A Small Bit of the Kibbutz

My Ulpan is still going on, and with it they are celebrating the 100th year anniversary of the establishment of the Kibbutz. We have been shown films, text, and other various presentations regarding the establishment of the Kibbutz, Kibbutz life, shared life, living, sleeping, shared education, and the eventual breaks among the Kibbutz and among the movement.

I am definitely not the expert of a Kibbutz. I’ve read Batya Gur’s ‘Murder on a Kibbutz’, which was illuminating, heard the words of various Israeli writers on the subject, and recently watched the documentary film of Ran Tal- ‘Yeldei HaShemesh’.

Ran Tal spoke personally to the group afterwards, and mentioned an interesting point- that before one judges the kibbutz society, and how they lived, with the minimal time spent with parents, and the shared environment in general- one should see that in families where there are problems among the family itself- a broken home, an abusive home, and so on- that the family model is not necessarily perfect either. The Kibbutz model has different problems, but neither model is perfect.

In R’ Mattisyahu Solomon’s recent book, ‘With Hearts Full of Love’, on Chinuch, he discusses the interesting idea that before a Jewish marriage, no one presents the young couple a certificate, or even a training course, saying that they are fit to become parents. He questions why not, and his answer is that he believes that within each person, within in each Jewish marriage, they are equipped with all the necessary tools to educate their future children, albeit if they need advice or so on- but they have the tools necessary.

The kibbutz movement felt to eliminate these problems would be to create this shared environment, to make sure that the children would be educated and so on in the way that they wished, without these problems. I can see their point- from their side, but watching this movie brought tears to my eyes.

To see these young parents not being able to relate to their own children, because they were not brought up with love from their own parents, to not being able to even give them a kiss or a hug from true feeling, simply because they were brought up in the kibbutz lifestyle. To see a sobbing child being brought back to the shared children’s room, and crying for their Ima, until the wee hours of the night, or to stay awake all night, afraid to go to sleep- it’s the saddest thing in the world. To see a child, sneak out of the children’s room, wandering outside in the dark till they found their parent’s room, and then to sleep outside the door, or to clutch their parents’ sheet, but not wake them at all- simply because their parents would bring them back- just to be in the same room with them- it literally made me cry.

For one, I am glad that the Kibbutz movement eventually got rid of shared sleeping spaces- but it taught me something powerful: there is nothing more important in a family than the loving relationship between a parent and child. And how blessed I am to go home to my daughter, to hug her and to kiss her, and to be a true family with her.

Only In Israel #21: Of Cabs and Mitzvahs

A friend of mine recently took ill, and was sent by her doctor to Shaare Tzedek Hospital in Jerusalem. She’s a new olah, with no family in Israel, so when she was admitted, she decided to call me, hoping to get a visitor, a listening ear, and someone who spoke Hebrew to come help her out in the hospital.

So, after much dithering on my part (it was late at night, and I do have a little one at home and a husband to feed supper) I called a cab, and away we went.
The cab driver, a middle aged guy who was not wearing a kippah, noticed my morose mood on my face, and asked what was doing. I replied with the tale ofmy friend the olah, who needs someone by her side in the hospital, and how I’m jumping in a cab to go help her out, since I’m the only person available help her.

He listened, interjecting remarks, and then replied, “You know, you’re doing a BIG mitzvah. Actually, two big mitzvot. One, you’re visiting a sick friend who needs you. Two, you’re being like family to her- doing such a great chesed by coming to her aid as a new person in Israel without family.”

He continued without prompting. “You know, you’re like my wife. She goes up to the Rav of our Beit Knesset and asks, who are families that need food, who need support- and quietly, privately, she sends them food and necessary items, she offers them a shoulder to cry on, and a listening ear. It’s a big mitzvah.”

I listened, heartened to hear that one more member of Am Yisroel is doing such a wonderful thing.

He drove me to my husband, who I picked up on the way, nad then to Shaare Tzedek. When I asked for the price- he quoted something very low. When I asked why- he said, I too want a share in this mitzvah.

How’s that for OII!!

Aseret Yemei Teshuva

Rosh Hashana passed here, along with its uncommon three day Yom Tov here in Israel. Even after only a few years here in Israel, I still feel it odd to actually celebrate three days of Yom Tov. After all, most holidays here only last at maximum two days, and we end earlier than outside of Israel, which is especially nice for Pesach.

And now we enter in to a new stage- the Aseret Yemei Teshuva- from Alef of Tishrei of Rosh Hashana to the Yud of Yom Kippur. Along with the buses that have switched their flashing phrase from ‘Shana Tova’ to ‘Gemar Chatimah Tovah’, and the Kaparot stations that have found their way to every street corner, alleyway, and intersection- it also comes a feeling of limbo.

Our jobs from Heaven have been set out for us on Rosh HaShana, the final Din is reiterated on Yom Kippur in clay, and sealed in blood on Hoshana Rabbah. We’re in between, in a bit of limbo, without a concrete stage of life to understand. After all- we try our best during these ten days to just be a bit better- to add in more prayers to our every day ones, to try to do what we would like to do during the rest of the year, but somehow are prevented from doing. But we’re still in limbo- one good thing could just push us over the edge, right into that book of life.

So let’s make a proactive effort. Take on one small thing- one thing to push you over that edge, to try to make you into that better person that you have in your own ideals and dreams. And try it for the rest of these days- see what happens. It’s the little steps that count- and that which can pull us out of limbo and into the Hebrew ‘Chaim’- life and all that it represents.

Gmar Chatima Tovah L’Kulam.

OII: Seasons and Buses

Just noticing that again, just in this wonderful country that we call Israel, even the buses wish you a Shana Tova and a Gemar Chasima Tova on their flashing signs which also state which place they are going.

And I wish you all the same- to all my readers, a Shana Tova- happy New Year- and a Gemar Chasima Tovah. May we all continue to be inscribed in the Book of Life- filled with happiness, joy, blessing, health, and prosperity.

Leaving the Holy Land

No, I'm not leaving- I just got here. But I might be back to visit the good old U.S. of A. sometime in the near future. And you know what?

The thought is making me antsy. Not the good things about it: being able to see friends and relatives again, do some much needed shopping (ie: pick up things that are either only available in the US, or cheaper there- anyone who wishes to help me with this at any time is free to email me), and bring a bit of the Holy Land there. On the other hand, how can I leave Israel?
To not see my blue sky, my crisp white stone buildings- the air, the atmosphere- the general feeling that it impresses on my psyche?

And NBD (should I come up with another name for her now that she's 1 1/2? ) has never been outside of the Holy Land. When I made aliyah with her, the Misrad HaKlita (Ministry of Absorption) asked me when her entry into Israel was, as it was not written in her passport. I replied, "She was born here." They then duly recorded her date of birth as the entry into this special place. Like Yitzchak Avinu, who never left the Holy Land in his lifetime unless instructed by G-d- how can I take here out of here, even for a short time?

There are rabbinic responses listed as to for what reasons one can leave Israel. I think that R' Moshe Feinstein is the posek involved who gave the reasoning that if parents want one to come back to Chutz L'Aaretz to visit- that would be enough of a reason. But the simple truth shows that one needs a pretty good reason to leave Israel.

When all is said and done, I still don't know if we will be leaving or not. But I do know that if we do leave, I will be pining for my Yerushalyim every day that I'm gone.

Ulpan 3: The Questions

Why do Jewish married women cover their hair? (coming from the Muslim girl who doesn't cover her own hair in the class)
Why can't women sing in front of men that don't mind hearing women sing anyway? Can you sing under your breath?
Why don't religious Jews serve in the army?
What does Beitar Yerushalayim stand for (the soccer team) and who is Yosef Trompledor anyway? (I asked this one- and it turns out most of the class didn't know either. So much for educating the masses about Zionism.)
Can religious Jews throw stones on Shabbos if they set aside the stones before hand with that in mind?
Why do different Chassidic sects have different kippot, hats and payot?
Should there be buses that travel on Shabbos in Jerusalem?

And so on. Feel free to answer if you know. I for one had a lot of fun with some of these questions in class. I am proudly religious, so I truly don't mind when people ask me respectfully and honestly- not antagonistically, about the Jewish religion. I'm happy to give an answer, and to engage in discussion. What I'm not so happy about is trying to deal with the stereotypes, or the anti-charedism that comes along with it. It's hard for me to explain that a religious person who steals isn't religious, and that we are not 'you people' and so on.

How would you deal with some of these questions? Inquiring minds want to know. Respectfully of course.

Ulpan 2: History of the Hebrew Language

Ulpan continues- I'm learning again, as I dreaded in high school, the different forms: Nifal, Hife'il, Hufal, Piel, Pual, and so on. The problem is, at least with me, that after having learned Ivrit for so many years, my Hebrew is 'fossilized'- as my Ulpan professor put it. My grammer mistakes may be there for eternity, since I speak and understand Hebrew to a high enough level. Which is a price I'll have to pay. I've been told it takes many years to actually speak Hebrew perfectly- so what right do I have to complain after such a short time here?

But I digress. My elective in Ulpan is History of the Hebrew Language: was Hebrew the first languge out there? How did modern Hebrew evolve from Biblical Hebrew? Where do Arabic, Aramaic, and Phonician come into play? And so on.

As through the Mesorah (at least the way that I understand it) the Torah always existed- G-d looked into the Torah and created the world- through the words of Lashon HaKodesh themselves. The Torah is the expression of Lashon HaKodesh in this world.

But does that mean that the Torah is written in Lashon HaKodesh? Is Hebrew the original Lashon HaKodesh, or a translation or variation thereof? I would probably say yes, at this point, albeit with the caveat that we do NOT speak Torah Hebrew the way that probably David HaMelech, or Avraham Avinu spoke Lashon HaKodesh-namely, the 2 versions of Chet, 2 versions of Ayin, Daled, Gimel (Beged Kefet are some that most are familiar with), Tzadee, Shin, Samech, Zayin, and so on.

I, the datiyah (religious girl) in the class, kinda forced my professor to say that most of what he was saying was theory, rather than concrete fact- but most was highly illuminating and made a lot of sense. Plus, I got to show that I actually can read and translate Tanach- unlike many of the Israeli brethren out there. Shows a Bais Yaakov education is good for something! (that was a joke, for those of you about to throw tomatoes.)

Anyone have any really really early Torah sources for prounciation and grammer? Or writing, and language? I'm curious!

Ulpan: First Thoughts

Yes, you read the title correctly: I'm in Ulpan.

Traditionally, Ulpan is conducted over a long period of time, except for crazy fanatical students like me, who have no time in their lives to begin with, so they embark on the sadistic torture called Ulpan Kayitz (Summer Ulpan), which is 2 months of intensive Hebrew learning atmosphere, with some fun electives and activities thrown into the mix.

When I first walked into the Ulpan (3 days late: Israel bureaucracy at its best), I immediately was thrust into a conversation amidst the mostly irreligious- (or chiloni, as they call themselves- no derogatory meaning implied) members of the class, regarding a certain text passage that they had read. It seems that one of the members of the class interpreted the passage to mean that Jerusalem- ie Yerushalayim- is a holy city, and therefore, should be occupied by the religious (ie, charedi or dati- depending on which group you are referring to.)

And, in midst of the screaming of the 'zealot charedi movement that wants to take over a city that should be free for all'- I slunk into a chair in the back, my cheeks burning brighter than the colorful headscarf I had on my head that declared to all that I was a 'da'atiyah'.

I thought that I would have to leave Ulpan then and there. My professor, very knowledgable about the religious public and Tanach in general (he grew up in a religious household and cast it away), singled out me as the likely person to explain why women can't sing in front of men who don't care about hearing women sing.

I picked the least inflammatory elective- History of the Hebrew Language, as opposed to Biblical Criticism, and am enjoying it immensely- especially as to most of the class, I seem to be a scholar of Biblical Hebrew (ie: I can translate and read Tanach.)

I must say, Ulpan is a truly interesting experience. All comments and ideas are welcome.

Just a Mazel Tov Shout Out....

Just thought I shouldn't ignore the many, many mazel tovs in the Jblogosphere:

Jerusalem Stoned, Mekubal/The Rabbi's Wife, and Sporadic Intelligence on the birth of their baby boys!

Shades of Grey, Musing Maidel, and SiBaW on their engagements!

Chana on her upcoming marriage!

As a Yiddishism expresses it so perfectly: Oif Simchos- or in Hebrew- let's continue to hear Besurot Tovot!

The Israeli Mothers' Club

This month, I initiated myself into a new exclusive club. The initiation rites were frustratingly annoying, as intiation rites usually are, but once you are in, you're in for life- or at least for what seems like a life sentence.

What did I do to get inducted into this exclusive club? Well, it's not really what I did, but rather what my daughter did, and rather not what she did, but what was done to her. You see, I joined the IMC- Israeli Mothers' Club. This club involves all mommies, Imas, Mamas, and other assorted names, who are now living with their children in Israel.

What is this induction rite of which I speak? Well, the classical one of course. It's a four letter word that might be one of those 10 plagues that God struck Egypt with in days gone by. And yes, my daughter had it.

Yes, I freaked out. No, I had dealt with it before. Yes, I still freaked out. Yes, I called my former neighbor, the Ganenet, who responded with those famous acceptance words: Welcome to the IMC. You're in it for life now.

And then she proceeded to tell me how to handle the scourge that had taken over my house, and most heads in the house as well.

And then I cried. Because, I don't know if I can do this- be the Israeli mother that my kids will probably expect me to be- capable, unflappable, courageous, that strong and comfortable shoulder to lean on, and lap to hug and cuddle.

If I can't even handle a common pest, how could I deal with the greater things that go along with being an Israeli Ima? What will I do one day when a future son turns 18? What will I do on my daughter's first day of real gan in the Israeli school system? And there are so many more milestones that I don't even know about in being an Ima here in this Holy Land?

If a little tiny thing like this moves me to tears- what will be?

But for now, I squared my shoulders, and dealt with it. Rosemary shampoo and conditioner, nice fine toothed combs- and a clean household once again. Welcome to the IMC, you're in it for life. Hatzlacha Rabba.