I am being very aware of how days I have left before I jet out of Rochester to Tel Aviv (via Toronto on AirCanada) on July 1st. I am become extra aware of the news in NYT and Israeli papers so that I am prepared to answer some questions that Israelis may pose for me, particularly the upcoming election.
It means having to be specific on why so much of the West and liberal Americans want to support Obama. It means telling them what a disaster the US is domestically and we are in need of a president who can fix and prep the US for the future. Americans are sick and tired of being ruined after 7 years of presidency, especially that Bush has turned into a lame duck. And explain why Hillary Clinton lost. I cannot defend John McCain as to why he is a better choice other than for Israel. And I am on the fence about the whole thing, no matter who's Obama's VP. This is a bad time for American Jewish communities who still very much want to support Israel and are Democrats.
My friend asked me over dinner a few nights ago to remind her why "Obama is bad for the Jews." She's fairly secular Jew who is just beginning to explore the Jewish world a bit so what I had said to her shocked her. She came from a staunch Hillary Clinton family so here she was, in the same uncertain position but would like to vote Democrat. First, I told her that Obama has not been to Israel enough- only once in 2006 to Chicago's sister city. What bothers the Jews the most is how he wants to deal with Iran, Israel's current biggest enemy. Obama, in summer 2007, explicitly stated that he would meet dictators upfront including Iran without using envoys or UN sanctions. Here's the transcript:
Question: Would you be willing to meet separately, without precondition, during the first year of your administration, in Washington or anywhere else, with the leaders of Iran, Syria, Venezuela, Cuba and North Korea, in order to bridge the gap that divides our countries?
Obama: I would. And the reason is this, that the notion that somehow not talking to countries is punishment to them -- which has been the guiding diplomatic principle of this administration -- is ridiculous. ... And I think that it is a disgrace that we have not spoken to them. We've been talking about Iraq -- one of the first things that I would do in terms of moving a diplomatic effort in the region forward is to send a signal that we need to talk to Iran and Syria because they're going to have responsibilities if Iraq collapses.
Right, but it makes Israel nervous. US' plan could fail and erupt in a Middle East war that would seriously threat the Jewish state. Iran's president, Ahmadinejad, denies the Holocaust and does not recognize the State of Israel. So the logic is that Ahmadinejad must recognize the State of Israel and accept the Nazi Holocaust in order for any peace talks with Israel and the US.
In general, Obama's attitude and foreign policies annoy and worry the Jews. Some Jews go as far to point out his Muslim background and his middle name, Huessein, and argue that he'll be pro-Palestinne. The fact is that fundamentalist Muslims are angry with him for not recognizing his own Muslim background so there is very little for those Jews to worry about.
Further reasons for Obama's weak stance with the Jews are his ties to the black church that he just divorced from (aka Reverend Wright), lack of abroad experience (3 weeks in Pakistan and romping around Indoesia doesn't really count), and general historical Jewish-black tensions. My biggest gripe in his cheap talk, especially his speech on Memorial's Day. He spoke to a group of WWII veterans and told them that his great-grandfather had served in WWII and helped to liberate Auschwitz. BUZZ! The Americans did not liberate the camps in Poland, it was the Soviet troops that did. Historians called on him on that. Later, the campaign revised its statement that the grandfather liberated Buchenwald. Kind of like picking a name out of the hat to me.
Recently, he has been attempt to connect with the Jewish voters. He says that he supports undivided Jerusalem under Israeli control while entertaining the idea of a two-state solution. Jews know better. Two state solution cannot happen unless Jerusalem divides.
Obviously as I have lived in Jerusalem and observed what has happened in Gaza since Hamas took over, I don't believe that Abbas could take better care of East Jerusalem than the Israeli government, no matter how much the Arabs complain.
So what do I do at this point? Zev says to keep an eye on Chicago's Jewish community given that they have known him the longest. I should update the Israelis without leaning to one side of the fence which I don't want to do until October or November. But also watch what happens when Israel attempts to talk with Syria and how Israelis react.
Or, maybe the Israelis won't say anything.... not that it matters but as I said to my mother several weeks ago, "I'm not anyone's spokesperson. I'm just a voter." As a voter and an US "ambassador" to Israel, I should be informaed of both sides of the issue at hand so that I can answer any questions without bias (if anyone can help it) and eventually make an informed decision.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Canada's PM on Israel
The Prime Minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, delivered a speech forIsrael's 60th. It is so extraordinary that I must lead off with this today:
"All of my life, Israel has been a symbol of the triumph of hope and faith. After 1945, our battered world desperately needed to be lifted out ofpost-war darkness and despair. After so much pain and suffering, humanityneeded comfort and optimism. After so much death and destruction, we neededthe renewal of the dream of a better and more civilized world. In short, weneeded to be inspired. It was the people who had suffered who most providedthat inspiration. By their example, they led the world back ! to the light. From shattered Europe and other countries near and far, the descendants ofAbraham, Isaac, and Jacob made their way home. Their pilgrimage was theculmination of a two-thousand-year-old dream; it is a tribute to the unquenchable human aspiration for freedom, and a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Jewish people.
"In the sixty years that followed, Israel blossomed into one of the mostsuccessful countries on earth; a land of ingenuity and enterprise, an oasisof agricultural genius, a wellspring of fine art and high culture, a modelof democracy. Israel truly is the 'miracle in the desert.'" But the source of Israel's strength and success,! in my view, is itscommitment to the universal values of all civilized peoples: freedom,democracy, human rights and the rule of law...
"Unfortunately, Israel at 60 remains a country threatened by those groups and regimes who deny to this day its right to exist. And why? Make no mistake; look beyond the thinly-veiled rationalizations: because they hate Israel, just as they hate the Jewish people. Our government believes that those who threaten Israel also threaten Canada, because, as the last world war showed, hate-fueled bigotry against some is ultimately a threat to us all, and must be resisted wherever it may lurk.
"In this ongoing battle, Canada stands side-by-side with the State ofIsrael, our friend and ally in the democratic family of nations. We havestood with Israel even when it has not been popular to do so, and we willcontinue to stand with Israel, just as I have always said we would...
"There will be many challenges along the way, but considering how far Israel has come in such a short time, in the face of such seemingly insurmountableodds, I can foresee no dark force, no matter how strong, that could succeedin dimming the light of freedom and democracy that! shines from within Israel."
"All of my life, Israel has been a symbol of the triumph of hope and faith. After 1945, our battered world desperately needed to be lifted out ofpost-war darkness and despair. After so much pain and suffering, humanityneeded comfort and optimism. After so much death and destruction, we neededthe renewal of the dream of a better and more civilized world. In short, weneeded to be inspired. It was the people who had suffered who most providedthat inspiration. By their example, they led the world back ! to the light. From shattered Europe and other countries near and far, the descendants ofAbraham, Isaac, and Jacob made their way home. Their pilgrimage was theculmination of a two-thousand-year-old dream; it is a tribute to the unquenchable human aspiration for freedom, and a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Jewish people.
"In the sixty years that followed, Israel blossomed into one of the mostsuccessful countries on earth; a land of ingenuity and enterprise, an oasisof agricultural genius, a wellspring of fine art and high culture, a modelof democracy. Israel truly is the 'miracle in the desert.'" But the source of Israel's strength and success,! in my view, is itscommitment to the universal values of all civilized peoples: freedom,democracy, human rights and the rule of law...
"Unfortunately, Israel at 60 remains a country threatened by those groups and regimes who deny to this day its right to exist. And why? Make no mistake; look beyond the thinly-veiled rationalizations: because they hate Israel, just as they hate the Jewish people. Our government believes that those who threaten Israel also threaten Canada, because, as the last world war showed, hate-fueled bigotry against some is ultimately a threat to us all, and must be resisted wherever it may lurk.
"In this ongoing battle, Canada stands side-by-side with the State ofIsrael, our friend and ally in the democratic family of nations. We havestood with Israel even when it has not been popular to do so, and we willcontinue to stand with Israel, just as I have always said we would...
"There will be many challenges along the way, but considering how far Israel has come in such a short time, in the face of such seemingly insurmountableodds, I can foresee no dark force, no matter how strong, that could succeedin dimming the light of freedom and democracy that! shines from within Israel."
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Luckiest Jew in the World
From a forwarded e-mail from my uncle and it reasonates very, very true for me for most part.. except her opinion on Israelis' "quick fuses." Of course, she's older than me so...
The Luckiest Jews In The World
_____
By:Caroline B. Glick Wednesday, April 23, 2008
_____
I just published a collection<http://www.israelbooks.com/bookDetails.asp?book=659&catId=1&gclid=CMuU5vLO15ICFQQPuwodSyKb5w> of my essays in English. Each time I am asked if I amalso releasing the volume in Hebrew I feel a pain deep inside me when Ianswer that no, right now, my publisher is only interested in an Englishedition. Indeed it is a shame because I wrote most of the essays in Hebrewas well.
Writing in Hebrew is a qualitatively different experience than writing inEnglish. Hebrew is a more compact language than English. It has fewer wordsand the words it has are denser and more flexible than English words. A1,200-word essay in Hebrew will be 1,800 words in English.
This is a mechanical difference. But there are deeper distinctions as well.One level beyond the mechanics is the multiple meanings of Hebrew words. Thedensity of meaning in Hebrew is a writer's dream. Nearly anyone can imbue aseemingly simple sentence with multiple, generally complementary meaningssimply by choosing a specific verb, verb form, noun or adjective. Thesedouble, triple and even quadruple meanings of one word are a source ofunbounded joy for a writer. To take just one example, the Hebrew word"shevet" means returning and it also means sitting. And it is also a homonymfor club - as in billy club - and for tribe.
In 2005, the IDF named the operation expelling the Israeli residents of Gazaand Northern Samaria "Shevet Achim," or returning or sitting with brothers.But it also sounded like it was making a distinction between tribesmen andbrothers. And it also sounded like "clubbing brothers."
As this one example demonstrates, one joyful consequence of the uniquedensity of the Hebrew language is that satirical irony comes easily to eventhe most dour and unpoetic writers.
For a Jew, knowing, speaking and writing Hebrew is an intimate experience.This is particularly so for those of us whose mother tongue is not Hebrew -because as the secrets of the language slowly reveal themselves to us wefeel we are discovering ourselves.
Hebrew encapsulates the entirety of the Jewish story. Modern Hebrew inparticular is an eclectic amalgamation of classical Hebrew, Yiddishisms, andexpressions from the Sephardic Diaspora experience. Greek, Roman, Aramaic,Turkish, Arabic and English expressions meld seamlessly into the stream ofwords. It is not simply that it is the language of the Bible. Hebrew is alsoan expression of the unique culture of a small, proud, often besieged, oftenconquered and permeable people.
Its power to explain that cultural experience and that historical baggage issomething that often leaves a newly initiated member of the Hebrew-speakingworld gasping in a mixture of disbelief and relief. It is unbelievable thata language can be so immediately and unselfconsciously expressive offeelings that have traversed millennia. Understanding its power as a tool ofexpressing the Jewish condition is one of the most gratifying discoveries aJew can make.
But the experience of speaking in Hebrew and of living in Hebrew isincomplete when it is not experienced in Israel. It is one thing to pray ina synagogue in Hebrew or even to speak regular Hebrew outside of Israel. Theformer is a spiritual duty and a communal experience. The latter is a socialor educational experience. But speaking Hebrew in Israel is a completeexperience. Hebrew localizes the Jewishness, Judaism and Jews. It anchors usto the Land of Israel. Taken together, the Hebrew language and the Land ofIsrael stabilize a tradition and make the Jewish people whole.
I write all of this as a means of explaining why a Jew in the Diaspora,particularly the United States, would want to live in Israel. LeavingAmerica is difficult on several levels. In my own experience, it involvedphysically separating from my entire family. It also involved cutting myselfoff from my language - English - and immersing myself completely in a tongueI had yet to master. Beyond that, it meant leaving a country that had doneonly good for me and for the generations of my family who fled to Americafrom the pogroms in Eastern Europe at the turn of the twentieth century.
As someone who loves me told me 17 years ago as I packed my bags for anunknowable future, "People don't emigrate away from America. They beg tocome to its shores."
But would it be right to characterize leaving America as an act ofingratitude? Do Jews have to reject America in order to go to Israel? No, wedon't.
Coming to Israel is not rejecting America. It is embracing a choice tobecome whole in a way that life outside of Israel cannot provide. Thatdoesn't mean life cannot be fulfilling for a Jew outside of Israel. Millionsof Jews can attest to the fact. It certainly doesn't mean that life inIsrael is easier or safer or more lucrative than life is elsewhere.
Israel is a troublesome, hard, often irritating place. It is a young countrythat belongs to an ancient, eternal people who are all imperfect. Some Israelis, particularly those who today occupy the seats of power, are weakand irresponsible and often corrupt and self-serving.
Israelis have quick fuses. Among other things, this distinctively Israelirush to anger makes being stuck in rush hour traffic a bit like dancing awaltz in the middle of a shooting range. Then too, service is not a conceptthat most Israelis - particularly in service professions - are even vaguelyfamiliar with.
Beyond the general fallibility of Israelis, there are the wars and thehatred and the terror that make up so much of life in Israel. Beingsurrounded by enemies and living in the midst of jihad-crazed Arab states islike sitting on the edge of a volcano. And rather than acknowledge thedanger and contend with it, Israelis - frustratingly and dangerously - moreoften than not blame one another for the heat while ignoring its source.Yet once a Jew catches the Zionist bug, none of that is important.
Once a Jew allows himself or herself to feel the pull of our heritage, of ourlanguage and our land, the frustration, danger and hardship of living inIsrael seems like second nature - as natural as breathing in and out.
I recently moved to a home on the edge of a valley filled with forests andcarpeted by wildflowers. Every day I hike for an hour or two along thetrails below. A few days ago, as I walked late at night, I considered thedark and silent hills surrounding me and felt safe. They were liberated in1948.
As I stood for a moment, I thought to myself, "These hills have already beenconquered for you, by people better than yourself. Now it is your job tokeep them safe for the next generation. And it will be the next generation'sresponsibility to keep them safe for the following one."
The thought filled me with a sense of privilege and peace.
People ask me all the time why I insist on living in Israel. Usually I justshrug my shoulders and smile. I, a woman who makes my living from words,find myself speechless when challenged with this simple question.
I spend several months a year away from Israel working. But every time I goaway on a long trip, inevitably after three weeks or so, I begin to feelincomplete. I start to long for the smells of Israel. My ears ache to hearHebrew all around me. I want to go back so I can walk down the streets on Friday afternoons and smile at perfect strangers as we bid each other Shabbat Shalom.
Why do I live in Israel? Because Israel lives in me, as it lives in allJews. It is who we are. And those of us lucky enough to recognize this truthand embrace it in all its fullness and depth are the luckiest Jews in theworld.
Caroline Glick is deputy managing editor of The Jerusalem Post. Her JewishPress-exclusive column appears the last week of each month.
The Luckiest Jews In The World
_____
By:Caroline B. Glick Wednesday, April 23, 2008
_____
I just published a collection<http://www.israelbooks.com/bookDetails.asp?book=659&catId=1&gclid=CMuU5vLO15ICFQQPuwodSyKb5w> of my essays in English. Each time I am asked if I amalso releasing the volume in Hebrew I feel a pain deep inside me when Ianswer that no, right now, my publisher is only interested in an Englishedition. Indeed it is a shame because I wrote most of the essays in Hebrewas well.
Writing in Hebrew is a qualitatively different experience than writing inEnglish. Hebrew is a more compact language than English. It has fewer wordsand the words it has are denser and more flexible than English words. A1,200-word essay in Hebrew will be 1,800 words in English.
This is a mechanical difference. But there are deeper distinctions as well.One level beyond the mechanics is the multiple meanings of Hebrew words. Thedensity of meaning in Hebrew is a writer's dream. Nearly anyone can imbue aseemingly simple sentence with multiple, generally complementary meaningssimply by choosing a specific verb, verb form, noun or adjective. Thesedouble, triple and even quadruple meanings of one word are a source ofunbounded joy for a writer. To take just one example, the Hebrew word"shevet" means returning and it also means sitting. And it is also a homonymfor club - as in billy club - and for tribe.
In 2005, the IDF named the operation expelling the Israeli residents of Gazaand Northern Samaria "Shevet Achim," or returning or sitting with brothers.But it also sounded like it was making a distinction between tribesmen andbrothers. And it also sounded like "clubbing brothers."
As this one example demonstrates, one joyful consequence of the uniquedensity of the Hebrew language is that satirical irony comes easily to eventhe most dour and unpoetic writers.
For a Jew, knowing, speaking and writing Hebrew is an intimate experience.This is particularly so for those of us whose mother tongue is not Hebrew -because as the secrets of the language slowly reveal themselves to us wefeel we are discovering ourselves.
Hebrew encapsulates the entirety of the Jewish story. Modern Hebrew inparticular is an eclectic amalgamation of classical Hebrew, Yiddishisms, andexpressions from the Sephardic Diaspora experience. Greek, Roman, Aramaic,Turkish, Arabic and English expressions meld seamlessly into the stream ofwords. It is not simply that it is the language of the Bible. Hebrew is alsoan expression of the unique culture of a small, proud, often besieged, oftenconquered and permeable people.
Its power to explain that cultural experience and that historical baggage issomething that often leaves a newly initiated member of the Hebrew-speakingworld gasping in a mixture of disbelief and relief. It is unbelievable thata language can be so immediately and unselfconsciously expressive offeelings that have traversed millennia. Understanding its power as a tool ofexpressing the Jewish condition is one of the most gratifying discoveries aJew can make.
But the experience of speaking in Hebrew and of living in Hebrew isincomplete when it is not experienced in Israel. It is one thing to pray ina synagogue in Hebrew or even to speak regular Hebrew outside of Israel. Theformer is a spiritual duty and a communal experience. The latter is a socialor educational experience. But speaking Hebrew in Israel is a completeexperience. Hebrew localizes the Jewishness, Judaism and Jews. It anchors usto the Land of Israel. Taken together, the Hebrew language and the Land ofIsrael stabilize a tradition and make the Jewish people whole.
I write all of this as a means of explaining why a Jew in the Diaspora,particularly the United States, would want to live in Israel. LeavingAmerica is difficult on several levels. In my own experience, it involvedphysically separating from my entire family. It also involved cutting myselfoff from my language - English - and immersing myself completely in a tongueI had yet to master. Beyond that, it meant leaving a country that had doneonly good for me and for the generations of my family who fled to Americafrom the pogroms in Eastern Europe at the turn of the twentieth century.
As someone who loves me told me 17 years ago as I packed my bags for anunknowable future, "People don't emigrate away from America. They beg tocome to its shores."
But would it be right to characterize leaving America as an act ofingratitude? Do Jews have to reject America in order to go to Israel? No, wedon't.
Coming to Israel is not rejecting America. It is embracing a choice tobecome whole in a way that life outside of Israel cannot provide. Thatdoesn't mean life cannot be fulfilling for a Jew outside of Israel. Millionsof Jews can attest to the fact. It certainly doesn't mean that life inIsrael is easier or safer or more lucrative than life is elsewhere.
Israel is a troublesome, hard, often irritating place. It is a young countrythat belongs to an ancient, eternal people who are all imperfect. Some Israelis, particularly those who today occupy the seats of power, are weakand irresponsible and often corrupt and self-serving.
Israelis have quick fuses. Among other things, this distinctively Israelirush to anger makes being stuck in rush hour traffic a bit like dancing awaltz in the middle of a shooting range. Then too, service is not a conceptthat most Israelis - particularly in service professions - are even vaguelyfamiliar with.
Beyond the general fallibility of Israelis, there are the wars and thehatred and the terror that make up so much of life in Israel. Beingsurrounded by enemies and living in the midst of jihad-crazed Arab states islike sitting on the edge of a volcano. And rather than acknowledge thedanger and contend with it, Israelis - frustratingly and dangerously - moreoften than not blame one another for the heat while ignoring its source.Yet once a Jew catches the Zionist bug, none of that is important.
Once a Jew allows himself or herself to feel the pull of our heritage, of ourlanguage and our land, the frustration, danger and hardship of living inIsrael seems like second nature - as natural as breathing in and out.
I recently moved to a home on the edge of a valley filled with forests andcarpeted by wildflowers. Every day I hike for an hour or two along thetrails below. A few days ago, as I walked late at night, I considered thedark and silent hills surrounding me and felt safe. They were liberated in1948.
As I stood for a moment, I thought to myself, "These hills have already beenconquered for you, by people better than yourself. Now it is your job tokeep them safe for the next generation. And it will be the next generation'sresponsibility to keep them safe for the following one."
The thought filled me with a sense of privilege and peace.
People ask me all the time why I insist on living in Israel. Usually I justshrug my shoulders and smile. I, a woman who makes my living from words,find myself speechless when challenged with this simple question.
I spend several months a year away from Israel working. But every time I goaway on a long trip, inevitably after three weeks or so, I begin to feelincomplete. I start to long for the smells of Israel. My ears ache to hearHebrew all around me. I want to go back so I can walk down the streets on Friday afternoons and smile at perfect strangers as we bid each other Shabbat Shalom.
Why do I live in Israel? Because Israel lives in me, as it lives in allJews. It is who we are. And those of us lucky enough to recognize this truthand embrace it in all its fullness and depth are the luckiest Jews in theworld.
Caroline Glick is deputy managing editor of The Jerusalem Post. Her JewishPress-exclusive column appears the last week of each month.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Article for Rothberg Register (Alumni Newsletter)
I will tell you now that I am indebted to all of the Israelis not just the selected few here for sharing their lives with me with excitement. These people shaped my perspective of Israel and now I see Israel as a complex, multilayered society of individuals, not as the “ Holy Land ” that American Jews see. In no way can American Jews and Israelis be considered as “one” people in which the concept that my seminar, “American Jew and Israeli Jew,” with Dr. Schmidt explored. Each new Israeli I met everywhere surprised me with their own opinions, personalities, backgrounds, and self-confidence of their identity as Israelis.
From mid-March to mid-April, I lived in a black-hat world down in Kiryat Wolfson in a rental apartment with my step-grandfather, Zev, and my grandma for a month. Zev currently describes himself as “just Jewish” but was very observant Orthodox when he lived in Jerusalem back in 1980s. In Israel , he transformed into that Orthodox that his friends in Jerusalem knew and that my grandma and I had never known. He went to the synagogue on Shabbat mornings. He wore a kippah 24/7. He insisted that Grandma and I observed kosher and customs strictly inside the apartment and in his presence. We socialized with his old Orthodox friends who made aliyah over the years. I gasped in amazement when I saw their walls littered with family photographs and listened to the wives’ matchmaking stories. One Shabbat, a friend told my Grandma at Mister Zol’s why his cart was filled with soda that his “wife was setting places for 25 people!” I had become so accustomed that when my dad came to visit and flipped on the TV on Shabbat, I got upset and left the room! Having a taste of their lives as a Reform Jew, I became more respectful and accepting of the Orthodox and it served me well for my Jerusalem ulpan roommates and close family friends of my other grandfather in Jerusalem.
In June, I spent 4 days in Haifa with a real Israeli family. The immigrant parents hardly spoke English and they had four children-3 daughters and one son around my age. Everyone except for the son was very secular and only kept kosher out of tradition, not because of the Torah. On Shabbat we drove out to Caesarea while the son stayed home. There, I heard a mix of Arabic, Hebrew, and English chattering and laughing among 30 or so family members of the Iraqi clan. Skewers of tasty chicken and beef piled high, more delicious homemade falafels than I could count, and the tables strained under tons of rice among other food. The warm atmosphere was so unlike I had seen in America- it was not feeling of a family reunion but a family tightly connected by regular gatherings and over-involvement. In addition, the mother became my new definition of “Jewish mother.” She would cook endlessly, put huge portions on my plate (“because I need to be big and strong!”), doted on me, and watch every movement that I made around the apartment. Nevertheless my Hebrew improved thanks to her.
Between the two extremes, I found my happy medium with my host Israeli-American family who lived on a kibbutz in Herzliya. I saw them every few weeks or so and stayed for Shabbat and Shavuot. The mother, Linda, an American olah, and I used to take walks around the kibbutz and picked avocados, lemons, and other fruits from the orchards while talking about issues and my questions about Israel that I could trust her to give me an unbiased view. She and her Israeli husband, Shlomi, looked after me as one of their own children. I hung out with the children just like any other friends of mine. The kibbutz’s atmosphere gave me chances to reflect upon my experiences in Israel and how I changed every time I visit these people over seven months.
When Linda, Shlomi, and I parted at the airport, they looked at me with such pride and tears in their eyes. Remembering the first time I met them on my first night in Israel , they said I came a very long way and were extremely proud that I managed to survive the rumbles and tumbles of this country. As excited I was to go back to America , I had an emotional breakdown during the take off. I had fallen in love with the world that I created for myself in Israel through difference experiences that I encountered.
From mid-March to mid-April, I lived in a black-hat world down in Kiryat Wolfson in a rental apartment with my step-grandfather, Zev, and my grandma for a month. Zev currently describes himself as “just Jewish” but was very observant Orthodox when he lived in Jerusalem back in 1980s. In Israel , he transformed into that Orthodox that his friends in Jerusalem knew and that my grandma and I had never known. He went to the synagogue on Shabbat mornings. He wore a kippah 24/7. He insisted that Grandma and I observed kosher and customs strictly inside the apartment and in his presence. We socialized with his old Orthodox friends who made aliyah over the years. I gasped in amazement when I saw their walls littered with family photographs and listened to the wives’ matchmaking stories. One Shabbat, a friend told my Grandma at Mister Zol’s why his cart was filled with soda that his “wife was setting places for 25 people!” I had become so accustomed that when my dad came to visit and flipped on the TV on Shabbat, I got upset and left the room! Having a taste of their lives as a Reform Jew, I became more respectful and accepting of the Orthodox and it served me well for my Jerusalem ulpan roommates and close family friends of my other grandfather in Jerusalem.
In June, I spent 4 days in Haifa with a real Israeli family. The immigrant parents hardly spoke English and they had four children-3 daughters and one son around my age. Everyone except for the son was very secular and only kept kosher out of tradition, not because of the Torah. On Shabbat we drove out to Caesarea while the son stayed home. There, I heard a mix of Arabic, Hebrew, and English chattering and laughing among 30 or so family members of the Iraqi clan. Skewers of tasty chicken and beef piled high, more delicious homemade falafels than I could count, and the tables strained under tons of rice among other food. The warm atmosphere was so unlike I had seen in America- it was not feeling of a family reunion but a family tightly connected by regular gatherings and over-involvement. In addition, the mother became my new definition of “Jewish mother.” She would cook endlessly, put huge portions on my plate (“because I need to be big and strong!”), doted on me, and watch every movement that I made around the apartment. Nevertheless my Hebrew improved thanks to her.
Between the two extremes, I found my happy medium with my host Israeli-American family who lived on a kibbutz in Herzliya. I saw them every few weeks or so and stayed for Shabbat and Shavuot. The mother, Linda, an American olah, and I used to take walks around the kibbutz and picked avocados, lemons, and other fruits from the orchards while talking about issues and my questions about Israel that I could trust her to give me an unbiased view. She and her Israeli husband, Shlomi, looked after me as one of their own children. I hung out with the children just like any other friends of mine. The kibbutz’s atmosphere gave me chances to reflect upon my experiences in Israel and how I changed every time I visit these people over seven months.
When Linda, Shlomi, and I parted at the airport, they looked at me with such pride and tears in their eyes. Remembering the first time I met them on my first night in Israel , they said I came a very long way and were extremely proud that I managed to survive the rumbles and tumbles of this country. As excited I was to go back to America , I had an emotional breakdown during the take off. I had fallen in love with the world that I created for myself in Israel through difference experiences that I encountered.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Who's a Jew?!
There was an article in NYT about two weeks ago revealing the whole thing about Israeli Orthodox rabbis and Jews trying to get married in Israel. It was mostly about non-Israelis who got Israeli citizenship because someone in their family was Jewish but then they find out that they can't get married unless their maternal grandmother was Jewish.
I mean, who still has all those documents? It would be totally awesome to learn more about my grandmothers' families in Russia but how the heck am I supposed to find some kind of proof if it was all the way back to 1800s? I've learned while in Israel in my class with Dr. Schmidt and from Nate that everyone really has their own definition of being a Jew- who's good and who's bad. There's just no wrong answer in Judaism. But I'm not sure if I can accept the Russian Jews' biazzare definition of who's a Jew- they say that anyone's a Jew if they feel "Jewish." Even those who converted are most definitely considered Jew. If you marry a goy, and they feel Jewish, then they're Jewish.
I'm disappointed in the article though- they didn't include more Israeli perspective, especially the sabras. It would be such a huge offense against the Israelis to be told that they're not Jewish than for the American Jews because for god's sake, they live in the HOLY LAND. For them Israeli = Jewish = Israeli. It would be like telling an Italian that they're not Catholic.
Some people asked me if it was really true and usual in Israel... of course it is. You can't go by a week without hearing something relating to that question of "Who is a Jew?" The debate is just as hot as it is here, especially in Jerusalem.
It's what makes living in Israel such an amazing place. You're always in the face of controversy (though it does get tiring at times). You have Jews from all over the world who somehow managed to get their Israeli citizenship through one way or another. You can observe how Jews live their lives differently from others. It's a picture of the Diaspora today.
I've decided NOT to go back to Israel for graduate school. I've been advised against it for several reasons with one of them being the loss of funding at Hebrew University in areas that I want to study in. Sure, I'm there for two years but what's going to happen to the faculty? Things can happen fast. Also I realize that I don't study very well when there's a lot of distractions, especially warm weather. I'm from the cold so hanging out on the beach is like absolute paradise for me. So it is much easier for me to just to go back to Israel when I've finished my PhD and can work. How I managed to do well in my classes is still beyond me even though I did have to repeat that Aleph course (And course, by then, July got to be pretty hot!!). But I can't see myself struggling like that for two years. Cold weather really keeps me inside.
But I will be going back this summer to spend a little time with people and take ulpan again. I will either be in Haifa or Hebrew U. I think I want to try Haifa for a change and it works in my schedule better. I'll miss my friends at Hebrew U but I'll be in Jerusalem a week before so I'll get to see them. Also by going to Haifa, I can spend my afternoons at the beach! Also I can sort of juts get away from the haredim who totally clog up the bus routes.
I mean, who still has all those documents? It would be totally awesome to learn more about my grandmothers' families in Russia but how the heck am I supposed to find some kind of proof if it was all the way back to 1800s? I've learned while in Israel in my class with Dr. Schmidt and from Nate that everyone really has their own definition of being a Jew- who's good and who's bad. There's just no wrong answer in Judaism. But I'm not sure if I can accept the Russian Jews' biazzare definition of who's a Jew- they say that anyone's a Jew if they feel "Jewish." Even those who converted are most definitely considered Jew. If you marry a goy, and they feel Jewish, then they're Jewish.
I'm disappointed in the article though- they didn't include more Israeli perspective, especially the sabras. It would be such a huge offense against the Israelis to be told that they're not Jewish than for the American Jews because for god's sake, they live in the HOLY LAND. For them Israeli = Jewish = Israeli. It would be like telling an Italian that they're not Catholic.
Some people asked me if it was really true and usual in Israel... of course it is. You can't go by a week without hearing something relating to that question of "Who is a Jew?" The debate is just as hot as it is here, especially in Jerusalem.
It's what makes living in Israel such an amazing place. You're always in the face of controversy (though it does get tiring at times). You have Jews from all over the world who somehow managed to get their Israeli citizenship through one way or another. You can observe how Jews live their lives differently from others. It's a picture of the Diaspora today.
I've decided NOT to go back to Israel for graduate school. I've been advised against it for several reasons with one of them being the loss of funding at Hebrew University in areas that I want to study in. Sure, I'm there for two years but what's going to happen to the faculty? Things can happen fast. Also I realize that I don't study very well when there's a lot of distractions, especially warm weather. I'm from the cold so hanging out on the beach is like absolute paradise for me. So it is much easier for me to just to go back to Israel when I've finished my PhD and can work. How I managed to do well in my classes is still beyond me even though I did have to repeat that Aleph course (And course, by then, July got to be pretty hot!!). But I can't see myself struggling like that for two years. Cold weather really keeps me inside.
But I will be going back this summer to spend a little time with people and take ulpan again. I will either be in Haifa or Hebrew U. I think I want to try Haifa for a change and it works in my schedule better. I'll miss my friends at Hebrew U but I'll be in Jerusalem a week before so I'll get to see them. Also by going to Haifa, I can spend my afternoons at the beach! Also I can sort of juts get away from the haredim who totally clog up the bus routes.
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