Move to Yehud Monosson, Home of Kaden Mizrahi, June 1st, 2016

June 1^st, 2016

Move to Yehud, Home of Kaden Mizrahi

Thanks to Miriam Albachari, Ofra’s childhood friend, I was fortunate to meet Kaden Mizrahi, an 80-year old widow from Turkey, who offered to host me in her home in Yehud, two months after the loss of her 63-year husband, David, z’l.  I bet you are anticipating problems: an elderly widow, in mourning and likely having care needs.  Well, I thought the same way, but I have been pleasantly surprised to discover that Kaden is a young at heart senior who in spite of her monumental loss still has the ability to embrace life, cook, clean, socialize and take care of others. She is inspirational. 

After coming to an agreement regarding my accommodation, I debated whether or not I should defer my move to Yehud to August.  I wanted to enjoy two months on my own renting Vera’s apartment in Hertzelia. Vera is a friend of my previous landlady, Shula, also from Russia.  My relationship with Shula was awkward, to say the least, and the stress I experienced for several weeks living under her roof increased my sensitivity towards any type of living scenario that would hinder my happiness. For that reason, I was skeptical about my move to Hertzelia, yet I remained steadfast to my decision to move there, for the sake of “keeping my word.”  I don’t like letting anyone down, but soon I realized that the person I was letting down was me.  This realization came to the fore a few days before my move, when I received an email from Vera, asking me to sign a contract she had prepared without my consent.  First, the contract stated an inaccurate rental fee, obviously higher than the one we had agreed on. Then, the currency used was Euros, not shekels, not dollars, I mean Euros!  Since when do I work in Euros? Also, the contract stated that if a second person were to live there, the fee per night would be the equivalent of $70 US per night.  By the way, this clause was added as a result of my innocent comment that perhaps one of my friends or daughters from Vancouver would visit me over the summer. Do I need to say more?  The contract became in fact, the deal breaker.  I am kind, trusting and honest, but certainly not stupid when it comes to recognizing a bad move.  I came to the conclusion that my relationship with Shula had contaminated my business agreement with Vera, all the more reason to run.  When I shared this story with my friend Sahava from Vancouver, she stated the magic words... “Violetale, this was not supposed to be in your living the dream agenda... Get yourself out of this place soon!”  Thank you my Sahavele!

Forgotten Suitcases Recovered by the “Mishtara” (Israeli Police)

I moved to Yehud on June 1^st, a day I will remember for some time because of the adventure that took place during and after my move.

The move was scheduled for the afternoon. The idea was that Avi, Miriam’s husband, would come to me after work and help me move to Yehud, the city that also happens to be his home. By the way, Kaden is Avi’s aunt, thus the connection.  The night before the move I packed everything neatly and left it by the door.  In the morning I went to the Ulpan, and planned to return to the home as late as possible, so as to avoid spending time in this “unwelcoming” space. I got there one half hour before Avi arrived and managed to bring to the lobby most of my belongings, except for two suitcases that I left for the end given that they were easier to move.  I eventually made my way down in the elevator carrying the two last pieces of luggage. When the doors opened, I saw Avi trying to get into the building, so rather than take the suitcases out of the elevator, I ran to open the front door. Greeting Avi I lost awareness that the elevator doors had closed behind me leaving no visual clue of their load.  Avi efficiently “schlepped” my cargo to his car, and asked me twice... Violeta, are you sure you have everything?  I went back, not once, but twice, and of course, the lobby was clean of my belongings.  By now you can imagine the rest.  After getting to Yehud I counted suitcases and said to Avi... where are the other ones? He laughed and I thought that he was joking.  He assured me he wasn’t.  I then recalled the elevator’s doors closing behind me with my “misvadot” (suitcases in Hebrew).  I am not done.  Avi and I managed to recover my suitcases. By then it was 9:00pm.  Where were they?  They ware taken to the police station. The neighbors called the police when they saw them in the elevator, a move that is common in Israel. By then, the suitcases had undergone two inspections, one preliminary and the second took place at a security facility where often times, through the aid of a robot, the police decides to explode unidentifiable packages and bags considered potentially dangerous.  My bags were not bombed, but were cut open and red tapped.  The police trusted me once they saw my face of disbelief and honesty.  On the way home I felt so stupid and was very worried about Avi, who had been on his feet for 15 hours.  Seeing my concern Avi stated – “Violeta, in the 60+ years I have lived in Israel I have never stepped foot in two police stations in one day.”  Thanks for the exciting adventure.”  There is a good friend for us!

My Relationship with Kaden, My Landlady

Before moving to Yehud I knew that Kaden was from Turkey and that she spoke Ladino, but never did I imagine that knowing her would move me so deeply into the sweet memories of my childhood.  I have been questioning whether this move happened by chance, or it is part of G-d’s master plan.  I yet don’t know, but what I do know is that every day I am becoming more and more fond of Kaden.  Why? With her words and actions she constantly brings me back to the bittersweet memories of the home I grew up in Mexico City, and more specifically, my grandmother Violeta, also from Turkey who spend her weekdays at my home working side by side with my mother helping her with household duties, cooking, mending socks, crochet knitting and drinking Turkish coffee every afternoon.  Kaden is a replica of my grandmother, not only for her cooking, but also in the way she thinks, talks, and lives her life.  I constantly laugh at Kaden’s expressions in Ladino, most of which are fresh on my min, and others asleep in my memory drawer. Kaden is a natural caretaker, and seems to love my company.  I say it because when I am home she makes it her business to keep tabs of where I am, what I am doing, and constantly calls me to have coffee or food with her.  I confess that this is driving me a bit nuts, as I love my space and privacy, but I am embracing the experience as I know it is temporary. Besides, a part of me really likes the place I am in, at least for a little while.  What is most important, is that I am in a safe place, and appreciate the kindness and generosity that is given to me on a silver platter. Kaden basically treats me like family, is proud to introduce me to her circle of friends, and is caring and kind.

Several of Kaden’s friends have come to the home to visit, and while I try my best to stay away from their business, they seem to welcome my company.  I overhear them speak about cooking, people they know, activities in the social group. It sounds so sweet, two women whose lives are nearing sunset, yet feeling connected, alive and vibrant as anyone person.

Kaden sings to herself, and I often find her laughing in front of the TV.  She has cried with me a few times, mourning the huge loss of the love of her life, but with incredible wisdom states, “noanada que hacer, esta es la vida, cualo voya ser?

Translation: There is nothing to do, such is life, what can I do?

During the month of June Kaden has included me in her activities. First, she invited me to a pot-luck at her “Moadon” (social club for seniors), to celebrate the festival of Shavuot. A senior Rabbi gave a short introduction to the meaning of the holiday and a gifted guitarist/singer treated the crowd with classic Israeli tunes that almost brought me to tears.  In the midst of the emotion my eyes travelled around the room full of old faces, still displaying the beauty traits of youth. I imagined seeing my mother, who never reached old age, sitting in the crowd and mingling with her Turkish peers. Being a guest, I was the focus of attention and enjoyed it.

Kaden, social butterfly

Given that Shavuot Eve fell on a Saturday night, I was stuck at home without public transportation from Friday through Sunday.  I tried to find ways of solving this problem, but was unsuccessful, and without much fuss came to accept my being home without a plan.  Kaden appeared in my room stating that I was not going to be alone, because she got me invited to the home of her relatives who celebrate the holiday with a festive meal.  I loved every minute of this gathering and was moved by the family unity, feeling of peoplehood, beautiful surrounding, abundance of food and drink, and one of a kind hospitality.

Kaden with her sister and brother in law

Kaden Mizahi

On June 14 I decided to accept Kaden’s invitation to go on a group field trip to the pool.  We spent a few hours in a recreational facility enjoying the outdoors (barely coping with hot weather), and mingling with a variety of seniors, all different, but yet all the same.  The highlight of my day was being able to swim lengths for 40 minutes and feeling refreshed for the rest of the experience.  The group travelled by tour buses, carrying approximately 100 seniors all living in Yehud.

xx

It is hard to believe I have only been in Yehud two weeks, and I already feel at home and connected to some of Kaden’s friends.

In conclusion, Kaden brings me to the crib of my upbringing, and reminds me of the language, philosophy, cooking, ideology, and lifestyle where I became a teen. Above all, I feel grateful for my good fortune, as I landed in a safe and caring environment where I can be me.

Here are some scenarios that help describe Kaden to my readers.

,

Kaden is speaking in Ladino:

 “Violeta, queres comer?  Ven hiya, ya t’escapates, es muncho tiempo en el “shiur” anda, ven a comer. Ya te vasa embezar.”

Translation: Violeta, do you want to eat. Come my daughter, you did enough, you have done a lot of homework, come, let’s eat. You are learning.

Kaden is schlepping a bucket filled with water with pine cleaner, she drags two sweepers with damp towels under them and says...

“Viola, yala, uno tuiunuyo, vamos a limpar, pormo que es Shabbat, cualo dos muyeres que no manque ya cae que limpimos un poco, yala chic, chac.”

Translation: Viola, come on, one you and one me, let’s clean, for the sake of Shabbat. We are now two women, may we not go missing, we must clean a bit, come on, quick.

“Viola, un minutico, queres cafeico? Senta un poco, mira las jadashot, supites que un mal nacido mato a tres en Francia. Cuala maldad es esto, mato a gente inocente?  Agora el mundo esta entendendo a Israel. El Dio les esta mandando esto a quienes juzgan a Israel y les mostra lo que mosotros tenemos aqui dia con dia.

Translation: Viola, do you want coffee, come sit a bit, watch the news, did you hear that a mean terrorist killed three people in France.  What kind of evil is this? He killed innocent people.  Now the world is understanding Israel. G-d is sending this to the Countries that judge Israel, showing them what we live with every day.

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Verse recited by Kaden yesterday evening with confidence and wit.

Irme quero, madre a Yerushalaim

Comer de la hierba

Morir en la tierra

En Yerushalaim hay una alminara

Siete brazos grandes tiene

que al mundo entero alelumbra

The Kibbutz Wedding I Will Never Forget

Lucky me!  Dvora and Eli invited me to the wedding of their daughter Odeya and Ilan on May 30, 2016.  I had never been to a wedding at a Kibbutz, so I really did not know what to expect.  I suspected that the dress code was casual, considering the setting, the season, and the Israeli dress style.

Yael and I met in Tel Aviv, and together we boarded the train to Kibbutz Yavne Mizrach where the Cohen family has resided for years, where the four daughters grew up surrounded by a supportive community formed by families.

I had one visited the Kibbutz, but it was late at night and I did not get a chance to tour it. This time, Yael, who lived in the Kibbutz for two years, took pride to show me around, and before me stood a luscious piece of land, too large to cross by foot, landscaped by homes, centers, gardens, roads and streets, much like a mini city.  I am sharing with you some of the shots I took of the Kibbutz' landscape.

The oldest tree at Kibbutz Yavne

Yael Levy

Milking the goats

When we arrived Yael and I saw at a distance the wedding party gathered in the centre of the main park, green baby grass covering the ground and l a variety of trees and schrubs.  I felt emotional spotting the wedding canopy "Chupa," the synagoge style seating plan, the decorations and the coming and going of local kibbutzniks getting ready for the party, and incoming guests.  The bride and groom were set apart, men with men, women with women, and each gender catered to the ocassion to the soon to be happy couple.  There was a live band, playing beautdiful middle eastern tunes with the aid of ancient sounding instruments. The young woman flutist was my favorite.

The ceremony touched me deeply.  The whole kibbuts was invited, so all guests gathered around the canopy to partake in the great simcha (celebration).  I did my best to capture the moment through film, but my iPad ran out of memory.  However, I have lots of photographs that give you but a hint of the calibre of the simcha.  What stood out the most for me is the feeling of brotherhood in the Kibbutz, the love of the Cohen Family, all three daughters sharing their joy around the bride, the ruach of the place, like a godly setting to bring two lives together.

I am so very grateful that I had the opportunity to attend such a magnificent simcha and will cherish the memories of a wedding unlike anything we experience in North America.  It was not the elegance, the wealth, the gourmet food, the sophistication of the ceremony that touched me deeply.  It was the combination of all of the above, crowned by the feeling of mishpacha, immediate and extended that cheered a young couple into a happy life together.

May in Review

May in Review
(Written on May 30 and posted on June 12, 2016.)

Wow!  Tomorrow I celebrate my 2nd month in Israel. Time flies when you are having fun.  The month was packed with newness, excitement, emotion, challenge and inspiration, to say the least.  I will do my best to summarize the highlights.

Yom HaShoa, Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha'Atzmaut 

These solemn and heartfelt days were my first in Israel. I took in, as much as I could, the feeling of nationhood and peoplehood that these occasions bring out for all Jews, and particularly to Israelis who toil the soil, fight the war and face to rockets of fire in real time.  My experience of these occasions was enhanced by the focus given to them at Ulpan Neve Tsedek, both in the classroom and in the school assembly, activities that are bookmarks in the page of Jewish history and Jewish life.

 

I regretted that on Yom Ha'Atzmaut I did not honor my desire to join the crowd at the Rabin Plaza, where speeches, performances, fireworks and all kinds of displays took place. I chose to join Yaffa and her bohemian friends in Be'Er Sheva as it is their tradition to hold a Yom Ha'Atzmaut picnic. I thought it was better to be with friends than alone on such a special day, yet later regretted missing out on experiencing the central act that was apparently beyond amazing. Fortunately, considering my hunger for this communal experience, Yaffa convinced our hostess to drive us to the Be'er Sheva City Hall and park, where festivities were taking place, as in every city of the Country. There were thousands of families, from grandmothers to newborns, all gathered to celebrate the birthday of our young nation. Children amused themselves with fluorescent gadgets sold at the entrance to the park like hot cakes. There was a good band on stage playing groovy tunes, and vendors of various sorts, including apple candy that led Yaffa to unyielding temptation.  I truly got a gist of the feeling of nationhood and community thanks to this experience.

We slept over at Yaffa's friends, and the next day we left the house at 9:00 am to head out to reserve a picnic spot, effort that was unnecessary because there was nobody lining up to set up tent on such a distant, dusty and unbecoming land.  Food was abundant, conversation was pleasant, comfort was non-existing, and mosquitos ate us alive. However, the overall experience was very positive and I met interesting people.  In the area stood the structure of a army headquarter that housed the British troops during the occupation, and later was used by the IDF.  For this alone, I thought, the dusty road was worth our visit.  I am attaching a few shots to give you a flavour of the day.

Picking Sheshek (Israeli fruit) at Rony's home in Be'er Sheva

Ulpan Neve Tsedek

I continue to enjoy learning Hebrew at Ulpan and I am slowly getting on with the teaching style. On a positive note, I love the cultural diversity in the classroom and I am starting to connect with the students.  I  think I have made a friend, Natalie from France, whom I liked from the moment I met.  She is classy, attractive, smart and very focused to learn Hebrew. Our friendship is evolving, as we are finding out more things in common.  I am grateful to have met her.

The style of teaching continues to be challenging, as is the attitude of the teacher.  I have been "brushed off" by her a few times when I wish to share something that I deem relevant. She does not appear interested in fostering an interactive classroom, and in my books she is more of a lecturer than a facilitator.  I sense that she is married to the textbook, the lesson plan, and her narrow delivery of new information.  She does not welcome spontaneity, cuts people off, ignores others, and keeps total control of what is said and done in the classroom.  On the other hand, she is a Hebrew guru, and that counts.  Have I got a choice?  I know this is not the type of teaching I ever want to implement in my classroom.

On a positive note, Natalie and I have become good friends. The two of us enjoyed  our time together over lunch at a trendy cafe on Rothchild Boulevard, two blocks away from our school.

Housing

I will be moving out of my current apartment in the south of Tel Aviv.  My new shared accommodation will be in Yehud, an area that will require longer busing to and from school.  What is positive about it is that I will be living with an elderly lady, relative of a reliable friend, who wishes to have someone in her nice home.  She appears to be amenable, kind and clean and I have a good feeling about our arrangement.  It is hard to believe that at this stage of the game in my life I find myself sharing space, rather than having my own, but I admit that there is some excitement about it as I do not have to face the responsibility of carrying a home on my shoulders as I have for the past thee and a half decades.  Time will tell how I adjust to these change.

Discovering and Connecting with my Hispanic/Mexican Background

I took the time to visit two offices located in downtown Tel Aviv. First, Instituto Cervantes of Israel, and then the Mexican Embassy in Israel.

I visited Instituto Cervantes with Yael Levy, a lovely 24-year old girl from Spain who made Aliyah a few years ago. One would say... what is a mommy my age doing with a young lady like Yael?  Well, Yael and I are good friends, get along, speak, discuss and share a lot of things in common.  She is truly a delight and I love spending time with her.

At the institute we picked up information on the centre's activities, mainly focused on the promotion of Spanish language and culture. They have a library and a Spanish school that follows a specific curriculum.  I am to inquire further on how I can get my foot at the door to teach with them.  I was told that one needs a specific certification that is regulated by the centre's headquarters in Spain.

In one of my walks I ran into a tall building waving the Mexican flag, and I soon realized that I was in front of the Mexican Consulate.  I took myself to the 11th floor, and there I found a corner of my Mexico.  My idea was to offer them my admin services, considering my language background, but the older secretary was direct to state that they do not have any openings.  She was not particularly friendly, but offered me a phone number of the person that takes care of cultural activities.

Meeting Rabbi Miriam Gold at haHatachana

I met Rabbi Gold several years ago at Temple Sholom, in Vancouver, Canada.  She was brought in by Rabbi Bregman to talk about her success story getting the Israeli Knesset to recognize her work as a Reform Rabbi and pay her a salary equivalent to the salary of any other clergy member.

Miri lives in a Kibbutz where most members are secular, and she has, over the past several years, made a significant impact in the lives of the members, who have a Rabbi to go to, for Shabbat, Jewish holidays, and Jewish milestones.

Miri suggested that we meet in haHatachana - the old train station that was recently turned into a touristy attraction.  The tracks are still there, as bits and pieces of the original structure, and the rest is modern and trendy.  There are boutiques and a few coffee shops and restaurants with a view of the ocean, just across the road.

Our breakfast meeting was most enjoyable, and Miri showed me her support by making several suggestions.  I hope to meet her again, in the near future.

Visiting Ashkelon

The weekend of May 20th I decided to travel to Ashkelon to join a few others on an exploratory trip to the south of Israel organized by Nefesh b'Nefesh.  I was foolish to travel to Jerusalem to catch the local delegation travelling to Ashkelon, which in retrospect made me go around in circles. The small delegation (4 women and 1 man) managed to get to Ashkelon on a comfortable mini-van.  Each member was driven to different homes for Shabbat.  I ended up in the home of an American lady, Barbara Greenberg, who lives alone and was most welcoming and supportive. She prepared a simple Shabbat dinner.  I was pleasantly surprised that on Shabbat morning Barbara took me to her conservative synagogue, Kehillat Netzach Israel of Ashkelon, whose Rabbi from Argentina, is Gustavo Suraski. The service was enhanced by the upcoming simcha, bride and groom being blessed by the congregation before the wedding. It had been a long time since I went to shul, so I confess I was hungry for the ritual service, although I was disappointed that I could not follow the prayer tunes, as they were much different than my own.

After resting in Barbara's home we headed off to a Havdallah celebration at the Levine's, a couple that housed three of the guests. The walk was long and my feet were killing me, however, the walk allowed me to admire the Ashkelon landscape, a clean, quiet and modern city with a marvellous waterfront, very much asleep on Shabbat.

The social at the Levine's was most enjoyable. They are a religious couple, extremely welcoming and kind.  I learned that this folks founded the group "English-speaking Olim of Ashkelon," and are doing a good job selling the city to potential newcomers who might like a quieter lifestyle, away from the big city.  Personally, I did not feel it being a good place for me.

 

Movie, The Stars of Shlomi at Ulpan Neve Tsedek

At school we watched the movie, The Stars of Shlomi, which I had seen in Vancouver at the Jewish Film Festival, but had forgotten much of the plot.  It was great to see the film in Hebrew with Hebrew subtitles which forced us students to use all of our senses to catch bits and pieces of the dialog and make sense of the rest.  We then discussed the film in class and found this activity most enjoyable, given that the film has several layers of meaning. Some students in the class did not agree with the concept of the teacher putting on a video instead of teaching us the language first, but as a language instructor I know that in spite of the gaps and the frustration, the listening activity is one of the various effective methods of language acquisition.

Meeting Gloria and Ben at Sarona Park

I spent a marvellous afternoon with my Vancouver friend, Gloria Joachim and her husband Ben who came to celebrate his BD in Israel. Gloria has been my Spanish student, the best I have had, and her support and appreciation always warm my heart. We met at Sharona Park and our challenge was finding a restaurant that served hummus and pitta. At the end, we gave up. There was no hummus and pitta to be found in Sarona Park in the heart of TA. Perhaps the mouth-watering, high-protein, everyday bread and butter dip is not fancy enough for the high end restaurants in the area. What mattered most was our time together that flew by too quickly, together with the afternoon sun. May we meet again.mI asked Gloria to bring home a little gift for my daughters, on the occasion of my Carol's birthday.  What good timing!