June 1st, 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 1st, 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.
--------
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
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