municipal work, shipbuilding and the metal industries in North Amsterdam, all came to a standstill. Large department stores, like De Bijenkorf on Dam Square, remained closed for business. The next day the strike spread to neighbouring towns and centres. The Nazi occupiers broke the strike with harsh measures. A remembrance of the strike is observed in Amsterdam on 25 February each year in the square beside the statue of the Docker.

After leaving the synagogue, we proceeded over to the Jewish Museum.  There I saw many interesting artifacts.  However, in my new found position as fundraiser, what caught my eye was a very interesting ledger.  In order to keep track of pledges made on Shabbat when it is forbidden to keep a written record, the community produced a book that included the names of all community members with a series of peg holes on the page next to the names.  When an individual made a pledge, someone could place a peg in the whole next to his name corresponding to the amount of the pledge -- a kind of Shomer Shabbat method of passing around the plate!

Munttoren Tower

Next we began our walk back to catch a bus towards the Poortvliet's home from where they would take me to the airport.  I loved walking around in the city.  Hetti, who is a former tour guide, pointed out all kinds of interesting sites.  The important canals, the old churches, medieval towers, the Amstel River etc...  Besides the charm of the city which I had not sufficiently remembered, I was struck by the massive amount of cyclists.  It was really impressive.  On the drive back to the airport Hetti was already planning my next visit so that I could see all that I had missed!  I hope I do get to go back.

The Amstel River

So Many Bikes

How to treif your Seder

Hi again,
I still owe you an email about our McFelafel, but it involves pix and I can't find a cord that will hook my phone to the computer.  In the meantime, you'll have to settle for our very exciting seder adventures.
For those of you who have been paying attention, you will recall that we had a seder here, with our good friends the Wines and the Richters.  We were a total of 7 adults and 11 children.  Our friends from across the way lent us their apt for some of our friends to sleep, and the rest were here.  
Seder preparations were fun.  The kids were really eager to have a car door, which has been our tradition since Ross brought a car door back from the dump a few years ago, to display in our living room ("so that if we get hot in the desert we can roll down the window...").  We told them in no uncertain terms that we were not going to bring a car door into our little apt, but tradition is tradition, so Abaye made one out of this big spongy gray foam thing.  It was better than having the really thing!  (Literally!) 
Once in the past we had bought a pinata for  seder (to smash the idols...).  We decided we would do that this year again.  The problem was, we couldn't find one for sale anywhere.  So I thought I would make one.  Now, the traditional way to make a pinata would be to cook up a flour and water paste for paper mache.  But the thought of cooking this up as I was cleaning the house from chametz seemed most unattractive, not to mention the question of having dried chametz fall all over the floor when we broke the thing, so I found a recipe that involved a lo-ho-hot of glue (so much that I had to send Ross out a second time for 2 more huge bottles).  Two nights before the seder I stayed up late glueing strips of newspaper to a balloon, while listening to late night radio with a psychaitrist interviewing a famous musician about why he doesn't have any friends.  The next day, the thing was still wet with glue, and the newspaper was cracking off the balloon.  I looked on line and discovered that I was supposed to actually dilute the glue, and then dip the newspaper into it (unlike what the lady in the store told me).  I piled layers upon layers, and left it to dry, not feeling too confident.  The next day it was still wet on the inside, but very firm on the outside.  We baked it all day in the sun, and it came out perfectly.  Rivital designed it into an adorable snail (I was going for a lamb or something when I arranged the smaller and larger balloons together, but she was totally right that it looked like a snail...).  She also stuffed it with candy and toys in a way that, as she explained to everyone, made sure each kid would get an exact even amount of everything.  Which did not at all inhibit their ability to scream and fight and grab for the booty....
The story telling part of the seder was great.  The kids were all so excited to participate.  They had words of Torah to share on different things they had learned, and they even listened respectfully to each other.  The highlight of the afikomen hunt was when someone hid the afikomen in the actual matza bag.  That was totally unfair.  And brilliant....
Dinner was delicious.  The highlight was the matza ball soup.  People couldn't get over how much it tasted like real chicken soup.  They wanted to know my secret, and I said it had to do with the very diverse and plentiful veggies (augmented by a bit of soup powder).  The soup was followed by what has become our traditional eggplant parmesan and mashed potatoes.
The next day people were still talking about the soup, and the kids were begging me to make some for lunch.  The pot was full of cooked veggies, but there was hardly any broth, so I figured I would just add some more soup powder and water to replenish it.  I pulled out the powder and noticed for the first time that it said across the front in the most enormous letters ever, in a size you could have read from across a highway, "REAL CHICKEN SOUP POWDER."  Oops.  Thank G-d we were with friends!!  After we finished throwing away the soup and all our dishes and pumping our stomachs, we had a delicious lunch of creamy orange soup and spinach patties (ala Debby-- you know Debby and her spinach!) and quinoa and fish ala the Richters.  And it was all kosher, as far as I know. 
Okay, okay.  We didn't really pump our stomachs, and it turns out that most of the dishes ended up being either fine or kasherable.  IN the end, I think all we really lost was a ladel, and trust in our friend Emily.  OK, okay, just the ladel.  I guess everyone still trusted me since they ate here again the next day (well, what choice did they have, the suckers?) and the Richters are letting us bring food to them tomorrow (mwa ha ha...)  
[Don't worry Camille-- I am not making fish.]
So that was exciting, and we get a breather for the next couple of years, as we will go the the Richters and then the Wines for seder.  And they won't ask me to bring the soup....
Now a little vacation update:
The day after the seder (count 'em-- ONE seder), we all (Wines, Richters and us) went to Rosh Hanikra.  The original plan was to buy a group ticket to three sites in the area, but in the end it is quite miraculous that we managed the one.  Next year we will be following the lead of our friends the Slotnicks, kashering our house early, and doing our vacation BEFORE the holiday starts (In Israel you get a week off before Passover for cleaning, etc).  The Slotnicks were there the week before, breezing through everywhere.  We spent half the day waiting on line for Space Mountain.  Er.... Rosh Hanikra.  It felt the same while we were on line for over two hours.  The only difference is there were no helpful guides in Disney suits to keep people from cutting in line, and if I were there by myself I would still be waiting in line as everyone would be pushing past me.  
The line was for a cable car that took us down (eventually) to one of the most stunning natural sites.  You walk into tunnels, and see more tunnels that have been carved over the millenia by the combination of water and salt in the white and blue crashing waves, creating the most beautiful rock formations.  Unfortunately, seeing the site on Passover is not enough different than going to the Museum of Natural History on winter break, and being swept by the crowd from one exhibit behind a rope to another.   Roni, who is an amateur photographer, was enjoying the scenes and capturing them with her phone camera (which is unfortunately all she had with her).  For me, I think to personally really enjoy the site I would need time to be alone with the scenes, and surrounded by the sounds of the waves instead of the sounds of the tourists.  But the kids were enjoying running from scene to scene, and that definitely made it worth it.
Unfortunately, Ross wasn't feeling great, and he stayed back at the car, but when we were came out, he was starting to feel better,  We decided to try to find a place to eat in Neharia (not simple on Passover).
As we were driving into the city, we saw the ocean, and the kids starting begging to go into the water.  My kids were somewhat prepared with changes of clothes (just because I always try to travel with changes of clothes), and the other guys all had their whole weekend's luggage with them, including bedding, and even a couple of towels.  So we let the kids go in, and they had the most thrilling unadulterated fun-- the kind you can't plan for because a plan would have involved 11 kids arguing about what they want to do, but this was just the spontaneous exhiliration of doing something unplanned, that felt maybe even a little wrong (indeed, some parents tried to forbid the kids going in past their knees in their clothes, but in the end everyone was soaking wet anyway), and would be highly inconvenient for the grownups (getting everyone dried up and dressed for dinner)..  It was just awesome!
As the kids were drying off and changing, we were asking all passersby if anyone knew of a place to get a kosher for Passover dinner.  We wanted a "shipudia" (a place where you choose what kind of meet you want grilled on a skewer, served with millions of beautiful salads).  We were not having much luck with finding any restaurant at all, and some guys were going to go to the supermarket to find something they could put on matza, when somehow I found someone who gave us great directions to an actual shipudia!!!  When we got there, we told the waitress we were 15 (a few had dropped out and gone home), and she ushered us straight into the back, where we had an enormous party room to ourselves.  The little guys could run around like crazy without bothering anyone, and we could have a nice hot and unbelievable delicious meal. 
 Halfway through dinner, the waitress came out with little toy trumpets which she proceeded to hand out to all the kids.  The kids started blasting the trupets, as Roni and Ross looked at each other and said in unison "There goes her tip!", but in fact, the trupets blasts were ever worth it, and we tipped them the great tip they deserved for being exactly what we needed, and for being really amazing hosts
If you still have patience for a bit more, I'll add that the next day, just our family went to a small hike down to a waterfall in the Golan.  It was stunningly beautiful, perfectly challenging, and we were amazed by many things.  First of all, it was just amazing how many families were out hiking.  Second, I love the hiking culture here.  In stark contrast to our wait in line for Space Mountain Rosh Hanikra, here, when we got to the hard part of the hike, when you had to climb down a particularly steep part by holding onto handles that had been put into the rocks, the people formed a line and everyone waited patiently.  Someone took it upon himself at the bottom of the line to help little guys down, and at the top someone was offering a hand to help people up.  One guy tried to push ahead of the line, and everyone appropriately rebuked him as he took his place and waited in line with everyone else.
The other amazing thing was that EVERYONE was eating matza.  I mean EVERYONE.  That goes for Rosh Hanikra and the waterfall.  In fact, it was really interesting to watch people comparing the different things they had prepared special for Passover.  One guy had corn and chumus, and another guy had rice, and this started them all on a discussion of where they were from.  
There were yeshiva guys swimming and singing with their tzitzit flowing in the water, and there were women in bikinis (though not at the same time), and everyone was out hiking on Passover.  And everyone was eating matza.  So cool!
Tomorrow we are off to spend the last day with the Richters (and to reunite with Rivital, who went home with Adiel on Thursday).  Hopefully we'll find some fun thing to do on the way.  Stay tuned!
Happy Holiday!!!
Love,
Em  

Pesach Sameach

Hey gang, There are so many things I have been meaning to write about, and each one deserves its own entry.  I don't know how you anglos are feeling, but I was talking to someone in the playground on Shabbat, and she told me that she read my blog entry from Purim (I sent a link to it on the Maale Gilboa listserv because I thought people here might enjoy it).  She told me that she enjoyed it so much and that it was a great way for her to find out what happened here on Purim (they were away), as I really covered everything, but then she remarked that it was so long, and do people really read such long entries?  She is not at all a native English speaker, so I'm just going to chalk it up to that, and presume that I am not at all long-winded.... But even if I am long winded, I can't really do justice to this last week if I include the mundane things that happened before it, so I will try to come back to the saga of our electric grill and our adventures getting a "McFelafel" at McDonalds (complete with pix when I figure out how to add them). In the meantime, I want to tell you about what I learned about our kibbutz community through a heartbreaking tragedy and a most heartwarming celebration.  Our kibbutz is an unusual community, having been first a kibbutz, then privatizing, and than re-kibbutzifying in a way that it is still not clear to us exactly what makes it a kibbutz.  When we ask, we receive different responses from different people.  It is clearly more privatized that what is usually thought of as a kibbutz.  There is no dining hall.  Most people work off the kibbutz, and salaries are not pooled (there is some sort of taxing on salaries, but not the sort of thing where you have the same as everyone regardless of what you earn, and there are definitely no meetings about who can go to college and who can go on vacation.  In fact, most of the people who live here are not members!  We have friends who live as residents on another kibbutz who describe that there is some tension around people living there who are not becoming members, and therefore having different status and benefits, but we have never seen anything like that here.  In fact, it is hard to know who here are the members and who aren't, unless they tell you.  Everyone is invited to meetings to discuss and make decisions about the future of the community.  In fact, Ross was surprised when he discovered that the head of the membership committee has lived here for over a decade but is not a member!  The other day one of the kids complained that on kibbutz "everyone knows everything about everybody (which has not been my experience.  I don't even know everyone's name!).  But we saw the other side of that this week, when a baby of one of the families (who happens to not be "members") died in his crib. I heard the awful news when I was out for a walk.  As I was getting close to my return home, I was walking by the park where Shmuel and Abaye were having an activity with the kids house (Building benches out of mud).  As I approached, the kids came running up to me to ask what happened..  They didn't know, but they saw several ambulances and police cars pouring into the kibbutz, so of course they were concerned.  One of the mothers who knew what was going on told them that the news wasn't yet public, but tried to give them a sense of the nature of the tragedy, and assured them that it didn't affect any of them directly.  She saw their concern and agreed to sit with them until the news could be shared.  I decided to sit with them, and shortly after, she sat them all down and had a long talk about what had happened, She took all of their questions and then made sure everyone had a home to go to where there would be a grown up to be with them.  The news didn't affect any of those kids directly because the family only has younger kids, but it happened to be the baby brother of a good friend of Adin's.  We talked to Adin about what happened that night, and then they talked about it again at gan the next day, with the big brother.  Of course the kids took in what they could understand (Adin came home from gan insisting that he had to go over to the boys house to make his baby alive again).  Anyway, the whole week, a heavy sadness fell over the whole kibbutz.  The funeral was massive-- it seemed like everyone from the community was there, along with a lot of their extended family and friends.  We gathered for some words of eulogy (the grandfather spoke about how G-d seals the book of life on Yom Kippur, but clearly there had been some sort of a typo, because how could this baby have been inscribed to die?  SO heartbreaking...), and then we drove two minutes down the road to the tiny cemetery that serves our kibbutz and the kibbutz next to us.  I think there are fewer than 10 stones.  It was insanely windy and it was hard to hear what people were saying, but all around us, everyone was bawling.  Everyone seemed to be really present and focused on being with them.  When we returned to the kibbutz, the rabbi's wife immediately arranged for minyans, meals, and helpers (to clean and just be with the family around the clock).  I was asked to take Adin's friend home with us after gan the next day, but he didn't want to come.  He wanted to go home.  Since then, however, I have seen them (him and his little brother) around the kibbutz with lots of different friends and family.  A couple of days later, when the kibbutz made their own matza factory (which was just awesome!), the gan teacher had picked up the two boys, and brought them to bake matzas.  They seemed to have a great time. When Shabbat came, it had been almost a week since the tragedy.  In the meantime, a few days before, a baby had been born, and the bris was scheduled for right after Shabbat services.  The place was tense with the sadness of the one event and the joy of the other.  The baby's father was out of the house for probably the first time all week.  The rabbi who gave the d'var Torah spoke very briefly, and only about the recent events.  He talked about the difficulty of living in the tension of such sadness and such joy.  He talked mostly about the big hug and the love that we all are giving the grieving family (the dad was in shul).  He ended with saying there aren't words, but that we are there with them with love and with hugs.  After services, they began the bris.  Irregardless of recent events, it was by far the most moving bris I had ever attended.  Ross said exactly the same thing right afterward.  They brought this baby into the covenant with a endless string of songs and lullabyes.  People were singing and dancing, and again, a sea of tears.  Tears of joy, tears of sadness, and I am sure for many, like for me and Ross, sobs that gave voice to the powerful tension of the two. Shabbat afternoon I attended the woman's class, and still the sadness and the joy and the tension were first and foremost on everyone's mind.  The woman who taught the class (who happened to be the mom who sat with the kids that morning as they waited to hear the news), taught about a few interesting customs related to the seder and the hagaddah.  She ended by talking about the idea that everyone goes through what she called "their personal Exodus from Egypt."  Women shared how sometimes the most horrible events help to make us stronger, while sometimes the most irrelevant and mundane things can knock us down.  The teacher concluded with a beautiful poem about how everyone needs an "Egypt."  I can't possibly do it justice in my feeble attempt at a translation (if you can check it out in Hebrew, it's by Amnon Divek (?) and it's called "Everyone needs Egypt.", but towards the end it says something like Everyone needs some sort of Egypt To redeem himself from it, from the house of slavery To go out in the middle of the night to the desert of fears To march straight into the waters To see them open before him to the sides. Everyone needs a shoulder.... The reason I attempt to translate for you despite the inadequacy is because amazingly, just now I opened my email and found that the parents of the baby had just sent out an email thanking everyone for their help and support.  They said that they were overwhelmed and comforted by it, and that they felt very both hugged and loved.  They concluded the email with the above excerpt of that same poem.  I could feel all week that this was indeed a huge part of what made us the community that we are.  We are so blessed to live in a community of unbelievably creative, talented, intelligent, thoughtful and loving people who have very independent lives, but who also want to be part of something bigger.  I cannot think of a place on earth where I would rather live.  This week has got me doing a lot of thinking about seeing my life's challenges as opportunities to grow.  It has also to me thinking that I still have a lot of names to learn and I lot of people I want to get to know better. I wish everyone a holiday of growth, strength, health and joy.  I look forward to sharing with you about our seder (which promises to be exciting, with the Wines AND the Richters!!), as well as our McFelafel and our grill.  And I would love to hear about yours!!! Love, Emily

Purim

Hey gang,   It's been an exciting few weeks, latov v'lara (for good and for bad).  To hear our thoughts about all the events in Japan and Itamar, check out the article Ross posted on the yeshiva student blog entitled Japan, Itamar and Amalek Meet at a Check Point(ymgstudentjournal.blogspot.com).  We didn't write it-- it was a blog posting from one of the American students at the yeshiva-- but it perfectly expresses our thoughts, and it is beautifully written.  The Encounter program with Palestinians that he mentions in the article is the same one that Ross did last summer.    Our excitement started a few weeks ago on Shabbat, when we had a little security scare on the kibbutz.  I hesitated for a long time to write about it, as I didn't want to upset anyone (like my mom and Ross' mom-- hi guys!), but looking back, I think the story attests to how relatively safe we are.  And of course the recent events in Japan remind us how uncertain life is anywhere.    What happened was a Palestinian broke through the border fence, which is not too far from our kibbutz (though we are also situated way on top of a big mountain).  The event was so rare that the kibbutz warning system was not really prepared for it.  I was walking to synagogue, and my son's 8 year old friend came up to me and told me we are supposed to make sure all kids are indoors.  I was skeptical, thinking I would have heard such a warning from a grown up or a siren or something.  But to be safe, I went home and made sure everyone was inside.  At some point it seemed obvious the "scare" was over, and life went back to normal.  It turns out that the guy was caught before he got anywhere, because the fence has a whole alarm system, and we live 2 minutes from an army base.  A couple of soldiers went and caught the guy right away.  So that's reassuring.  It turns out that one of the soldiers was eating Shabbat lunch with us the following week, so we got the whole story first hand.  After Shabbat, there was a whole committee to analyze the kibbutz response, and we were assured that the next time anything like that happens, we can expect to hear a siren and instructions.  There was also more coordination in terms of more people having phones on Shabbat to spread news faster.   We didn't have to worry for long about whether or not the system would be effective.  The following week, it was tested by another scare (not on Shabbat).  There was a loud siren, followed by instruction to go into our houses and lock the doors.  This was more alarming (though much better coordinated).  Fortunately, we were all at home, along with 2 friends of Adin.  I locked the door, and started to set up a movie for the kids so they wouldn't be scared.  By the time I was ready to start the movie, there was another siren with an announcement that everything was fine.  This was followed by an SMS that they had thought someone got in, but it was just a Thai worker from the kibbutz going for a walk.  Whew.  When the moms of Adin's friends came to pick up their kids, I asked what I should do in case this happens again (like do we wait under tables or anything).  They both told me that nothing like this had happened in all their time living here.    A few days later, there happened to be a national school bomb drill.  This is apparently very routine-- each year they drill a different disaster: fire, earthquake, etc., and this year was bombs.  They did it in every school in the country, including Adin's gan.  It was routine, but the timing was not great in terms of the kids feeling safe here (though I tried to talk to them about it, and no one seemed worried).  And of course, that was followed by Japan and Itamar, between which it is really say which is more frightening or horrific (clearly the scope of the Japan disaster way exceeded the Itamar one, but the Itamar massacre was so much more disturbing in its demonstration of the capacity of evil...).    So just as the kids must be wondering why the heck we brought them to this crazy place (and I begin to ask myself the same question), along comes Purim!  I'm not saying a fun holiday justifies living in constant danger, but we're not really living in constant danger (at least not more than everybody else),and it definitely did help put things in perspective.    Purim was awesome!!!  Even way better than anticipated!  First of all, the time leading up to Purim here is slightly reminiscent of the time in America before Chrismas.  Purim spirit is everywhere.  The stores and sidewalks are lined with costumes and mishloach manot.  All the kids are talking about what they will wear.  Everyone is warning me that we have to do our costume shopping early or there won't be anything left.  We were fine, though.  There were two families that got together and did a mitzvah project to make money for a family that needs it by borrowing old costumes from everyone and then renting them out for 15 shekels.  This is how Adin got his great Pikatchu costume.  He loved it so much that he put it on when he got home, and we had to peel it off of him a week later when Purim was over.    Eek!!!!!  Guilt attack!!!!  I totally forgot to take pictures!!!!  How did I do that?!  Sorry Elaine!  Sorry Grandma and Nana!!!  Oy!!!  I could dress them up again, but we are not doing the yellow face paint again.  It took us hours of scrubbing to get it off!  While soap no longer makes Adin gag, he still hates it and says that it smells "ichs."  We may have to wait till next year.   Anyway, so before Purim, someone from the kibbutz asked me if I can chant megillah.  I told him sure, and he asked if I would help him out and read with him for a secular kibbutz nearby, where he does programming for them sometimes.  I said sure.  I had never really read more than a chapter or two at a time (did I do 3 in Vancouver?), but it worked out great.  Rivital volunteered to read some, so I read chapters 6 (which I have done for the past few years so I know it really well), 7 and 8, and Tali did 9 and 10.  That took half the burden off the guy who asked me, though I don't think he needed the help.  I think it's more like he thought it would be nicer for the people coming to have it split up, and also to have a woman sharing the reading.  I did my "famous" reading with voice parts.  I was busy reading and I couldn't tell the reactions, but Tali said that the kids loved it, and they were elbowing each other each time I started a new voice.  Apparently the wife of the guy who asked me to read also liked it, because the next morning she suggested that the rabbi's wife ask me and Tali to read our parts at the woman's reading on our kibbutz.  That also seemed to be a big hit.  Rivital didn't do voices, but she read magnificently.  It was a major kvelling moment-- both how beautifully she read, and her eagerness to participate!!   The rest of the family stayed back on our kibbutz for the megillah reading, which they said was amazing.  After the readings, we regrouped at home, and there was a party for grownups at 9:30 PM.  They have everything perfectly planned for everyone to enjoy everything.  They had sent out an email offering for the youth to babysit so parents could go to the party.  Unfortunately, I misunderstood and messed this part up, but I will know better for next year.  When it said babysitting, I assumed they had a babysitting space somewhere else where we could bring them.  I didn't want to shlep them out after their bedtime, so I didn't sign up.  But it turns out that the offer was for them to send babysitters to our houses!  Meanwhile, they assigned Tali to another family!!!  I actually thought it would be OK to leave the boys at home together (we were literally a two minute walk from home with our cell phones, and I left them exhausted in front of a movie), but Abaye freaked out and called us, and I went home and stayed with them.    So I missed most of the party, but I heard it was unbelieveable.  First of all, for the whole holiday, they asked each family to volunteer to help out with one thing, so for our part we baked one thing (spinach cheese bake, to be precise, which to give credit where credit is due, as I always like to, I got from LAURA SHAW FRANK... Does this make up for forgetting to give you credit in my cookbook, Laura?), and our Friends Morey and Alissa, who were visiting from out of town, baked another (exceedingly yummy onion quiche!!!!).  There were also soups and salads, all homemade.  That's the part I can report about.  Unfortunately, the best part came after I left.  I can tell you that they had a huge Purim shpiel that was apparently incredibly well organized and hilariously funny in the form of a mock news show that made fun of all kinds of things about the kibbutz.  Actually, there is one part I was there for.  In the invitation, we were told to bring small change.  When we arrived, there were a few people walking around asking for donations.  The kibbutz was (maybe still is?) undergoing a huge debate about whether to raise fees or cut programming from all kinds of areas, so they had people who were in charge of the different branches (the gardener, the education person, etc) dressed as poor street people asking for change for their underfunded programs.  Then in the news show I missed, they apparently made fun of the whole dog debate (there was a huge back and forth on the email list about whether or not dogs need to be confined), and tons of other stuff, some of which Ross didn't get, but all of which was apparently hilarious.  Then they had a trivia game where they asked things like how many times the kibbutz was founded (3!) and whose house numbers and phone numbers were the numbers they read (which is funny to me because no one ever uses house numbers here to help you find where they live, though they are painted in huge numbers on every house.  In fact, someone once invited us for dinner and I asked what their number is and she didn't know!)  People here are so creative, and they put so much work into these things!!  For more info, maybe Ross can give you more details (or maybe even Morey and Alissa), but I think you get the idea....   The next morning, there was a women's reading at 7:20.  I already told you a bit about that.  Just tonight I was saying how amazing it is here that of course there is a women's megillah reading and a women's Torah reading on Simchat Torah and that women give divrei Torah from the bimah.  A friend gave me an very animated expression and said that it wasn't always like that, in a way that made me really glad I wasn't here during that process.  Been there and done that!  But it is like that now!    Then there was a general megillah reading that was so much fun (I wasn't there...) that I think I'll go to both next time.  Apparently there was a group of guys that instead of booing Haman's name every time, instead they broke out in song.    After that was a huge breakfast with carnival games for the kids.  The place was modeled after an Israeli hotel breakfast.  There were people making personal pancakes and omeletes for people.  One of the yeshiva rabbis dressed up as Haman's wife and gave a "dvar Torah" from her perspective.  It was brilliant!   After those festivities, we went with a small group to Beit Alpha, which is at the bottom of the mountain, and which houses an absorption center for new Ethiopian immigrants.  We delivered big food packages to all of the families.  People were so happy to see us.  At one point, Abaye and Adin were wiped out, so we were sitting on a bench, and one immigrant sat down and talked with us.  He said he has been here for half a year.  He told us in his very limited Hebrew and English that he hates it here.  He said that the land is good but all the people are very bad.  He didn't have the language to really articulate why.  I wondered if he had just gotten back from the post office.  In the meantime, the boys were kvetching that they were thirsty, so I asked the guy where his room was, and if he might be able to give them some water.  He got very excited and started to lead the way.  The boys were falling apart, and suddenly he turned to me and said, you need cold water!  (not that articulately, but...) and he insisted on us waiting at the bench while he biked to the market for some cold water.  I didn't want to put him out and I didn't want him to spend his money on us, but I couldn't change his mind.  So we sat and waited.  He came back awhile later with 3 cold fresh bottles of water.  He was so excited to give them to us, and the boys were so excited to get them.    When we got back to the kibbutz, I could have just gone to sleep (2:00) PM and woken up the next morning, but instead we put together mishloach manot, and went to, could you believe it-- a Purim party!!!    First of all, the mishloach manot.  I was nervous, because when I had volunteered on kibbutz over 20 years ago, everyone gave to everybody.  I remember my kibbutz family had their dining room table sprawled with unimaginable amounts of candy and all sorts of junk food.  They were putting together packages from all the stuff on the table.  People would bring to them, and they would dump the new booty on top of the rest, and start repackaging it for more people.  You could easily receive your own goodies back several times over the course of the day.  But here they are much smarter.  They do a hagrala (the only way I can think to translate it is a "secret Santa") where you pick two names and you prepare only for them.  Then each family receives two nice baskets of food instead of a million bags of junk.  We sent samosentaschen (for those who have never been to us for Purim, that's samosas in the shape of hamantaschen), rice, curry (chickpea spinach, for those who care, like Jodi...), wine, chocolate, and a peanut butter banana bread.  In return, we recieved a fresh cheesecake (which went into the freezer for Shabbat), fancy nuts, wine, pancakes rolled with sweet cheese, and some other really beautiful things (I can't quite remember because we did still receive from a few other people-- but it was nothing like the insanity we have received years past).  Two of the kids also had "Secret Santas."  (Shall we call them secret Hamans?  Secret Mordechais? Secret Esthers?  Secret Patshegens?  Shall we take a vote?)  So that worked out well.  Shai and Abaye made their own for all their friends, but that was fine too.  They loved it.    That just leaves the seudah.  After we sent out all our mishloach manot, we were invited to friends for the customary Purim party (to keep the day from being boring...).  We had intended to do our own and invite all our Vancouver friends who are in Israel (because we always had such great Purims there!!), but the Jerusalem folks couldn't come because they had to celebrate Shushan Purim (people in Jerusalem celebrate a day later-- long story...), and others couldn't make it.  Only Morey and Alissa said yes, but then it turned out that Morey had to work Purim day, so they decided to come for Shabbat instead.  I invited these friends of ours for Shabbat lunch who have had us over at their house a quadrillion times, partly because they always insist on taking care of us when Ross is away, and I wanted to have them to us for a change.  She asked if I am sure I have time for that so close to Purim.  I explained that I don't have to prepare for a seudah anymore because no one's coming, after which she insisted we come to theirs.  I complained that if we did that, our having them on Shabbat wouldn't help even the score of hospitality.  She told me that it doesn't matter because she is terrible at math.  We agreed to go, because they are awesome and we love being with them.  It turned out to be a good call, because we had so much fun.   So that's about it.  We came home and collapsed, and spent the next 24 hours cleaning.  I am almost caught up on laundry.    So how was YOUR Purim?   Love,   Em

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