Sulha - Jerusalem

I had to take a test for Osteoporosis at Jerusalem's Hadassah Hospital on Mt. Scopus. I took a sick day off work, which is something I hadn't done in 4 years, and thought it was high time I did. Normally hospitals give me the creeps, but when you walk into one in Israel, you see the many kinds of people all being given treatment here - Arabs, Druze, Jews - and I thought what a nice place for a "Sulha"

I had to prepare for a visit by 19 interfaith workers from the States later that afternoon and really didn't want to give the impression of being a "dirty Jew" in my home. I ended up doing what I usually delegate to my kids - cleaning the bathroom and thought that'll better my reputation. I managed to give a 45 minute lecture and field questions from the group. The reason they were so interested in visiting with me is that I live over the green line - so that kind of makes me a settler of sorts. I don't live way over the green line, but about a 10 minute drive. And I'm a peace worker. So settlers and peace workers don't usually jive and they were curious to meet me, after one of the members of their group had met me at an olive-picking expedition with Taayush or Rabbis for Human Rights.

"Can I clone you?" asked one of the visitors after my speech.

"Huh? I think my kids would be absolutely horrifed to have two of me around..."

One thought I'd make a good rabbi. A gypsy rabbi. That'll be a first.

I invited another resident of our town to speak because I wanted them to get another perspective of how the majority of people think around here. I'm definitely not in the majority. After he spoke and talked about how awful it was not to be able to pray on the Temple Mount because it is the Jews' holiest site (not the Western Wall as most people think) and expressing wishes that the 3rd temple will be rebuilt right there, someone asked him about the Nakba. Before he arrived, part of my lecture was that we are ignorant of one another and most Israelis don't really know or care about what Palestinians call the Nakba (the 1948 catastrophe where they were forced to leave or voluntarily left their villages inside Israel - after which most of these villages were totally demolished).

"NAKBA??" he walked towards the questioner. "Why is it a Nakba? Because Israel was created?" He seemed to be fuming.

I smiled because - hey - I'm right on. This guy has no clue what it means.

The person explained - "It's because in 1948 many Arabs had to flee their homes and this created many refugees...."

But he didn't continue.

The speaker actually said he would like to come to one of my interfaith meetings, which would be great because then he'd get some more knowledge in, and he wouldn't have to feel so defensive when someone mentions the Nakba or other things Palestinians go through. We certainly know what we go through - the constant fear of terrorist attacks when in crowded buses and streets and cafes - but we simply do not know the fear of the Other. And this is what we have to be brave enough to face as well.

The next day was the 3 hour Sulha gathering in Jerusalem. I tried to pull in others to the gathering, but it was quite difficult at this time. I met up with Hubby and his friend just in from Toronto and a young man who was his driver and friend of this guy's family.

Hubby had already prepped him about my peace work. They were totally not into it.

The young guy, a cute 22 year old, explained to me his difficulties when he served in the army while going into Ramallah for an operation searching for terrorists.

"There was a man there with his kid. He was holding a gun towards us. We're given orders that if they have a gun on them, we're allowed to shoot. Look, it's either us or the guy." He paused. "So I shot him"

I didn't ask - what did the little kid do? What did you do about him? I just said "That is absolutely awful." How awful to have to make life and death decisions like this when you're no older than 18 or 19 years old yourself.

And with that sad thought, I walked towards the Sulha gathering in Jerusalem's Gan Sacher park where you couldn't help but notice the large circle of people sitting quietly in a meditation for peace. Arabs from the North had come in droves with their families - some traumatized by the Katyushas. I invited some Arab teens to stay in my home and they thanked me, but I think they still want to return to their families later in the evening.

We spoke in a listening circle for an hour - everyone spoke from their heart about their anger, sadness and hope about today's situation in Lebanon and Gaza - after which we listened to some prayers. Standing in a circle, we sang together one traditional prayer in Hebrew (Ein K'eloheinu - "there is no God but our God") and Arabic (la illa il Allah - also - "there is no other god besides God") in a particularly beautiful melody, which is still ringing in my head this morning, and my soul was happy to be in the midst of an oasis of peace in a public park in Jerusalem where many curious onlookers looked but didn't join. Seeing is believing though and I hope they went back to their families to tell them about seeing this unusual large group of Jews and Arabs sitting peacefully together.

And as the evening ended, I had a spiritual revelation of sorts. Remembering that these are the 9 days before our ancient fast of Tisha B'av when the Jewish Temple was destroyed 2,000 years ago, where even the 9 days take on some aspects of mourning, many Jewish sages have said the reason the temple was destroyed was because of baseless hatred between Jews. Then there was the split of the Israeli kingdom to become separate kingdoms of Israel (North) and Judea (South) around 500 or 800 b.c.(and am too lazy to look up the exact date) and the subsequent destruction of the first Temple on the same date of Tisha B'av.

An Orthodox Jewish onlooker spoke to me about our group and said "The North and South of Israel are really divided" - the North is feeling the war, and the South feels nothing. Not to mention all these refugees trickling into Jerusalem from the North.

Perhaps God is somehow "dividing" the North and South of this country again so we can do a "tikkun" (repair) of an ancient wrong. And I think somehow we are doing this tikkun, as many many people from the North are being hosted by people from the South - people here are opening up their homes. I see public notices in newspapers of people willing to host Northern families. I get daily e-mails by the dozens about this not to mention Jerusalemites going on holiday who are giving their empty homes over to Northern families until this situation quiets down...

Somehow - this, together with the Sulha, makes for a really good tikkun.

A Must Read!!

This is a "must read" about the situation we are in right now - Israel and Lebanon. He is a terrific writer. I think he hits it right on. Unfortunately.

wishful thinking

I've been getting e-mails from many different sources about the conflict - most are hopeful. The first is from Taayush

"Dear Friends,

Please find below a link to a new forum – "JULY 2006: IF NOT NOW, WHEN". Nestled in between the thunder of the guns and the wailing of the media, this is a place for Israelis, Lebanese, Palestinians and everyone else connected with or affected by the conflict to directly exchange views, information, experiences, and sometimes also blows, I guess. The forum will also host digests from media on all sides of the conflict, as well as links and excerpts from blogs from the field. It will be great if you would be the first to pick up the gauntlet and to start posting – if each would just tell a bit about herself or himself (age so and so, doing such and such, living there and there), so that when new people show up to the forum they don't find it completely empty.

Moderator vacancies are open, by the way.

The link is here "
==================================================

The second e-mail I got today is from this guy, whom I don't know - and I don't really know what light workers do, but whatever it is, it's much better than what's going on between our country and Lebanon.

"Dear light worker,

This is a letter from Israel, my name is Jacob Avidan and I'm light worker and I live in Israel as well as you know the middle east is in a state of war as a light worker im sending love and light to the battle zone everyday recently Ihave noticed a powerful energy that sent from around the world to this area so I start receive this energy and anchored it with my body and spirit and now I'm receiving everyday this powerful energy and I want to say thank you from the center of my heart for sending this powerful love yesterday as I'm working with this powerful love I received an understanding about focusing the energy and I need your help

At Friday morning im gathering a group of light workers to anchored this energy in three points at of the battle zone:

At 9 am in the Golan heights
At 11 am in the Galilee
At 1 pm in Haifa


These three points will create a triangle that will be the base of a powerful pyramid that you and the group going to create I hope that this energetic work going to help the people of the middle east

With your wonderful love and open their hearts and end this ancient hate

So send your love to Israel Friday July 28 2006 at 9am 11am and 1pm and we will receive it

If you have any question please write to me

humangel@nana.co.il

Love and light

Jacob Avidan, Israel"

The third e-mail I got was about a Sulha for Palestinians and Israelis to take place in Jerusalem on Thursday (pre-empting the big one in August) between 5:00 and 8:00 pm at Gan Sacher. I hope to be there.

The fourth e-mail was from a macrobiotic food group thinking to expand and include not just Jews from Israel but everyone from the Middle East - peace through eating...

So we all have our hopes for peace, and the e-mails seem to be coming in more frequently with people more desperate to want to end the conflict. Unfortunately, I heard some news that a katyusha hit the village I went to visit in May - Mughrar in the Galilee - a village with Moslems, Druze and Christian Arabs. A young teenage girl was killed. And with that, I will print out the e-mail I received today from Arthur Waskow of the Jewish Renewal Movement who sent out a revised Mourner's Kaddish (prayer) for this occasion.



Yitgadal V'yit'kadash Shmei Rabah

May the Great Name, through our expanding awareness and our fuller action, lift Itself to become still higher and more holy;

May our names, along with all the names of all the beings in the universe, live within the Great Name;

May the names of all whom we can no longer touch but who have touched our hearts and lives, remain alight within our memories and in the Great Name;

May the names of all

who have died in violence and war

be kept alight in our sight and in the Great Name, with sorrow that we were not yet able

to shape a world in which they would have lived.
(Cong: Amein)

B'alma di vra chi'rooteh v'yamlich malchuteh b'chayeichun, u'v'yomeichun, u'v'chayei d'chol beit yisrael, b'agalah u'vzman kariv, v'imru: --

May Your Great Name lift Itself

still higher and more holy

throughout the world that You have offered us,

a world of majestic peaceful order

that gives life to the Godwrestling folk

through time and through eternity ----

And let's say, Amein (Cong: Amein)

Y'hei sh'mei rabbah me'vorach

l'olam almei almaya.

So therefore may the Great Name be blessed, through every Mystery and Mastery

of every universe.

Yitbarach, v'yishtabach, v'yitpa'ar, v'yitromam, v'yitnasei, v'yithadar, v'yit'aleh, v'yithalal -- Shmei di'kudshah, -- Brich hu, (Cong: Brich Hu) >

May the Great Name be blessed and celebrated,

Its beauty honored and raised high;

may It be lifted and carried,

may Its radiance be praised in all Its Holiness –-- Blessed be!

L'eylah min kol bir'chatah v'shir'atah tush'be'chatah v'nechematah, de'amiran be'alma, v'imru: Amein (Cong: Amein)

Even though we cannot give You enough blessing, enough song, enough praise, enough consolation

to match what we wish to lay before You –

And though we know that today there is

no way to console You

when among us some who bear Your Image in our being

are slaughtering others

who bear Your Image in our being.

Yehei Shlama Rabah min Shemaya v'chayyim { aleinu v'al kol Yisrael, v'imru Amein.

Still we beseech that from the unity of Your Great Name flow a great and joyful harmony and life for us and for all our family, the Godwrestling folk;
(Cong: Amein)

Oseh Shalom bi'm'romav, hu ya'aseh shalom aleinu v'al kol yisrael v'al kol yishmael v'al kol yoshvei tevel -- v'imru: Amein.

You who make harmony

in the ultimate reaches of the universe,

teach us to make harmony

within ourselves, among ourselves --

and peace for the Godwrestling folk,

the people Israel;

for our cousins the children of Ishmael; and for all who dwell upon this planet.



(Cong: Amein)

wishful thinking

I've been getting e-mails from many different sources about the conflict - most are hopeful. The first is from Taayush

"Dear Friends,

Please find below a link to a new forum – "JULY 2006: IF NOT NOW, WHEN". Nestled in between the thunder of the guns and the wailing of the media, this is a place for Israelis, Lebanese, Palestinians and everyone else connected with or affected by the conflict to directly exchange views, information, experiences, and sometimes also blows, I guess. The forum will also host digests from media on all sides of the conflict, as well as links and excerpts from blogs from the field. It will be great if you would be the first to pick up the gauntlet and to start posting – if each would just tell a bit about herself or himself (age so and so, doing such and such, living there and there), so that when new people show up to the forum they don't find it completely empty.

Moderator vacancies are open, by the way.

The link is:

here "
==================================================

The second e-mail I got today is from this guy, whom I don't know - and I don't really know what light workers do, but whatever it is, it's much better than what's going on between our country and Lebanon.

"Dear light worker,

This is a letter from Israel, my name is Jacob Avidan and I'm light worker and I live in Israel as well as you know the middle east is in a state of war as a light worker im sending love and light to the battle zone everyday recently Ihave noticed a powerful energy that sent from around the world to this area so I start receive this energy and anchored it with my body and spirit and now I'm receiving everyday this powerful energy and I want to say thank you from the center of my heart for sending this powerful love yesterday as I'm working with this powerful love I received an understanding about focusing the energy and I need your help

At Friday morning im gathering a group of light workers to anchored this energy in three points at of the battle zone:

At 9 am in the Golan heights
At 11 am in the Galilee
At 1 pm in Haifa


These three points will create a triangle that will be the base of a powerful pyramid that you and the group going to create I hope that this energetic work going to help the people of the middle east

With your wonderful love and open their hearts and end this ancient hate

So send your love to Israel Friday July 28 2006 at 9am 11am and 1pm and we will receive it

If you have any question please write to me

humangel@nana.co.il

Love and light

Jacob Avidan, Israel"

The third e-mail I got was about a Sulha for Palestinians and Israelis to take place in Jerusalem on Thursday (pre-empting the big one in August) between 5:00 and 8:00 pm at Gan Sacher. I hope to be there.

The fourth e-mail was from a macrobiotic food group thinking to expand and include not just Jews from Israel but everyone from the Middle East - peace through eating...

So we all have our hopes for peace, and the e-mails seem to be coming in more frequently with people more desperate to want to end the conflict. Unfortunately, I heard some news that a katyusha hit the village I went to visit in May - Mughrar in the Galilee - a village with Moslems, Druze and Christian Arabs. A young teenage girl was killed. And with that, I will print out the e-mail I received today from Arthur Waskow of the Jewish Renewal Movement who sent out a revised Mourner's Kaddish (prayer) for this occasion.



Yitgadal V'yit'kadash Shmei Rabah

May the Great Name, through our expanding awareness and our fuller action, lift Itself to become still higher and more holy;

May our names, along with all the names of all the beings in the universe, live within the Great Name;

May the names of all whom we can no longer touch but who have touched our hearts and lives, remain alight within our memories and in the Great Name;

May the names of all

who have died in violence and war

be kept alight in our sight and in the Great Name, with sorrow that we were not yet able

to shape a world in which they would have lived.
(Cong: Amein)

B'alma di vra chi'rooteh v'yamlich malchuteh b'chayeichun, u'v'yomeichun, u'v'chayei d'chol beit yisrael, b'agalah u'vzman kariv, v'imru: --

May Your Great Name lift Itself

still higher and more holy

throughout the world that You have offered us,

a world of majestic peaceful order

that gives life to the Godwrestling folk

through time and through eternity ----

And let's say, Amein (Cong: Amein)

Y'hei sh'mei rabbah me'vorach

l'olam almei almaya.

So therefore may the Great Name be blessed, through every Mystery and Mastery

of every universe.

Yitbarach, v'yishtabach, v'yitpa'ar, v'yitromam, v'yitnasei, v'yithadar, v'yit'aleh, v'yithalal -- Shmei di'kudshah, -- Brich hu, (Cong: Brich Hu) >

May the Great Name be blessed and celebrated,

Its beauty honored and raised high;

may It be lifted and carried,

may Its radiance be praised in all Its Holiness –-- Blessed be!

L'eylah min kol bir'chatah v'shir'atah tush'be'chatah v'nechematah, de'amiran be'alma, v'imru: Amein (Cong: Amein)

Even though we cannot give You enough blessing, enough song, enough praise, enough consolation

to match what we wish to lay before You –

And though we know that today there is

no way to console You

when among us some who bear Your Image in our being

are slaughtering others

who bear Your Image in our being.

Yehei Shlama Rabah min Shemaya v'chayyim { aleinu v'al kol Yisrael, v'imru Amein.

Still we beseech that from the unity of Your Great Name flow a great and joyful harmony and life for us and for all our family, the Godwrestling folk;
(Cong: Amein)

Oseh Shalom bi'm'romav, hu ya'aseh shalom aleinu v'al kol yisrael v'al kol yishmael v'al kol yoshvei tevel -- v'imru: Amein.

You who make harmony

in the ultimate reaches of the universe,

teach us to make harmony

within ourselves, among ourselves --

and peace for the Godwrestling folk,

the people Israel;

for our cousins the children of Ishmael; and for all who dwell upon this planet.



(Cong: Amein)

Weekend Survival Tips

We survived the weekend with the two Haifa refugees, and our newlywed daughter and Hubby. We even had a more traditional Shabbat than usual. Son-in-law didn't care what we do in our home but my daughter had more angst about it.

"Make sure you have a 'plata' on" she begged - a plata meaning a hot plate where one doesn't cook on the Sabbath but is allowed to warm up pre-cooked foods on a hot plate instead. Plus her Hubby drinks tons of mint tea, so the water had to be pre-boiled and put on the hot plate as well for drinking throughout the Sabbath.

I needed some peace and quiet this weekend, so they came at a good time. We banned all cellphones (on vibrator only) and there was no TV or music playing. Only the quiet noise of backgammon and chess playing and the rustling of newspapers could be heard.

My married daughter and I usually have a routine of pretending we're Russian women at mealtime on Friday night, where we talk in Russian accents and curse in Russian. My daughter started.

"Peederas!! (homo!)"
"Piesdietz!! (slut!)"

The blonde teenage refugee looked absolutely horrified, as we laughed at these naughty words. We realized we cannot play "Russian" this weekend - her folks are Russian and she can not only teach us more words, but can understand what was being said.

The refugees together with my daughter went to town later that night and sauntered back in around 8:30 am on Saturday. Hubby had set up the tent for them on our porch, but by 10:30 am, the heat was unbearable and they collapsed on our couches.

"Why are THEY all sprawled out on the couch?" asked my daughter.

Hubby - "Because I forgot to lock the porch door."

The two laughed.

We had time to taunt each other throughout the day. The Complainer wanted a job waitressing where my married daughter waitressed.

"She can't even speak English properly - how can she waitress?" asked one of my older daughters.

"Would you like some piss-ghetti with ong-ions???" she asked - mimicking the way the Complainer actually pronounces these words.

"That might get her extra tips if the customers have a good sense of humor" I interjected.

Anyway, many of the waitresses in the meat section of that restaurant are now engaged to be married in the next few months. Maybe it's a lucky restaurant. I think I'm gonna send my next two oldest daughters there to work and find decent husbands.

Anybody take Ong-ions with that please?

Another Peace-nik in Iran

Didn't think there were any peaceniks there, didya? Well I came across one . I really believe there are more out there. And besides, I like the flying peace dove on his site better than the one on mine!

A misfit in Lebanon

I came across this site and I think we are kindred spirits. Here's a guy who sincerely wants peace. Like I do. And it also seems like he's going against the grain/wind or whatever. Not too many people up there are thinking like him. He seems like a really good bloke. Let's give him some support!

Great Deals on B&B's

My brother called me up this afternoon,

"There are great deals on zimmers (B&Bs) in the North! They're practically giving weekends away."

Yup. Dunno if he was joking or not, but summertime is when Israelis flock to these picturesque country zimmers, nestled in the Galilean hills - some are decorated simply for families with enough yard for a barbecue and some are luxurious for couples with a jacuzzi and romantic breakfasts for two. They are pretty much empty now.

I told him I had about 11 people over for the weekend, for Sabbath dinner.

"Are they all Jewish?" he asked. Which got me thinking that I could ask my Israeli Arab friends from some of the Northern villages if they are ok – and if they wouldn't mind sending some of their (older) kids down to me. They're probably better behaved than my kids and would get a crash course in English.

He continued - "How can you afford this?"

Afford what? Having guests? I learned from both my Ultra-Orthodox Jewish friends and my Arab friends that having guests is not a financial issue. If there are guests – then it's a blessing. And anyways, I have to work on myself on the guest issue. I'm certainly not as generous as Ibrahim from the Mt. Of Olives who has built a separate wing of his home just for guests, mostly internationals who pass by for a few weeks or even months, but sometimes for Jewish Israelis who want to get a taste of Arabic culture. I wish I could learn from him how he does it. Here I have guests for 5 days, and I'm nearly tearing my hair out. Maybe it's just because they're teenagers. Maybe I need adult guests. Or a separate wing to my house so if I want to disappear from the friendly chatter, I can.

But I was insulted at being asked if I could afford guests. I could only answer him with what I hear both my Arab and Ultra-Orthodox Jewish friends say – God will provide.

Chaos in the House

I was perusing who is perusing my site from which sites and I came across this particular website from Iran . Unfortunately, I cannot tell whether he is writing in Arabic and Farsi, but he looks like a nice guy. Not like that idiot President of his.

There were no buses back to my neighborhood from Jerusalem and the bus stop was packed full of people. I decided to share a cab with three other women also waiting. The cab driver was crazy.

"That'll be 80 shekel" he told us the fare would be.

"that's ridiculous. I never pay more than 50"

I wanted to get out of the cab but the other women didn't care - they were just going to pay him 15 shekels each, take it or leave it. I pointed to a taxi stand where I always take cabs from. He glared at me.

"You go with all those Muhammads?" letting me know that everyone at that stand were probably East Jerusalem Arabs, which I already knew but didn't care.

"Yeah. They're good drivers and they don't rip me off like you are doing"

Meanwhile, he's going on and on the rest of the ride about a French homosexual passenger, mimicking his accent, telling us we're all fat because his cab can't get up the hill (this is where I asked him for my money back), and thought I was the filthy rich one because I was from North America. What a dick. Next time, I'm stuck, I'll be sure to use the taxi drivers from East Jerusalem who stand by Kikar Zion in downtown Jerusalem.

It's day 5 that two teenage refugees are staying in our home. Our town is full of refugees from the North and I felt it last night while shopping. It seemed like pre-holiday shopping with the crowds and carts filled to the brim. My cart was equally brimming full of food. One of my checks to the supermarket had recently bounced causing me not to be able to write any more checks. But here I was with $150 worth of food for 10 people, all packed up in my cart, ready for the trunk of my car. I shelled out my ID card and gave it to the supermarket manager.

"I'll bring you the cash tomorrow for today's stuff and the bounced check" I promised. And off I went with my stuff.

Later that night the refugees were planning a night on the town with my Daughter. They had the blow dryer going for 1 1/2 hours and the cellphones ringing and the house phone ringing and the front door opening and closing. Hubby was sleeping again on the couch, but I thought I'd go out of my mind with all the noise. Sunday they all go back to their hostel and I'll have my peace and quiet back.

In the morning, I needed to have a quiet respite from my chaotic household which grew in size because my other daughter brought in 2 more friends and my married daughter and her hubby were coming in for the weekend. I took Hubby to a hotel brunch, where it was quiet and peaceful - unlike the noisy places I usually frequent in the shuk.

Married daughter kept on interrupting my quiet brunch threatening to leave because of all the people in the house. I decided the best thing for me this weekend would be to have a real Shabbat (Sabbath) in the house - kind of like what the Orthodox Jews do. No phones ringing, no television, no blow dryer noise for 2 hours, no cellphones, no computer clicking, no nothing. Just sitting back and reading and talking, not to mention eating - and lots of it. It actually sounds ideal. It might be just what I need this weekend.

Bad choices

Still seeing and hearing nothing in Jerusalem - war wise. Thank God. We have one refugee staying in our house from Haifa who phones home daily to speak to her mother who is cooped up in her bomb shelter. Our cousins in Safed have relocated with relatives on the coast.

I am weary of this - even though it seems like a million miles from home. I find I have no energy for peace efforts at the moment. I didn't even go to the Sulha Planning Committee meeting yesterday. Bad choice. I should have gone, because I would have found kindred spirits there. Instead I went home where my very own family are thrilled whenever Israel's bombs hit Lebanon. Don't they care about the civilians? Not at this time.

The Israeli Arabs up North in their villages told the Jerusalem Post they do not have any bomb shelters like the city dwellers do in Haifa. Why? Bad choice for the Israeli government not to have thought about building for them too...

And obviously Hizbollah don't give a fuck either about who gets killed - whether it's a fellow Moslem or an Arab Christian in Nazareth - as long as they are able to toss their katyushas around.

And the rabbis said all this chaos is happening here because of the planned international Gay Pride event in August. I think it's because my boss died and since then, all this stuff began, plus everything is breaking down in my office, which would never have happened had he been around. I think even our office machines were petrified of him. Hubby thinks all this is happening because our house is filthy and chaos reigns inside and out. It's not really filthy though. I've seen filthier.

Plus my Complainer daughter is lying to me, telling me she is Eilat with girlfriends when one of my "spys" found her in Eilat with her "should-have-been-an-ex" boyfriend. He is not allowed in our home anymore after terrifying all of us in a 12 hour siege outside our home one Saturday a few weeks ago, telling her he was going to beat her up. We thought by calling the police he would be shooed away from her and from us for good. But here's another kid, with her bad choices, that's not digging a peaceful life for herself either. Go figure.

Loser thieves

Everything was pissing me off this week. I get to work rather sluggishly these days - there's no old man waiting for me impatiently at 7:30 am to begin the day. I returned home on two buses, looking at everyone thinking - what if I actually "said" what I was thinking. Like seeing a young Ultra-Orthodox married couple, and she was so, so young. I felt like going over to her and asking - "what are you? Like 16 or something?"

Later on a nutcase came on the bus with tons of packages. She was blabbering to herself and crying, even though from looking at her, she looked quite pretty and put together, with rings on all her fingers. People were being nice and trying to help her, but she was totally wacko. I felt like telling her "Gee, I'm so glad there's someone crazier than me on this bus."

Taking the 2nd bus home, there was standing room only. Some young woman kept on stubbing my toes with her heels - I felt like telling her "Don't you dare step on me again with your Russian high heels...." I knew she was Russian.

And last night, while Hubby was sleeping on the couch, falling asleep while watching Fox News, someone crept in and stole his briefcase with his car keys, ID card, business papers, etc. He woke me up at 2:30 am totally devastated.

"My whole LIFE is in that bag!!"

After searching the entire house, I concluded that Hubby was right in that it was stolen. We took a very early am walk (in my nightdress, mind you) through the park - perhaps the thief threw the useless-for-him briefcase in the bushes. We walked around the back of our place, and peeked in the trash can. Nothing.

He called the police and guess what? It was waiting for him there. They found it a few blocks away near the mall. Minus his cellphone and checkbook and ATM card. Stupid thief. He didn't bother stealing our car, even though the car keys were there. He took shit he wouldn't be able to use because the checks were cancelled as well as the ATM card and the cellphone. Now what will Stupid Thief do with all these things? The cash was with me, fuckwad!! Heh heh! And I never leave it on the diningroom table.

So I'm partially working on like 3 hours of sleep. I'm OK, though. But I'm so tired that I told my 16 year old that she can have 2 of her friends from Haifa over for the rest of the week. These kids aren't having too much fun these days. They've been spending their vacation in bomb shelters and I thought Jerusalem might be just the vacation resort it was always meant to be... Plus I could use a few good deeds up my way.

What War??

Shel Booli Restaurant in the Machane Yehuda shuk - Jerusalem

For those of you thinking I'm cowering in a bomb shelter while planes are flying overhead....nah. War's not for me. And besides you can all read about it in the papers and watch that shit on tv. I'm fed up with wars and warriors and of course you all know how miserable this all makes me.

Jerusalem felt normal yesterday and people just went about their business on Fridays. For some - that meant shopping. For me - that meant eating. I found a great little gem in the Machane Yehuda shuk called "Shel Booli". The owner, a cancer survivor, makes healthy sandwiches and salads and they are half the price of what you would find at a regular joint.


Great salads..on "happy" plates

Check this salad out and the plates my friend and I called Happy Plates. I think it was the colors of the plates that put us in a great mood aside from the great tasting food.

Righteous Ogre

Ogres scare people. Like Shrek. Outside they terrify everybody, but inside, they're wonderful people. You just have to get to know them.

My boss died this week. Suddenly. He wasn't young, but I was sure he'd live to around 100 years old and never retire. I was sure I'd retire before him. And it is difficult for me and anyone who has worked in my office to bounce back to work - and we were told we can have a week's respite in order to mourn.

We used to come in at 7:30 in the morning and he'd be waiting impatiently for us to begin our day's routine. Now nothing. No routine.

He was difficult to work for but I managed and looked beyond the pettiness of me not being able to write my own e-mails and him checking every word that I did write on my own, and not rustling papers lest it disturb his train of thought, never being allowed to leave the office in case he'd "need" me for something, never being allowed to work for anyone else who needed my "English language" expertise, because he may need me at the same time, and I even learned to lie to him about my computer crashing, and printers not working, telling him it's better if this was typed on another computer or printed on another printer because it would be quicker - because he'd get hysterical if there was ever a lapse in the running of equipment here. I'd type list after list for him - personal and work-related of things to do, of which he'd get to only 1/3 of them, if he were lucky. And I'd never dare take a sick day or be late 5 minutes. That would surely be my demise. Plus, he'd scream and yell at the receptionists for all kinds of very minor infractions, like disconnecting a phone call, or not being at their desk even for a moment. When he'd leave the office we'd gather together and have coffee at the front desk for a few minutes of chit chat, only to scatter like cockroaches when we'd see him coming back in.

But there was another side to him, like the time he treated me and his secretary to a fancy lunch at the King David Hotel, for no reason at all. Every time he barked at me, he'd always apologize 10 minutes later, and compiment me on my work. Every time I was distressed for personal reasons, his laser would pick it up and he'd know something was wrong. Sometimes I'd tell him, sometimes not. One time last year, when I was walking around without any money for weeks, and feeling quite depressed about it, he found out about my situation and gave me and a fellow coworker who was a close friend, some money to go to see a wonderful movie playing at the Jerusalem Theater. He was raving about it and asked me if I'd go to see it.

"I won't be able to go to the movies for a while" I told him.

"Here" he said, dishing out some money for popcorn, a taxi and 2 tickets. "I want you to see it tonight."

You couldn't refuse a gift from him.

Last week I found myself thrown off a bus because all I had was a counterfeit coin. I was 10 minutes late to work because I had to walk. His secretary told him what happened, and later that morning handed me a 50 shekel bill which she said was from her. I had a feeling it was from him.

Yesterday, I told her I wanted to pay her back the money.

She told me "Give it to charity in his name."

"He gave me the money, didn't he?"

She nodded. "He didn't want you to know it was from him."

But I knew. And I wasn't the only one he did stuff like this to. There were many others.

I will miss him terribly. Rest in peace, Mr. Boss.

Jerusalem Cinemateque - at dusk

Jerusalem Film Festival

I couldn't get tickets for the opening night at the beautiful outdoor venue of Sultan's Pool, next to the walls of the Old City, but that never fazes me. First of all, it has been my tradition for years to stand at one certain gate and ask passerbys if they have extra tickets. They always have extras. Either for free or for sale. Even more exciting for me was the fact that Hubby said he would join me, which is a rarity. I usually do all these things alone or with friends or with daughters. So I wanted this to especially work.

An hour before the show I parked myself in my spot, even getting pessimistic comments from people like "forget about it" when I told them I was trying to get into a sold-out show. I probably even walked up to a few VIPs I didn't know were VIPs, like Atom Egoyan, the director, who was here from Toronto or the Canadian producer whose name I forgot, even Debra Winger whom I didn't recognize until they announced her on stage, asking them for tickets and getting laughed at while commenting - "yeah, for $500 I'll sell it to you." I did an eyeroll for them. Really. This is not a fucking Stones concert.

I felt like one of those Jerusalem Beggars asking for money on the street. I am a yearly Jerusalem Film Festival Opening beggar for sure.

After about 25 minutes, droves of people came in and among them 2 different kindly souls who handed me their extra ticket which I didn't have to pay for. God is kind!!
Especially so, since we are a bit tight on cash, and I was going to blow my last wad on 2 tickets.

The weather was getting cool, and Hubby mocked me for bringing a jacket, as it was unbearably hot during the day. But being a seasoned Opening goer I nearly froze to death 2 years ago when they showed Heroes and swore I'd never go through that again, no matter how hot it gets during the day. I felt bad for Hubby, though. I knew he was going to shiver.

We sat through 1 1/2 hours of a performance by a band called Atlantic, who did shitty covers of the Stones, Animals and other 60's oldies, but did wonderful on popular Israeli songs. And the speeches were short but plentiful. This director, that producer, this politician, that politician, etc. And I was surprised to see Jeff Goldblum there, looking quite handsome.

"We could eat sushi with him at the after-party" I told Hubby. I was successful last year in standing by the gates of the party after the movie asking for extra invites. One person handed me two. I could swing it this year. But as the weather got colder, I figured none of us will want to eat sushi with Debra Winger and Jeff Goldblum. I pitied her looking at how she was dressed with a sleeveless, summery top. Had no one warned her about the chilly Jerusalem evenings either?

The movie shown was the first Israeli film to be shown on opening night. Someone to Run With. I had no idea what it was about, but if it had subtitles, Hubby can follow along. Turned out we both thoroughly enjoyed the movie about Jerusalem's wayward youth, with a good plot to boot. I even recognized a few of the extras as downtown regulars who hang out.

Halfway through the movie Hubby was too cold to sit and went up the stairs for a hot beverage and to walk around to warm up.

The next day a friend of mine and I saw another movie from the Festival called Ticket to Heaven - an old one (1981) about Moonies and how they deprogrammed this guy who got sucked into the cult.

People seem to be so forthcoming and happy during festival week. And everyone chatted with everyone on line at the ticket counter when I wanted to exchange some tickets for other movies.

I saw someone I knew at the Cinemateque's coffee shop who handed me 2 free tickets to see a new Gypsy movie just added to the list of 300 films being shown during the Festival. She knew I was associated with the Gypsies here in Jerusalem. I was so happy to get another gift.

While my friend rushed in to see another movie where we were offered, yet again, free entrance (to fill up empty seats), I headed back home to reality - Shabbat was coming and someone needs to feed the family.

Counterfeits

I'm having a really awful bad quality moment - or shall I say a few bad quality moments.

My boss rushed me into work yesterday and I took the bus thinking I would take the 2nd bus inside Jerusalem to get to my work instead of walking 25 minutes. It would speed things up greatly. I handed the bus driver a 10 shekel coin and he looks at it.

"It's not real"

"Whaddya mean it's not real. It's a coin!"

"I'm sorry, I can't take this coin. You'll have to give me other coins"

Well, I had no other coins and no other bills. I'm flat broke. I got off the bus, half humiliated, and walked the rest of the way to work, calling my frantic boss to tell him I'll be 10 minutes late because of a counterfeit coin - which was all the money I had in the world.

Meanwhile, my kids were supposed to close a deal on an apartment they bought the other day and the lawyer they hired told them the builder "slipped in" a few papers she had never seen before, holding them responsible for the rest of the mortgage or having to lose whatever they deposited should the builder go bankrupt. They had been sitting in the office for 3 hours, ready to sign the deal, when voila. They were told by their lawyer not to sign until the other side gets their shit together. What a "bassa"(disappointment).

Back to the counterfeit stuff - I went to one of the stores that may have given me the bad coin. The salesperson immediately gave me a good coin in its place and we figured out together how to notice a fraudulent one.

In a 10 shekel coin - the fakes are lighter and the side is not uniformly lined. It looks sloppy.

In a 5 shekel coin - it looks exactly the same except for the sides again. The fake is rounder and the real ones are octagon-like.

So beware out there of these evil coins.

This morning, hoping for a better day - I got a loan from a friend so I can go to the opening of the Jerusalem Film Festival tonight, which has been my tradition for the past 6 years or so, I put on my funky pants from India, got into Hubby's car, and heard "rrrrrriipp" somewhere. The entire upper side of these lovely but awful quality pants were ripped. Thankfully, I'm wearing a knee-high top so it covers the rip, otherwise I'd look like some bag lady with ripped clothing near her behind or - maybe it's in fashion somewhere in the world.

Picnics and touch football and fireworks later that evening - July 4th - Jerusalem

Dressing for the occasion - July 4th - Jerusalem

US and Canadian expats - going for the food

July 4th - Jerusalem

Mideast Youth

I was asked to write for this up-and-coming great website. I jumped at the chance, not only because I was flattered at being asked to write for it, and having some great moments of being read by mostly Arab readers, but because it was for Middle East Youth.

"Me? Youth?"

OK, I'm way beyond my youth years, but nevertheless, if someone thinks I'm cool enough to write for some of the "youth" in this world - I'm in.

plum trees - Beit Umma

the road down the wadi

Tractor ride down to the wadi - Beit Umma

women in Jawawis

a cave in jawawis

unloading the hay

prayer time at Jawawis

Running with Rabbis (for Human Rights)

I was feeling quite gloomy Friday morning, my boss having told me and the entire office that he will be retiring in a couple of months, which left me in tears most of the day on Thursday. It took me a year to get used to working with him - and he used to brag how people who worked with him needed to be under the care of a psychologist/psychiatrist after their stint with him. He was one tough bugger, and an old one too - way past retirement age. But I thought he'd never retire, and I even got to enjoy his rantings during the day, because they were so silly most of the times over simply nothing. I likened my reaction to the Biblical slaves that were able to go free after 50 years, but many chose to remain as slaves having gotten used to their owners.

What would make me happy this morning? I didn't have a penny to my name so a scrumptious breakfast out was not an option. I hadn't done any kind of volunteer work with Rabbis for Human Rights since the Olive Harvest a year before last October. And they were going to a tiny village south of Hebron, Jawawis, at the normal hour of 11:00 am instead of leaving at their usual ungodly times at 6:00 am on Friday, my day off of work.

I thought maybe I really am crazy going in the heat of the day to this place in the middle of nowhere. But doing things like this gives me a high, which I cannot fully describe. Knowing that you are going where most Israelis dare not venture and instead of seeing an "enemy" you see people, simple farmers, who are so appreciative that you are there, that you are supporting them.

Turns out just a handful of us were there and Arik Ascherman, the Chief Rabbi of Rabbis for Human Rights took us in his own car. He explained what had happened and some of the area's history with the army and settlers. This village's hay supply (20 bales) was burnt, supposedly by settlers from Susiya nearby. Rabbis and Taayush and the Kibbutz Movement had donated 12 bales of hay and we were to unload it for them.

Arik's car bumped over the unruly paths leading to the village that I told him, if I won a lottery, I would donate a 4-wheel drive to Rabbis for Human Rights. We waited for the hay to arrive, and there were only a few women there, so I chatted with some Christian Peacemaker Team women from Italy and the US who are living in Twane to help the villagers there.

Some of the young men wanted me to take their photos and then grabbed my camera to see the photos I took of them. But they didn't stop there. I heard some shrieks from them and laughter, and then I realized - hey! they're looking at the wedding photos and at my daughters who looked absolutely lovely, but were, in comparison to traditional Arab women, much more scantily dressed. The redheaded one ran to me with my camera showing me the photo in my camera of my dark haired, sultry, 16 year old, Ex Criminal, and the Good Daughter, who had the blonde bombshell look for the wedding, and excitedly got his friends to talk to me.

Who are these girls??? they wanted to know.

"They're my daughters and they're MARRIED" I lied, grabbing the camera back from them.

When the hay did arrive, it was 3 strong locals and Rabbi Arik, together with Taayush activist Ezra Nawi, who unloaded the supply and went off to demonstrate at the main road against settler violence. I don't do demonstrations and stayed back only to be joined by some of the village's women who asked me why I wasn't at the demo. I showed them my camera. "I just take the photos". My Arabic consists of maybe 10 words, and I disappointingly could not carry on a conversation with these women, but that still did not stop the feeling of closeness I had with them. I offered them some of my water. I smiled. It was my only way of communicating, but it was enough. One teenager asked me something in Arabic I couldn't understand but I accosted Arik coming back from the short demonstration.

He translated - "She wants to know if there will be any internationals staying with them in their village"

"Will there be"? I asked

"We'll have to work something out". I'm sure he will get to it.

After we left, with Arik wishing the Israeli soldiers who were at the scene a "Shabbat Shalom" he said we'd be making a detour to Beit Umar (Beit Umma?) near Hebron. There had been some previous trouble there with settlers and he was called to check it out. We met a Palestinian taxi who showed us the way and through the village we twisted and turned, about 15 minutes. It was a huge place, and I thought, my family would truly be shitting themselves if they knew what I was doing at the moment. Now is not the ideal time for excursions deep into Palestinian territory with kidnappings of Israelis on the rise by terrorist cells. But I stuck to my belief that if you go with the aim of giving help to these people, there may some kind of immunity against this sort of thing. I hope I am never proven wrong. We overlooked beautiful groves of plums and apricots overlooking the settlement of Bat Ayin.

Apparently they were tending their groves in the wadi and encountered Jewish shepherds from that area whose animals were eating their crops, vines, etc. The Jews called the police and the police arrested the Palestinians. They seem to be nervous getting to their fields now. Arik said we don't need to be taken down to the wadi, but nevertheless, after 15 minutes a tractor appeared taking the 5 of us down to the wadi.

"They don't take 'no" for an answer, do they?" I mentioned to Arik.

Riding down in the back of the tractor, the 5 of us squished together, I felt like I was riding on a bucking bronco. The ride was breathtakingly beautiful and it felt idyllic looking at the beautiful groves but it wasn't really. Not for them. While riding down there with 5 Palestinians and us 5 I wondered to myself again, what many Israelis believe (wrongly) of most Palestinians - that if they wanted to, they could easily chop us up into little pieces down here and no one would ever find out.

It really takes a lot of trust on both sides for us to be here together nowadays. To talk, to sympathize, to listen unconditionally, to offer help.

On the way back I got a call from my ex-Criminal daughter who was let out of her hostel on her way to her friend in Netanya.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm on a tour" I told her not wanting her to worry, even though I wasn't too worried myself about myself.

"Where will you be going tonight?" I asked.

"Probably to a club somewhere in Netanya" she told me.

I think I'm more worried about her going clubbling in Netanya at 16 years old than I am about myself running with Rabbis for Human Rights deep in Palestinian Territory.

The Prutza of Jerusalem

My good friend who is Ultra Orthodox and who lives in a totally Ultra Orthodox town outside Jerusalem was called a "Prutza" yesterday by a man walking on the opposite side of the street - a total stranger. Prutza means a loose woman, a whore.

I know my friend. She is a modest, wonderful woman, who is kind to everyone and who, even though she is swamped with work, doesn't hesitate to cook us all a lunch of pasta, rice or couscous and scrumptious salads when the bosses are away.

But she is very attractive and wears a shoulder-length wig and nice clothing. She doesn't wear a rag on her head nor does she walk around in sloppy house dresses the way other non-working mothers/wives do in that neighborhood.

So instead of enjoying her attractiveness, some Breslover Hasidic male idiot decided to call her names.

"I hadn't been called that in 2 years. I thought maybe I lost some weight!" she told me excitedly.

"Nu, so what did you answer him?" I asked. "Did you thank him. You know at your age, being called a prutza is a compliment."

And we thought of things she should have answered him or use for future prutza-callers.

1. If you think I'm a Prutza, you should see my friend JerusalemGypsy. She's a REAL Prutza.

2. That's a hell of a pick-up line.

3. No thank you, I'm married.

4. Fuck off, you stupid c...t - (if he's English/American)

5. Ishtekha (your wife is a) Prutza (if he's Israeli)

Any other ideas out there?

Wild and Crazy Gay Guy

I love my crazy brother-in-law. He has the best sense of humor. I warned Hubby that if he keeps on aggravating me, I will leave him for a rich gay man.

Brother-in-law (BIL) was staying at a hotel where all these Nigerian Christians were staying.

He described them.

"They were HUGE! All aunt Jemima types. I told mum 'I know what this sect is called. They're called - Eating For Jesus.'"

He tried to join them for (probably very lively)church services on Sunday, but by then, they had gone.

My son took a big liking to him. And even he wasn't spared.

Brother-in-law: "Remember when we ran out of toilet paper and I had to use a toothbrush? Well, I found it. Here it is!" and he popped out my son's toothbrush out of his bag and threw it to him.

Saturday we walked together to the Old City. We walked into a shop selling exquisite carpets on the Via Dolorosa.

"Are you married?" asked the salesman.

"Yes - to a MAN" answered BIL without batting one of his long eyelashes.

No more closet for him. He enjoys giving people shock treatments.

We walked past several convents and we were invited in for a look and a tour.

BIL: "It's OK, we don't have to see the place. We're actually from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence"

Saturday night, my 20 year old daughter and myself took him to Jerusalem's only gay club. It was empty at 11:30 but by midnight it began to fill up - with mostly young Palestinian men in their late teens and twenties from East Jerusalem and environs. I think perhaps because it was Middle-Eastern night with my favorite sweet Knafe being dished out for free. My brother-in-law was chatting to a really cute Palestinian but I wanted to dance. And dance I did to excellent Arabic music, with all these adorable "fairies" who were more adorable than me. There were a couple of drag queens up on stage who had legs I would kill for. And for once in her life there was no one hitting on my blonde bombshell daughter, but she enjoyed the evening nevertheless.

Wedding Tales

Well it happened and I can't believe I have a married daughter and gained a son-in-law. The wedding was lovely and went practically hitchless except I kept on feeling like Tevye from Fiddler on The Roof when I approached my daughter to do something traditional like walk down the aisle to soulful Jewish music instead of Enya and she refused. But back to the music later.

I spent the wedding day at the hairdresser and makeup place with my 4 daughters. I was bored stiff half the time, even though we got a kick out of the photographer looking exactly like my second oldest's ex-boyfriend. I was restless and didn't have the patience to sit around for 5 hours. But there was nothing I could do. I was trapped.

It takes me 5 minutes to put on my makeup and I would assume it takes a professional to do it in 15-20 minutes. My hair took 1/2 hour just to blowp-dry it out. I watched my daughters' transformation - one morphed her hair into a Pamela Anderson type blonde-do, then cried because she hated her dramatic eye makeup. The others did themselves up beautifully but less dramatic.

By the time the groom came to pick up the bride, whom he hadn't seen in a week, for photographs and a blessing from Grand Sephardic rabbi Ovadiah Yosef, I was in the dressing room futzing around with my plastic bra straps trying to make them tighter. Meanwhile, everyone's annoyingly calling me to tell me the groom is here and to come out and I'm telling them -"honey if you want some photos to remember, I WILL come out completely topless to greet the groom but I'd like to be on good terms with my daughter."


Walking towards the Wedding Canopy the DJ put on the Enya song from The Gladiator. It was indeed very lovely, but as soon as the song finished and the entire family had been gathered together, Mr. DJ began playing some calypso-hand-clapping crap which totally fucked up the mood. He could have continued with some other gorgeous New Age type stuff, but he must have been on one too many Red Bull & Vodkas or whatever.




The ceremony began and it is different from Ashkenazi weddings, as the bride does not walk around the husband 7 times, and I thought at one point the Rabbi asked me to drink the wine, and I was about to as I was handed the cup.

"You're ruining MY WEDDING" hissed my daughter loudly, hopefully loudly enough for the video to pick up this conversation. Others whispered to me that I must lift up her veil, and put the wine to her lips for her to sip. It was red wine and she was petrified I'd get it all over her dress. I didn't. A trick for next wedding is to buy white wine.

My brother-in-law was called up to say one blessing. He didn't understand the Rabbi's Hebrew telling him to put the wine glass in his right hand. I hissed at my daughter - NOW HE'S RUINING YOUR WEDDING!!! And I laughed.




The dancing was lively during the dinner, the DJ played good music - first Hasidic music with a mechitza (barrier to divide the sexes) for 20 minutes and then a slow dance with the couple alone - my daughter had 6 sets of floor sparklers going off as well as confetti pouring down on them during the dance and it looked lovely. Then we had our eclectic music going - salsa, R&B, country, Middle Eastern (I brought my belly dancing belts) and I really think we all had a wonderful celebration. We had a matching eclectic crowd - Jewish, Arab, Chassidic, secular, modern orthodox,Messianic Jews - you name it, we had it.

Around midnight the ex-Criminal got totally wasted, unbeknowest to me, and one of the groom's relatives went over to me and said "go to her - she's passed out." The Complainer complained that she's causing us embarrassment.

"Now the other family will know that we're all crazy."

Too late. The wedding can't be called off now. Mwaaa haa haa.

In fact it ended at 1:30 and we shoved the "unconscious" Drunk Daughter into the back seat with 3 other girls trying to shove her around to make room for themselves (she couldn't wake up for shit) and headed home. It took us about 1/2 hour to get the Drunk One out of the car.




And may the newlyweds have a life as beautiful as my daughter's wedding dress!!!

Jewish - Arab Women's Tent

On Sunday in Beersheva, there was an Arab-Jewish women's tent. I couldn't go. There's too much to take care of before my family's major event. But my new friend did. And she's a great photographer to boot. You can read about this here.

The Mother of (the Bride of) Frankenstein

It sums up the way I feel. Daughter has been so bitchy to me. But that's ok. The wedding is tomorrow. I guess all brides are bitchy before their weddings. I took off like a bat out of hell yesterday morning, haven been given the okay to leave work to rush off to do errands, like buy my son clothing for the wedding, and other assorted millions of little piddly things. Rushing from store to store, I realize it is a blessing not to have so much leisure time. Because if I had so much time on my hands, I'd shop for this and that - beginning with bras and underwear, to pajamas, to sandals, to a long skirt, short, skirt, a few tops and pants. It's hard work. The few leisurely hours I had yesterday wore me down. I managed to find my son what to wear and I can tell you that I love shopping with boys. They put on clothes, and if it fits, and they can close the zippers and buttons, and the pants don't fall down around their waist, it's good enough to buy. We didn't search from store to store like I would with one of my daughters. The first store was It.

Today I picked up my mother-in-law and brother-in-law from the airport. He was insane as usual.

"We just bought a house near Lake Wilcox" he said turning to my son in the car. "You say Wilcox with an emphasis on Cox. Lake Wil COX."

He went on about the gay shul in Toronto that he nicknamed "Shaarei Tuches" ("tuches" is Yiddish for "ass").

Hubby's mom was touched that we seemed so close to her even though we live so far. It's been 10 years since she's seen most of us.

"We always talk about you at home, that's why!" I interjected.

"That's because Bubby smokes pot." laughed brother-in-law.

Are we not the Jewish Osbourne family, I ask?

Mafia son

"God, you look SO ISRAELI" gushed a friend of mine, my blonde hair gone and in its place the color red. She had collected some money for our upcoming wedding as things were looking bleaker and bleaker, and I sat in her car and burst into tears - not because of the fact that she thought I looked Israeli but because I was touched by her generosity and ashamed of my neediness.

Friday morning I met my ex-Criminal daughter. I had just enough money to get into town. I cashed another $30 check and put down a deposit on a dress we found for her for the wedding. I did attempt to pay with my credit card, but it was refused and I put down $25 for it, and introduced yet another Jerusalem store to the American retail tradition of lay-away.

The day didn't start off normally to begin with. I forgot that my son had school and neglected to wake him up. Ooops. Anyway he suffered a bad sunburn so we can tell his teachers that he was in pain that day. He told me that nearly every day he gets woken up by a fly buzzing around his head.

"OH, that's my assistant, Freddy the fly" I told him. So my daily telephone calls to his cellphone nor the alarm clock are not what prompts him to wake up -it's the fly. I thought I'm not killing any more of those if they're going to help me with him.

Saturday we lounged around and the Complainer's boyfriend the "Son of Mafia Mom" -'redid' my computer so it would download stuff faster and in the process, erased all my e-mails,and internet favorites. But I don't DARE complain. To compensate, he invited us all to his cousin's villa where there is a private pool and the house is empty because they're in the process of selling it. He threw a lit cigarette butt over the balcony.

"What if there's someone walking under the place where you threw the lit ciggie butt?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and laughed when I told him he was just like Complainer's dad who, when we had a dog, shovelled up some dog shit on our terrace and threw it over the railing instead of tossing it into a wastebin, like normal people do.

I felt like a million bucks lying around the private pool with my kids and this guy. He gathered up the trash, took stuff from me so I wouldn't have to carry anything and when we neared the trash bin across the street, he threw the plastic bag of trash, hitting the trash bin on the side and scaring the local cats, not bothering to walk it over and putting the trash inside the bin, like decent people do. But I don't DARE complain...

Funny, you should(n't) ask

I'm still in mourning over a trip I was invited to take, but know I can't take it because of my slave job. The trip was to be able to participate in Oseh Shalom~Sanea al-Salam which is a Palestinian-Jewish Family Peacemakers Camp September 1-4, 2006 -- Camp Tawonga on the Tuolumne River near Yosemite National Park. Looking at the dates, and feeling my heart sink, because that part of the US is just so beautiful, together with the fact that this type of retreat is right up my alley,and knowing I am not able to afford such a trip on my own is tragic. We would be in midst of steering committee preparations at that time and there's no way I could even ask my boss. It's like asking to be fired. He kvetched as it was when I took 5 days to go to Barcelona to participate in the Parliament of World Religions, you think he'd let me take off during the 4 most stressful times of the year to go to "camp"?

It's so difficult to ask people for a lot of things.

Take my future son-in-law who is of Tunisian background. We need to take a count of who will turn up at the wedding so that appropriate numbers of tables can be set up. My daughter and I have no problem calling our friends to see if they are coming. Americans send out invites with RSVP cards. Israelis don't. So if you really want to find out statistics, you have to call. Tunisian Guy said no way will he call and ask his friends and relatives if they are coming or not. It would be insulting. I told my daughter not to force the issue on him because we have to respect his culture too.

Then Hubby asked me if Ibrahim is going to show up at our wedding wearing traditional Arab dress, keffiyah and all.

"People are going to ask - 'which side of the family is HE from?'" he remarked to me on the way to work.

I'm certainly not going to ask Ibrahim what he's planning on wearing to the party. Hell no. Besides, his dressing up in traditional Arab garb will most definitely stir up some sort of curious conversations between the wedding guests. If he dresses Western style, he'll just look like another older Sephardic Jewish man, so if you ask MY opinion, I hope he opts for the galabiyeh look.

But speaking of Ibrahim, when I asked him if he will be at the wedding, he said "Only if I'm not in jail" and told me he is up for a court hearing the day before my daughter's wedding. The reason? He invited two old friends of his, men in their sixties, to his home to do some work at his house. He's been friendly with them for years and they do handymen work around his house. Unfortunately, the separation fence was built so that his friends are over the fence and not inside like he is. He is a resident of Jerusalem, they are now considered West Bank Palestinians. By law, he cannot any longer invite his buddies that he knew most of his life over to his home even for a cup of coffee unless they have a permit. Well, he was caught by the police who checked their id's and this could carry a 6 month prison sentence (even if the "infiltrators" have a clean police record which they do). He didn't feel like asking his old buddies whether they had permits. He did what he always did and invited them over. Everyone in his neighborhood does because the fence split the town in half. But he got caught. I hope the judge sees alot of Ibrahim's supporters in the court house and realizes that this man is special and not give him jail time. Let them give him community service or something. For Christ's sake, the judge should know he already does Community Service. In a big way.

The Wedding Planners

On Friday we sat with the coordinator of the wedding hall and mowed our way through the menu, and the time table for the wedding itself - when to dance, when to eat, etc. They were wonderfully pleasant and generous and gave us alot of freebies which had been listed as having to pay extra for like the fish fillets and the hot chocolate cake, plus the grilled kebab and falafel stand at the reception with a whole bunch of other things I can't remember. I wonder if I had a chunkier bank account than the tragically "in the red" one I have now, would I be happier and more at ease? I thought that as we wrote a check out for 2 days after the wedding for an enormous sum that we cannot cover.

In traditional Orthodox Jewish weddings, at the pre-wedding reception, the bride sits apart from her husband-to-be and is flanked by her sisters, friends, mother while the photogs click away at everyone air-kissing her. This is the time to talk to everyone, because you can't have a conversation while you're dancing the night away. The reception is going to last 1 1/2 hours before the ceremony takes place. That's like half the wedding already.

Would she want the special bridal chair to sit on in the grassy area?

She didn't want to hear of it.

"NO WAY!!! I'm staying in my room, I'll find something to watch on tv. NO ONE IS GOING TO SEE ME BEFORE THE CEREMONY, OK???"

She needed to have her grand entrance at the ceremony, where everyone could oooh and ahhh over her.

Her hubby-to-be just sat there and didn't seem to have an opinion. Maybe he was afraid to?

The Planner told us that 50% of the brides nowadays just show up for the ceremony and not for the pre-wedding reception.

We tried Orthodox tradition #2 on her.

"What about the Yichud room?"

This is the room that couples retire to after the ceremony to be alone, to break their fast, if they are fasting. Many years ago, but not nowadays, it was where you consummated the marriage.

The hotel would supply them with salads and munchies and there they can catch their breath before heading to the hall where the music and festivities will carry on well past midnight.

She was quick and to the point.

"NO YICHUD ROOM. NO. NO. NO YICHUD ROOM. OKAY? THIS ISN'T A "DOISY" (ULTRA-ORTHODOX) WEDDING."

We tried to get her to see that people need to find their seats and settle in themselves before the dancing gets underway.

As of today, her fiancee quietly coaxed her into having a 10 minute reprieve in that room before they walk into the hall, but on Friday, it was Hell No We Won't Go.

What about the dancing logistics? There will be Orthodox, Ultra Orthodox, Arabs, and secular Jews. Hubby wanted 1/2 hour of Hassidic music with a separation barrier between the sexes so everyone can dance (Ultra Orthodox Jews and Arab women won't dance in mixed company). Fussy Daughter compromised at 20 minutes of Hassidic music with a barrier. Then the barrier comes down and then they want all sorts of music - not necessarily Jewish. She wants to walk down the aisle with Irish music even though no one will be Irish at our wedding. Bring out the Guinness folks.

And after 2 1/2 hours of hashing it out, I saw the couple slumped in their chairs. I laughed and told the wedding planners -

"Look at them. Don't they look like the most miserable people on earth??"

I couldn't understand for the life of me why people look so miserable before marriage. Save it for after marriage, folks.

"It's normal" the wedding planners assured me. "It's exhausting for all couples to go through this."

I wondered if my daughter's "It's my way or the high way" attitude is taking its toll on future Hubby. But yesterday when I saw him, he was all smiles and adulation for his future wife.

She was yakking on the phone to her friend for a long time which I thought was rude of her, while he walked in the door.

"Get off the phone with your friend. Tell her you'll call her later! It's not nice." I hissed at her.

"Don't put pressure on her" he smiled at her as if she were a exquisite piece of gold he just discovered.

And I'm thinking as I always think when I see him - Jeez, which planet do you really come from?

My tent or yours?

I walked into work this morning wearing the same outfit I had on at last night's bar mitzvah of a co-worker's son.

"Sharmy! (shortened Arabic slang for "slut") You didn't come home last night, eh?" they all teased me at the reception desk.

I have a work-related "event" tonight and didn't want to deal with finding another semi-fancy outfit, so I made the mistake of deciding to wear what I wore last night.

My colleagues were soothing to me later on when they offered me some Belgian chocolates.

"We didn't invite so & so to come down to take a few. Now they're none left."

"That's fine" I muttered. "And besides, those people aren't as depressed as we are. We NEED those chocolates"

"BevaDAI" ("exactly"), they concurred.

Why was I so down? I just had a friend call me up sobbing on the phone. She's miserable. I told her to call Hubby who is also miserable and who has more patience for talking on the phone than I have.

"It's not tznius (modest) to call up your husband to complain about things" she told me.

Jeez, while I understand and respect her boundaries, I can't even fucking GIVE Hubby away, can I??

I had come back from a wonderful weekend in the Jerusalem Forest where they had a Celebration of Light festival. Old hippies, young hippies, religious and secular, and a handful of Arabs for added spice were there. Eliyahu had no success in bringing in 12 West Bank Palestinians because the army decided that there will be a closure every weekend. It used to be just on Jewish holidays, but they've extended their closures. Now it will be even more difficult for us to meet.

And I forgot about the real world where there are Cavemen Hubbys, horrible children, weddings to plan, dresses to buy for these weddings, fundraising letters to finance this wedding to send out, etc. and I just ate when I was hungry, listened to amazing musicians by the bonfire on Friday night, until I couldn't keep my eyes open, was woken up by jackals howling sometime in the wee hours, did laughter yoga, danced the dance of the Hebrew letters, listened to healers, shared our food, hugged and got hugged back, prayed in a circle and everything was blissful. Until Hubby picked me up later that afternoon.

I introduced him to one of the long-bearded Orthodox Jewish men there, who was quite a character.

"Your wife and I had a great time last night. You weren't there, my wife wasn't there. We had a blast."

What a wonderful introduction this was.

"Yes, this is EXACTLY what he wants to hear!" I glared at this long-bearded Caveman. We had been grooving to the music on Friday night by the bonfire and reminiscing about the Beatles and how spiritual George Harrison was and how he was at Woodstock in 1969 because he was 19 years old and how I wasn't there because I was only 13 years old. Then we parted ways. But he made it sound more whoop-de-doo than that. Oy Vey. I tried explaining to Hubby that where my tent was situated, in between a million other tents, you can hear when someone unzips their tent to get in. You can hear someone belch. You can hear them fart. I don't think anybody was "doing it" in their tent, because you would have heard it.

Back home, my kids complained that I smelled like a campfire. I didn't care. And like a true blue hippie, I didn't shower until the next morning.....

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem Forest

 

Trying their hand at tree climbing 

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem Forest

  

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem Forest

  

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem Forest

  

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem Forest

 

Great band playing throughout the night and during the day - Turkish, Gypsy, Balkan, Klezmer music 

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem forest

  

Celebration of Light - Jerusalem Forest

  

Celebration of Light

  

tent of Nations

  

photos from Tent of Nations

  

Supermarket not so Super

I usually do my weekly shopping on Thursdays unless I'm doing something totally important on a Thursday like my daughter's wedding in a few weeks on Thursday or some peace thingy on Thursday or whatever. There were a whole bunch of important things going on Thursday evening like the Sting concert which I couldn't afford so I didn't go, and then there was the Palestinian film about their soccer team being shown on the Wall in Abu Dis which I could have gone to, but because I'm camping out on Friday at the Celebration of Light Festival, I thought, even though my kids/family/caveman hubby give me a difficult time when I am around, it's better for all of us when mom is around. So I traded Friday night for being here on Thursday....

I went to Mister Zol where I live. It's translation is "Mister Cheap" in English. A regular supermarket chain. Thursday is shopping day rush and there weren't any shopping carts available. So I did what I usually do, and rushed out the exit to grab a cart there and walk in through the exit. But a security guard stopped me short.

"You can't come in here this way."

"What way?"

"You can't come in through the exit"

"But I've been coming in through the exit with shopping carts for 10 years!"

"I'm sorry, but I'll get fired if I let you in"

I was tired from saving my husband from buying a hideous suit he was going to buy for the wedding - I walked into the store while he had the thing on - black loud pinstripes with a black t-shirt beneath. He looked like Don Corleone on a really rough day.

"Sorry, no mobster clothes for this man" I told the saleswoman, and we spent another 1 1/2 hours in the mall looking for the right combination.

She pulled out a white shirt with sequins. For him.

"No Liberace shirts for him either." I huffed. But I did choose something lovely in one of those "newly appropriate" colors for men - lilac with a matching tie and a soft pinstriped suit. Hubby looked absolutely dashing. He put down our grocery money to pay for half the suit and we went back home.

But it was an ordeal and I was in no mood for smarmy idiot security guards who could have checked me going back into the store. I had to return the cart and go all the way around the mall to the front entrance again to get to the supermarket. I was furious.

"FUCK YOU, YOU IDIOT" I swore at him in English and slammed the shopping cart into the pile of others standing at the exit. I made my way again past the Russian security chap in the front entrance to the mall, probably wondering if he was seeing my double.

I did manage to find a cart inside the store and went over to the meat section. Hubby prematurely threw out last weekend's papers and I wasn't quick enough to grap the coupon page. But I saw a couple of last week's news by the meat guys.

"Could you grab me that paper please. I'm looking for coupons." He reluctantly walked over to give me one. The back page with the coupons was missing. After I ordered what I needed from him, I asked me to get me the other one.

"Sorry, I can't. There are other people waiting." There was one other person in line and the shit was too busy to walk one foot behind him to hand me another paper. It's not his job after all. He's a meat man, not a paper delivery boy.

I sadly walked passed a guy who was usually works in the meat section.

"How are you?" he asked.

"OK, fine, I guess."

He looked at my cart. I had a chopped meat package in the place where you put little children on to sit.

He gave me a very disapproving look - even though the meat was packaged in hard plastic.

"You shouldn't put the meat there, that's where you put tushies."

"Fine" I said and moved on, putting the meat in the main part of the cart. I had no energy left to argue with anyone else in that store.

Hubby came in and I complained to him bitterly about how harrassed I felt. He made me laugh by shaking hands with a Russian acquaintance and asked me immediately afterwards if I wanted to buy any "nyet" making it sound like "meat" with a Russian accent.

A good laugh - that's exactly what I needed.

10 top signs the messiah is coming

As in Arabic folklore when a pidgeon shits on you and it's supposed to bring good luck to the shitee, I wondered if the same good luck applies when you find dog poo right in front of the entrance to your place of work - which is what happened to me more than once and this morning as I gingerly tried to step over and around the many pieces.

My boss is impatient and wanted me to print out something for him.

"Is it printing" he demanded to know 1 second after he asked me to print the document.

In turn I glared at the printer as if to tell it - if it doesn't start printing immediately back it goes to the Printer Pound. Fortunately, it listened a second after my terrifying stare and began printing immediately.

I had gone to visit my brother and my 2 great nephews were there. They are Ultra-Orthodox Jews and were talking in Hip-speak with words like "dude" and "awesome" and "cool" smattered in their vocabulary. I was so totally amused by the way they looked with their black hats and black suits and their "homeboy" speak.

Somewhere in our conversations, I pointed out to them the messianic signs of the times.

"You know Mattisyahu is opening up for Sting on Thursday, in Tel Aviv, don't you?" I asked the boys.

"Who's Mattisyahu?" asked my uncool but lovely 65 year old sister.

Her grandchildren told her "A Hassidic rapper".

"Isn't this totally like messianic (using the Yiddish term "Moshiach-dik") times...." I asked the boys.

".....when a Jewish guy, totally decked out in Ultra-Orthodox garb, unashamed of who is he, in fact proud of who he is, performs with a world-famous rock singer? And his album made it to the top 10 in Billboard?" I continued, not sure they knew what "Billboard" is, but they knew by the way I said it, that it marked a musical milestone for performers.

"Not that I'm Hassidic or a Lubavitcher (the Hassidic sect that I once belonged to and that Mattisyahu belongs to) or anything anymore."

"Once a Lubavitcher, always a Lubavitcher" offered up my Great-Nephew.

I've heard that many times before. So since we are on the topic of Moshiach or Messiah as is the mission of Lubavitchers to reign in the Moshiach/Messiah, I tried to come up with 10 top signs that the Moshiach is really coming. I don't think I can come up with 10 - help me out here. These are things that are happening in the world today that you would never think would happen in a million years.

1. Mattisyahu, a Hasidic performer - becoming a world-famous musical artist.

2. Madonna being strongly into Kabbalah

3. My son offering to do the dishes and help me cook last week.

4. No calls from his school for one week complaining that he is suspended.

5. More and more grassroots peace groups I find out about every day in this country

6. More people into buying organic produce, becoming more environmentally aware

7. New York - much more safe than it ever was...

Anything else?

4.

Tent of Nations

"Where did you just come from?" asked the soldier around midnight at the checkpoint from Gush Etzion going into the tunnels leading to Jerusalem. We were a group of 6 people piled into a car that could only hold 5.

Our driver answered "From a picnic".

"A picnic?" the soldier asked incredulously. How many people picnic when it's not a holiday in the midnight hours.

He got sterner.

"Where do you live?"

"In Jerusalem."

"Where in Jerusalem?"

And three people rattled off the neighborhoods they live in Jerusalem. There were a couple of "internationals" with us - from Netherlands, Germany and a nun in the back seat.

The soldier peered into the back seat to see our smiling faces and let us go.

I just caught the last bus to where I live and saw an old friend I met at Israeli dancing years ago.

She was curious too.

"Where are you coming from?"

"From a party in Gush Etzion" I told her. The bus was crowded. I was standing. She was sitting. I didn't have the energy to explain to her where I really was. If you say "Gush Etzion" you really mean the Jewish part of the area, not the Palestinian part, where I had been.




I joined up with a group of Jewish Jerusalemites and others to this remote hilltop across from the settlement of Neve Daniel. The place has a name. The Tent of Nations. All I saw were acres of groves of a little bit of everything - oak trees, olive trees, grape vines - on freshly plowed land. The view from the top was spectacular. On one side you can see Neve Daniel and on the other the large Ultra Orthodox enclave of Beitar and the Palestinian village of Nahalin.

Two Christian-Arab brothers, Daher and Daoud Nasser and their families have been here since 1918. Their grandfather lived in a cave and farmed this area. They have been fighting in the Israeli Higher Courts since 1991 because the government claims the land they are on is State land. They have ownership papers to prove that it isn't. There were plans to build a road cutting through the lush terraces or perhaps build another settlement on this hilltop.

So the brothers decided to open up their space to people from everywhere to help them plant trees, harvest the crops, etc. and they attract groups of people internationally and locally. Of course, before today, I had no idea this place existed.

We brought food to share and took a tour of the area, including the cave where the family once lived, and watched the sun set over the hills. They are preparing a summer camp for children and the bed frames are in place, just the mattresses and tent covers aren't.

As the night went on, we sang songs with guitar, darbouka and tambourine accompaniment, teaching songs in Hebrew and English to the young kids there. I learned a new word in Arabic - hess hess (mosquitos) - as there were tons of them there but thankfully they bypassed me for some of the younger blood around. A bonfire was built by the brothers for us and they brought out potatoes to roast in the fire. We sat around quietly and the organizer of this event, Dhyon, spoke:

"I invite the angel of Gabriel to come down and protect this land that no government should take it away from this family and that it should continue to be a place of peace..."

"AMEN" said a few of us loudly.

It dawned on me that it was hitting 10:00 pm. There was no easy way out of this place - no bus stops and the Palestinians would have offered to drive me back but they don't have permits to enter Israel, so they couldn't. And looking at the crowd it seemed that all of them didn't have the slave day jobs that I held. They could camp out here if they liked - it was so peaceful that the thought did cross my mind more than once - had I not had to wake up at 6:00 am and hop on a bus 45 minutes later and be fully alert from 7:30 for 10 hours. I started to panic and vented quietly to a German photographer staying at Ibrahim's house on the Mt. of Olives.

"You're not going to die if you don't come home tonight." she tried to explain to me logically.

"And you're children won't die if you don't come home tonight." she continued.

But Hubby was off to Haifa before daybreak in the morning and I really didn't want to go to work smelling like I'd been at a bonfire all night wearing the same clothes I did the day before only a lot dirtier.

She noticed my nervousness and was sympathetic and squeezed my hand, asking people who would be driving back to Jerusalem. Not too many people were into going back right away.

I compromised and said as long as I get to Jerusalem before the last bus back to the 'burbs, I'd be happy. This means leaving around 11:30 pm.

I relaxed and so did the person who drove me here who seemed to have found his Nirvana at this place.

The Nasser brothers young kids were there.

"Don't you kids have school?"

The kid shook his head.

Their father told me they have three months summer vacation. Ouch. Imagine being home with your children for 3 months instead of two. Jewish Israeli kids have two months vacation. I don't understand why the Palestinian children get 3 months vacation. Perhaps because of their much lower budget for education. I can't think of any other reason.

They brought their car to the bonfire and played some Arabic music. I recognized the singer.

"Wow! Fairouz!!" I exclaimed.

"AIWA" smiled the brother, probably surprised that I would know Arabic singers.

Cheese and watermelon was passed around as well as sweet mint tea. The campfire was simmering down and about 11:30 the people began to get up all at once to go back to Jerusalem. I thought they'd stay the night. We walked to where the cars were parked - about 1/2 kilometer down the moon-stars-lit dirt paths all together, with Fairuz still singing in the background.