The Star Film Ranch, San Antonio, Texas - 1911
Dear Into Israel Readers,
All my Love and as always—
Shalom,
Barbara Permilla Roth
INTENTION Monday, Apr 4 2011
By Aaron Weinkrantz
Mark Wills - I Do (Cherish You)
Dear Into Israel Readers,
Location: Austin, Texas, SXSW
Pedi-cabber Aaron, my son, picked up two pretty girls during the recent Interactive/Film/Music festival, and headed for their destination. The following conversation ensued during the trip.
Aaron: “Where are y’all from?”
Girls: “Eh… Mexico.”
Aaron: “Don’t lie to me. I know you are not from Mexico.”
Girls: “Okay, you’re right, we’re from Israel!”
And then they chatted in Hebrew and English the rest of the trip.
What was that about, what happened? Does anyone want to call it out what it was, what it is?
Yes, we know Israel gets her share of negative press, regardless of this press being right or wrong, it is negative. Israelis are sensitive to this when they leave the borders of Eretz Yisrael.
But that is just the surface explanation, because Israel is now code for Jews. Heaven forbid the world should utter anything negative about Jews for that would make them appear unkind and anti-Semitic, but Israel, well, Israel is fair game.
In a few weeks I will be posting my peace plan, The Persistence of Peace. I have chosen a date that is special to me to publish, and it also coincides during the Lord’s Feast of Unleavened Bread. The plan is about Disassociation and Acknowledgement.
And this is what ultimately occurred during this trip. These three young Jewish people, our future, represent us as they traveled down the road together with the moonlit night guiding their path.
Since I have returned to the diaspora, friends and family have asked me what are the biggest changes coming back? They know better than to say coming home!
I love the United States, I love Texas, and I love Israel. There’s a saying that every man, adam, loves two women, the bad girl versus the good girl. The one his mother wants him to marry, and the one his mother does not want him to marry. It relates directly to a running theme in the Tanakh originating in Breishit with The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.
We tend to focus on the good and the bad, and skip over and dissociate away from an important clue of what it is intended for us—the meaning of the Knowledge. In essence, every man loves three women, the good one his mother wants him to marry, the bad one his mother does not want him to marry, and his Intended love, the one his neshama desires to marry. Yet too many do not.
It was like I was on a slow moving train traveling at twilight during the first fortnight of being back in the States after I was gone for over a year with no break. I’m all settled now back in the groove of living in Austin, back to my own dissociation, but I can still recall with clarity what I was thinking and feeling those first few weeks.
A close American friend in Jerusalem has this saying, “Israelites are People of the Book, and Americans are People of the Checkbook!” There is without question a sense of wealth when you arrive in the United States; there is this perception that the priority is towards money. And it is not that there are no poor amongst us in the United States, or the very rich in Israel, it is about the priority and Intention.
Wanting to have money is a Universal theme; we need it to live. The US personifies kind and benevolent people, yet somewhere a shift occurred that to be successful in life meant having money, and preferably lots of it. The poor are viewed as not living up to their potential, and that translates to money and that is equated with the value of a person.
In Israel many of the Hasidim don’t work, and devote themselves to the studying of the Torah, and they live off a stipend from the government. Some of the fortunate ones may have a small teaching job, but most barely make ends meet. The Ministry of Finance has run the numbers, and knows this can’t go on or the country will go broke.
Yet Israeli secularists do not look down upon them as if they are not living up to their potential. Actually just the opposite view is taken as the secularists lament why should they pay for someone to live up to their potential while the rest have to go to work! One’s potential in Israel is not tied to money. Money is money, and value is value. They are separate.
I was not at home when the news came about the bus bombing in Jerusalem, and I went out to my car and sat there. I felt deep sadness within me, and anger outside. I was distraught towards my self for being here, and I apologized to YHVH. I wanted to scream, and I did.
All roads lead in and all roads lead out. The area from the Jerusalem Central Bus Station, CBS, and extending down Yaffo Street to the Shuk symbolizes the crossroads of the Jewish People. Maybe at one time it was Egypt, or Babylon, or even New York City, but no longer. It is here, and it is forever here it will remain.
Often, whenever I had to transfer from either another bus in town or coming into Jerusalem from an out of town bus, I transferred at CBS. I would choose between the #13 or the #74 which both stopped one block from my apartment. I liked the #13 because it was a few steps closer and less crowded, but if I saw the #74 turn the bend onto Yaffo St., I ran for it. On Shabbat day I would walk down to my friend Yonit’s home on Kaspi St. These walks through Baka are some of my most beautiful memories. The air was clean and crisp, and the streets were clear with mostly pedestrians such as myself out for a leisurely Sabbath stroll. Yonit and I would sit on her balcony overlooking HaShalom Forest and talk about all the things one should discuss on Shabbat, and then fully satiated from her cooking she would walk me to the #74 stop after darkness came and the buses had started running again post Havdalah. Many times it was cold and I would plead with her to go on home, but she always waited to see that I was on the bus safe and sound, and we wished each other a Shavua Tov. I would sit in a front seat near the driver, and would wave good-bye to her. Hence, I took the #74 all the time, and it was #74 the terrorists bombed.
The entire infrastructure of the United States is run on Oil. From the method of transportation, mainly cars, that people take to get to work, to the distribution of goods that people rely on, to the deployment of our Troops that protect and defend us, are all dependent upon Oil. If restricted, our system would go haywire, and wreck untold havoc.
With a few exceptions, the United States has not taken the steps to implement a mass transportation system for its citizens. This has left us vulnerable, although most do not want to acknowledge it. Yes, we admit we need to decrease our dependency on oil, but we definitely don’t Acknowledge our vulnerability.
If you think this is not possible, then think back to the 1979 oil crisis, and if you are not old enough to know or remember it, review it. Multiply it by ten and then you’ll get an idea. If you don’t think this is possible then reflect how warning bells had been sounded prior to the economic collapse that there were massive dangers in the secondary mortgage market, but no one wanted to step up to the plate and Acknowledge it. There was too much money in it.
Now granted, Israel is incredibly smaller in geographical size to the United States, but one of the things that began from her statehood was the requirement to be as self-sustaining as possible. This wasn’t just for altruistic reasons; they had to be.
Israel continually receives substantial monetary allocations from the United States. Whether this two-way street is worth the US’s ROI is a matter of opinion. I only pray that we never have to find out for either side. It’s like insurance; you pay and you pay, but you hope you never have to file a claim.
The Middle East, and the World at Large is in turmoil. From now on, we’ve entered the homestretch and are headed to the finish. Which ones of us will make it across the line, and which of us will not? I have no idea when this will occur, but it will be sooner than later, nor individually who that will be, but the successful ones will be the ones who are the most prepared. It will be the ones least Disassociated and most Associated to Elohim, and the Acknowledgement of the One who at the end of the day rules the World.
Shalom,
Barbara
WAITING Sunday, Dec 12 2010
Watching and Waiting-The Moody Blues
Dear Into Israel Readers,
It is amazing how easily one can slip back into their previous life. Or so it seems on the surface.
I have lived in Austin four other times. This is my fifth time, and most likely final time. Each occasion represented a different moment in my life; this time is no exception.
Dining the evening before the day I left Israel on December 1st, I sat surrounded by friends at the cozy Karma restaurant in Ein Kerem. From there I had gone directly to Ben Gurion airport for my flight.
Before my departure, I was busying myself with all the necessary tasks to complete. I had not made any definite living arrangements in Texas; I was going with the flow. When I was younger I would get anxious not knowing the road up ahead, and wanted Life orderly, and now both calm and excitement exist within the intrigue of the potential knowledge.
It was a glowing, gentle descent into a sunset arrival of the distant Austin downtown and Hill Country skyline. Aaron, my first-born child, was waiting for me at the airport with a smile that said, Mom, I knew you would be back. We drove immediately non-stop, immediately that is after providing my contact information for my missing luggage, to Chuy’s to eat enchiladas. Jet-lagged, I kept saying ken, lo, & todah rabah to the attentive Hispanic waiter at Chuy’s. “Mom, he doesn’t know what ken and lo means,” Aaron responded. “Interesting,” I said, “He appears that he does.”
Noshing on chips and salsa, Aaron wanted to know where I was going to stay, and I told him I didn’t a clue. I would get a room somewhere to crash and sleep and call his grandparents and wait for my luggage. I texted my best friend at Bocachica, and told her that I had just arrived back in the States, and inquired if one of her two gorgeous guest apartments there were available, and by the time the check came she had texted back—yes, the maid was just here today, come right over, I’ve been emailing you, where you have been?
I had initially not intended to live back at my beloved Bocachica, but had set my sights on living in far south Austin to be closer to getting out of town towards San Antonio where my daughter, Lauren, and most of my immediate family resides. Yet within minutes after I arrived at Bocachica, with one candle lit for the first night of Chanukah and a glass of wine in-hand, my friend told me that my favorite apartment, one of her two guest apartments—the one I had always adored, mind-you, had just become available. She was giving it up and she had emailed me about it, but I had been in-flight, so I had no knowledge of it. The above image shows the apartment furnished at present, and my furniture arrives in a month. Of course, I took it, and will move in 1.1.11.
The Bocachica, circa early 1960’s, is a crescent shaped two-story complex of 25 apartments set on two and half tree-covered acres situated between two cliffs on an inlet from Lake Austin in a private town, Westlake Hills, just to the west of Austin. The winding and hilly two-lane road in and out of our compound can be quite treacherous, so the only safe way to come and go is by car or by canoe! Bocachica is unique, bucolic, and very Bohemian. Very.
Sleeping soundly through the night, I arose the next morning to buy a car. I had emailed my contact that had sold me my last vehicle, a royal blue Mercedes Kompressor. I had also sold it back to her before I left for Israel. This time I wrote her exactly what I was looking for, but I hadn’t heard back from her till hours before I left Israel. She had indeed found the vehicle in Dallas, and didn’t want to let it go while waiting for a response from me, so she had already had it shipped to Austin. It was waiting for me, washed, buffed to an inch of its young life, and with a full tank of gas.
Aaron drove me over to test-drive it, and sign the paperwork. In 24 hours I had leased my favorite apartment, and purchased a beautiful steel blue Benz sedan.
Sensing that all this accomplishment was a little too easy and surreal given hours before I was in my apartment on Jabotinsky walking the streets up to the Shuk, and riding the bus across the Land of Israel, I was waiting. Waiting for that moment of truth to surface, waiting for the reality to hit of the Love I had left. It wasn’t a long wait.
I called my father to tell him about the apartment and the car, and all he was talking about was “The Fire.” I kept saying, “Dad, Dad, please slow down and back-up, I don’t know what you are talking about, what fire?” “Barbara, haven’t you heard, Israel is on fire and many people have died,” my father passionately replied.
Within a few hours of my departure, the devastating fire in Israel would begin. I could not bring myself to turn on the HDTV hanging in my gorgeous guest apartment to watch the news.
My Heart hurt. I sat transfixed out the picture window at my treed environment far from the raging inferno, and reflected back on my day trip to the north with a blazing clarity. I remembered in-depth as if was indeed that very day when I got off the bus in Karmiel, and the pretty real-estate agent who was pregnant with her first child picked me up and drove me around to look at properties. We had talked and laughed like we were friends that had been re-united after a long absence. I remember how she had called me weeks after my trip to tell me about other properties, and to introduce me to Americans that were living there. It wasn’t about making a sale; it was about Belonging. I could hear it in her voice.
I have signed up for the Texas Real Estate course, and I start my first class tomorrow. If I do finish the course, and become an estate agent, I hope my business will be about that, and that my voice will not be focused on the commission but about being a guide for a client’s belonging.
I was always meant to live in Israel, and I was meant to return to Texas. What the future, what the road up-ahead holds, I don’t know. That, dear Into Israel readers, is The Intrigue. Stay-tuned.
Shalom,
Barbara
STAR LIGHT, STAR BRIGHT Thursday, Nov 11 2010
My First Golan Sunset
Dear Into Israel Readers,
This is most likely my last post to you before I leave from Israel for Texas. I say most likely, because I’ve come to understand that while we attempt to plan and forecast our future, there are heavenly signposts along the way that we dismiss with our earthly eyes. Of course, we should plan and there is inherent goodness in doing so. We just need to ensure that we know that sometimes plans go awry, or they seem to, but alas they are probably not, as in saying ‘Man Plans, God Laughs.’
I’ve been touring and traveling a lot before I depart, soaking Israel all into me. I went over to Ein Kerem, once a distinct town southwest of Jerusalem, but now more of a suburb. I like the artistic flair and tucked away remoteness of the village. After my visit and lunch, I was waiting for the bus that goes back into town, and it didn’t arrive according to the schedule.
As I waited, more and more people arrived, and we waited together in the quietness of the surrounding hills of Ein Kerem. Most of the young people stopped cars and hitched a ride along the winding road that took them where they needed to go. I didn’t even consider hitching a ride, although I secretly wanted to experience the freedom to be young again and go wherever and whenever you wished without Fear. Eventually, almost a full hour after the scheduled time, the bus arrived.
Had I known then what I know now! Not long after the Ein Kerem experience, I had to hitch a ride. And then it wasn’t a case of a couple of miles back to the main road. I was in the Golan, far from a town or rest-stop, and I had to flag a car by myself. It is a story for the memory books, or if I’m fortunate, the grandchildren!
It occurred during a road trip, but this is not a story I will write about today. It’s a story best told not written, so I hope to see you soon dear Into Israel readers where we shall sit and drink coffee or wine or both, and I shall start at the beginning.
I loved the Golan Heights. It was the peak of my time here. It is an area I know from my childhood and the Texas Hill Country—expansive spaces, vineyards doting the countryside, large green oak tress, pastures and cattle, yes cattle! This experience transcended even my continual feeling since arrival of belonging to that of “Oh, this is where I am supposed to be—You are Here, Barbara, dear child, you are Home.”
The stars are brighter in the Golan, and their beauty misted my eyes. By the time I left Teveriah by bus back to Jerusalem, darkness had set in. An old man got on the bus, and as I glanced up I knew he was going to sit next to me, and he did. He looked as though he had been a general once before, probably shared a drink or two with Moshe Dayan. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, for I wanted to grasp all that had occurred with and in me that day. He got a call from someone named Miriam, and I wondered if she was his wife, his daughter, or perhaps a girlfriend? At the very least, someone was checking in on him. A young rabbi came on board, and sat down opposite the old man, and soon they were in a low-level conversation that took both of them all the way to Jlem. I didn’t understand what they were saying, but yet I did. As I gazed at the emerging stars above and the twinkling lights of the enclaves below, the above song was playing on the bus. I could do a whole documentary on my bus ride experiences overlaid with an incredible soundtrack supplied by the English songs they have chosen to have on file.
I am leaving Israel, but I am not saying good-bye, that would be impossible. I don’t know if I will return to live, to visit or only to be buried, I only know I will return.
Perhaps it is the revolution that people talk about. Most people make the revolution—back and forth, several times before they say, “Okay this is it, the end of the road, now I stay.” Maybe that will be me. Maybe secretly that is what I want, and maybe it will be like Ein Kerem, and the play is already in motion. Our deepest Love never departs, and when you realize that the signposts are truly there, then you begin to recognize them, and plan accordingly!
BeShalom & Ahava,
Barbara
MEANT TO BE HERE Sunday, Oct 10 2010
- Jerusalem Sunset
One of the Most Beautiful Songs Ever!
Dear Into Israel Readers,
I was all set to go. The bright blue day was gorgeous, not a cloud in the sky. My teary farewell with my family was behind me when the captain on my plane in San Antonio interrupted my thoughts of Jerusalem, and told the passengers we weren’t going because there was a sizable storm stalled right over the Atlanta airport.
So back we went to the gate, and my sister came to fetch me. The connecting flight to Israel had even been cancelled later that evening, so even if I had made it to Atlanta, I wasn’t set to go after all.
I finally left two days later, and now I am here—Home in Israel, writing to you once again after such a long delay that I apologize for. I have to be in the zone to write, and there just wasn’t time or place in the whirlwind of my trip for me to get to that zone.
Indeed, I needed those two days to just be before I returned. I had already said all my good-byes, had my bon voyage dinners, and was completely packed. So I wandered my childhood home, shared quiet alone conversations with my parents, and stared out the window at the big sky, and thought and thought.
Dear Into Israel readers, I am here for only two months, and then I will be returning to Texas. It is not that I don’t love Israel, you know better than that. And for all the posts that I wrote to you about why I came, it was a calling.
There will probably never be a day in my remaining life that I won’t think about Israel, and my time spent here. I will revisit each moment over and over again, recalling times thought long forgotten.
Had I the slightest thought I would be returning to the States, I would never have shipped my belongings, and even though the cost is high, they provided comfort and continuity. Together we left, and together we will go back.
There is no way to write the words where I could adequately express what this past year has meant not just to me, but more importantly, for me. A year ago I couldn’t even conceive that I could be writing this post to you.
I had a calling to come to Israel to become closer to God, and I am blessed I picked up the call. I am still in many ways the same Barbara, and outwardly there may not appear a difference, but inwardly I have become me for the first time in my life. I am so thankful for this.
We are all messengers of God. Each of us has our own unique message to share with the World. I knew before I came that my message from God is embodied in Persistence of Peace, the essay I have written about Life, about God, about Peace.
I also know now that Persistence of Peace was a work in progress, and that I was called upon to come here to live. God knew it wouldn’t have been possible for me to experience this knowledge on a ten-day tour or a three-month summer abroad and what was needed, what was required, was for me to become an integrated part of Israel. When I leave I will be leaving on my Israeli passport, and when I have completed Persistence of Peace, I will share it with you.
In many ways, these next two months will be very much like the two days I spent between flights. We think we know so much, and we think we are the ones in complete control, and we think we are all set to where we see our lives headed, yet in the end God always reveals and surprises us with the actual truth.
Here, I thought all along that my beginning was my Aliyah. And I see that it is only now after I have been in Eretz Yisrael for over a year that my beginning is just beginning.
I’m coming upon this serene setting in my neshama, and it is here that I realize I’ve always rushed ahead to write the storyline of my life in my movie where the lead actor cast by my imaginative mind and the lead actress playing my hidden heart acted out my directions. Only till now, just now, I’m beginning to behold the pureness of each moment as my soul emerges as the rightful author to glimmer upon the intended story as it embraces the lives of others in our movie.
Shalom,
Barbara
Summer In The City Thursday, Aug 12 2010
Temple & Old City replica at the Israel Museum
Dear Into Israel Readers,
Now that my one-year anniversary has passed, I will still write to you from time to time, but I will be changing course a bit. With this new direction, I hope to submit more photos to you of my life here in Israel.
Summer evenings in Jerusalem are gorgeous. After the blazing sun goes down, the cool desert wind blows in, and everyone just wants to venture out and have fun; Israelis love to have a good time!
Soon enough will be the solemn days of the High Holidays. In the mornings now I hear shofars being practiced. If my memory serves me correct from last year, we went straight from summer to cold, and oh, how I remember the cold so well in this town where my bare feet could never touch the frigid stone floors!
Yet now it’s all about having fun! This past week were two major enjoyable events. The first was the Israel Wine Festival at the newly opened Israel Museum. It had been closed for several years with a multi-million dollar makeover, and it is stunning. The wine festival was outside, so when I return from the States, I plan to go back to tour the interior exhibits. I went to this festival with three friends, one from England, one from the US, and one from Russia. All three made Aliyah many years ago, so they are all fluent in Hebrew, and knew a lot of people at the Festival. We had a blast!
The second event was the Jerusalem Arts & International Festival. This is a very-well attended event for the region. It is like an annual mini World’s Fair, and people come to exhibit and sell their products from all over the world. All the food is incredible, and yes, all Kosher!
I went to this festival with a friend visiting from the States for the summer who is based out of an apartment overlooking the Mediterranean. When something is exciting in Jerusalem, she comes over for it.
The festival was just a few blocks from my apartment, and the backdrop was the Old City! Each night they have a new musical performance. We walked from one end of the festival to the other, but still on the way home we weren’t tired, so we stopped at the outdoor cafe at the King David Hotel that was made famous in the movie Exodus for a drink.
Next post, dear Into Israel readers, I will be visiting in Texas! Have a cool one waiting for me, bevakasha!
Summer In The City—Lovin’ Spoonful
Shalom,
Barbara
PEACE שָׁלוֹם SHALOM Friday, Jul 30 2010
Dear Into Israel Readers,
It came, and it went. My one-year anniversary of my Aliyah was yesterday, July 29th, and I chose to revisit my path of that first eventful day. Well, sort of revisit; I made some changes!
I wish I could have an actual video recording of the two separate days, because what a contrast they would be. The only thing that wasn’t changed was that I loved Israel deeply that first evening, and I still loved her deeply yesterday, even more so.
You can never live with your love always in Stage 1. Sooner or later you must kick it up to Stage 2, and it is always in Stage 2 that literally sets the Stage for the rest of your relationship. If the relationship has what it takes, then it ascends to Stage 3. It appears rather complicated, and often can be, but in essence if both parties really are serious about wanting the relationship to work, then it will, but it does take both.
I left mid-afternoon down King David Street over to Mamilla Mall. Before, a year ago, I had gotten lost and twisted in a myriad of streets as I tried to find my way to the Kotel. Now, I easily know the path. Before, I was wearing inappropriate shoes, stylish, but inappropriate, and that pair of shoes was quickly relegated to a back part of the closet. Now, I was wearing stylish shoes with a durable non-slick surface. I would be able to skip down the slippery steps in the Old City. Before, I was carrying a gorgeous and new leather purse that didn’t have a long shoulder strap. Now I wore a lightweight cotton bag bought in a London flea market for $1.00 that was swung over my shoulders to keep my arms free. This bag & I have walked the streets of Jerusalem together this past year. Before, I carried no water, and now I couldn’t even conceive of leaving my apartment further than a stone’s throw without my water.
Before, July 29th was actually Tisha b’Av so all the shops in Mamilla Mall were closed. This year, it wasn’t Tisha b’Av so I left early to do some shopping which usually amounts to only books. Books are my luxury. I bought a Philip Roth novel on sale. Then I proceeded to the Kotel. It still amazes me how crowded the women’s section is compared to the men’s space. It is just not right. But these days there are so many things not right with the Kotel. What a year this has been for our Kotel Ma’ariv.
For me, the Kotel is special, of course, because it is close to where our Temple(s) stood, but it is a wall, a retaining wall at that. I feel that the Holiness we want to attach to it, and the feelings that accompany this attachment are misplaced. We need to look inward for our Holiness, and not necessarily outward.
Before, my message was lengthy and in English, and now it was in Hebrew and short—to the point—Shalom. I sometimes wonder what might occur if all of us everyday just entered Shalom as our message. Everyday. We both have to want it, remember, and we know The One wants it, so it is we that really have To Want it, not just talk about it, fundraise for it, wish for it, or the worst, just wait for it. We have to want it now, not tomorrow, not next week, not next year, now. Oh Lord, please, Now.
Later, after my visit to the Kotel, I returned to Mamilla Mall to meet a friend at a cafe and watch the sun set. We went down to the German Colony and had pizza outside surrounded by French, English, Russian, and Spanish speakers who are all probably, too, in some varying stage of what I am going through, and then I went home and got into bed, listened to the nighttime sounds outside my bedroom window, and thanked God for being in Israel very much like I did a year ago.
My friends here, and I have been so fortunate to make some good ones, are rallying around me these days, because they know the signs. They are aware of them, how to spot them, and know that at any moment they could come down with them too. For you see, dear Into Israel readers, out of the blue as if right on cue, I came down with a huge case of missing my Loved Ones.
The Aliyah information preps you for this and makes you aware of this condition, but all the prepping in the world doesn’t help once you’ve succumbed to it. It doesn’t matter if you come alone, or with a big family, if you are Orthodox or not, young or old. It hits virtually every Oleh Hadash or Olah Hadasha. On the day I was experiencing the worst bout of the blues, some friends took me out and I felt a bit better, and when I returned home in my email box was Rabbi Winston’s weekly Parsha that seemed as if was addressed to Dear Barbara! God’s cues are everywhere in this World, and the only difference is that here in Eretz Yisrael they are heightened.
It is not that I have never missed before, because I have, and deeply I have missed in my life, deeply, deeply, deeply. I have just never missed this many people at one time! Everyone I love is in the United States of America. Since I had never experienced this magnitude before, I had no former frame of reference to know what would happen, and it hurts; it hurts like hell. The rest of my life I will always be so empathetic to people who are lonely and/or homesick.
Focused on my Hebrew studies, I was rather thrown off course when my class ended, and then further I saw a lot of Americans going for a visit at the beginning of the summer break. My flight wasn’t till August, and quite suddenly from one day to the next I fell into being Homesick, except this is Home, and that is part of the problem, and also the fact that a lot people say your second year is your hardest, because you’ve entered Stage 2, and now you see the flaws of your loved one, and it doesn’t help that the International news media is further distorting these flaws.
The Stage is set for me; I love Israel, and for some unknown reason, and heaven knows I have tried this past year to explain it to you and myself, I feel my destiny is Here, but I also know that there will be rocky days, and perhaps even rocky years up ahead.
When that will occur, and it will, I will put on my hiking boots that, yes, I possess, and head out for this is a rocky country, and I will hike high up into the hills, and I will try with all my might to not look back for any length of time nor long for my days in Texas, but to embrace and breathe the air here, here where I belong.
I will freely cry up in the hills because to cry is to be human and to be human is to long and miss those we love, and to love, well, To Love, is what it is all about my dear lovely Into Israel readers. Thank you so much for being a part of my journey and first year here in Israel.
Shalom,
Barbara
One I Love Tuesday, Jul 20 2010
1 Aliyah, Breathing, Israel, Jerusalem, Judaism, Kotel, Love 10:10
Kibbutz Tzuba
Dear Into Israel Readers,
By the Hebrew calendar, this is my one-year anniversary of my Aliyah. It’s Tisha b’Av, and I arrived last year on erev Tisha b’Av. Yet I also arrived on July 29th, and that anniversary is next week. That’s all right; I’ll celebrate twice.
Jerusalem by dark is otherworldly. A few nights ago I was coming over the hills from the Tomb of Samuel back into the city, and I was filled with an awe of the spellbinding beauty of Jerusalem that could only be described as love. This intensity of emotion, this sensation of love both scares and excites me as it always has.
It is not the actual love that I am fearful of for the Love itself is pure and only encompasses goodness. It’s all the commotion that accompanies it. Everything in this world has the potential for good-tov or for bad-ra, and even in the blissful state of love, the ra enters curtain left to take its control over the love and the lovers.
Recently two very significant issues faced Israel and the Jewish people, and both I have touched on before. Several readers wrote to me about these topics, and so I will write to you my thoughts after living in the land for a year now. You might want to reach for a stiff drink.
The conversion bill has hit the Knesset floor again, and it has gone through so many changes that I am not exactly sure what this latest version states, but I am quite sure it doesn’t bode well for the Reform and Conservative movements of Judaism. Then, there was the deeply troubling incident at the Kotel Ma’aravi, when a Torah scroll was forcibly taken out of a woman’s arms. As a Reform Jew, it would seem plausible that I would form my allegiance to the Reform & Conservative movements in these causes, but I don’t, yet it is not that I suddenly throw my support to the Orthodox movement or Hasidic sects, because I don’t either.
Living in Israel, breathing the air and walking the streets has not altered my perspective, but only called and reached out to what was already inside of me. When I examine my writings of seven and eight years ago, I can see that this indeed was previously present, but I was not in the place, quite literally, to express it. But now, dear Into Israel readers, I am.
In essence, the rabbis of these movements are all fighting for control of the same thing, for their rabbinical interpretation of how we, as Jews, should live. And pray. And dress. And eat. And marry. And who is a Jew, and who is not a Jew. And who, where, why, when and what is Holy?
Let’s be clear about this; ultimately this is not about Reform versus Orthodox, conservative versus liberal, or American Jew versus Israeli. For even if you take out of the equation the Reform and Conservative movements, there will still be fighting between the Orthodox and Hasidim. Even if you take out the Orthodox, there will still be fighting amongst the different Hasidim sects! You get the picture.
Where has all this fighting gotten us, and where do we go from here? Well, for the first part, we must accept that as Jews we have two enemies, the one beating on the door from the outside, and the one within. It is this last one, the ra within, that is our greatest danger, the controlling one in the corner that turns us against each other.
The rabbis, regardless of whatever observance level they adhere to, along with the Oral Torah and Talmud, want to ensure their rightness from their corner, yet in another corner are those who only observe strict Torah in a Torah world where there are no rabbis nor Oral Torah nor Talmud, and thus they embrace Biblical passages that state they are the only authentic followers of God’s want of us. Then, in the last corner is the one whose hands tightly cover their ears to block out the noise from the fighting, who rock back and forth to escape the anger, and who quietly have walked away from their corner, away from their Judaism, and away from God. Still in the end, we know we are all Jews. In a moments notice, we could easily find ourselves together on the same transport going to who knows where driven by the enemy outside that finally beats down the door. Again.
We, as Jews, need to be One. God is One, and so must we be. Yet, we’re so dissociated away from God, that the manifestation of this dissociation erupts in our anger to be right, and splits us apart. Every one wants to be right in their observance level of Torah and God. This desire for rightness, and I have no idea or desire to be right as this is only my opinion, is ironically ra.
So we’re on the same Torah page, I thus believe everyone has their unique path into their Judaism, and it is our Oneness—our faith in our One God, our Oneness with Israel, and our Oneness with each other that is our greatest strength, our greatest might. So when you cry, I cry, when you smile, I smile, and when you kiss me, I kiss you, because you are the One, the Only One, the Only One I Love~
Shalom,
Barbara
Road Trip Saturday, Jul 10 2010
1 Arad, Dead Sea, Israel 01:10
Ben-Gurion National Park View
Dear Into Israel Readers,
I love Road Trips, especially in Israel, and recently I took one with my friend, Yonit, who made Aliyah from England where she was known as Jane. Actually, most Olim do change to their Hebrew names, but I had chosen not to change to Bracha upon arrival, so now many friends have taken to calling me Bar that is a popular, modern Hebrew girl’s name. Yonit and I set out early from Jerusalem, and arrived back at midnight.
It was wonderful to get away from the city in a car, and I was most impressed with the roads. New paved surfaces greeted us at every turn. Also, there were plentiful gas stations/convenience stores where you can sit outside and eat. At these stops, people get ice cream or a cold drink and visit with each other all the while trying not to think about how much their fuel is costing.
Our first stop was Ben-Gurion National Park where both David and his wife, Paula, are buried. It offers a quiet, sweeping vista to the beginning of the Negev. We arrived at the park still early so it was vacant, and I found it peaceful. I immensely enjoy nature days, and I long to sleep outside under the stars in Israel.
Path at the Park
The Negev is hot, the Israel hot I keep forgetting about while living high in the hills in Jerusalem. Betty, the name I gave to Yonit’s car, had an ice chest plugged into the lighter, so we were good-to-go on both cold water and watermelon for the trip. From the park we ventured over to Be’er Sheba to see Yonit’s daughter who lives there. She and her boyfriend cooked up a delicious lunch for us—grilled chicken and rice with Israeli salad.
Yonit is thinking of possibly moving to Be’er Sheba, so we toured neighborhoods that are a contrast from Jerusalem’s neighborhoods. Be’er Sheba is mentioned in the Bible so it has an old heart, but it is also a new growing city that has space where there are neighborhoods that are similar in style to American neighborhoods that have sprung up, literally out of the desert, and some of these expensive enclaves reminded me of Palm Springs!
Yonit made sure that Bar had a Beer Break!
Then we headed to Arad near the Dead Sea, and along the way we picked up a hitchhiker, Elana, a polite young woman that made Aliyah when she was seven years old with her parents from Russia. Now, normally in the States, I would not even think for a second of picking up a hitchhiker, but here in Israel it is common and everyone does it; it’s part of the culture.
The first time I was with someone and we did it, I was nervous, but now I’m used to it. My only request is that when I’m in the car, we pick up only girls, although I’ve never heard of any problem with the guys, many are soldiers just on their way home to see their family.
Elana was on her way to the Dead Sea, and since Yonit and I hadn’t scheduled any definite plans for the evening, we decided to go along to the Dead Sea, too! Yet first we all stopped at a lovely boutique hotel in Arad, Yehelim, because Yonit knows the owners.
It was a perfect afternoon resting place to watch the afternoon light glide across the hills to sunset. Yehelim is a gorgeous get-a-way, close enough to the Dead Sea, yet tucked away from the sea’s touristy pace. The drive down from the hotel to the Dead Sea was my favorite part of the outing.
Boutique Hotel, Yehelim, in Arad
A fantastic conversationalist, Yonit is intelligent and witty, and all during our trip we had been discussing Torah. She puts forth interesting analyses, and I try to uphold my end of the dialogue. We don’t always agree, but we laugh a lot. It might seem unusual to laugh when discussing Torah, yet Yonit has a way to do it with her British accent!
By now on this drive, all of us, including Elana, had become the best of friends, and our conversation turned mystical. The road itself was mystical—empty, dark, and winding with mountain ranges on both sides.
As we twisted and descended towards the Dead Sea, here we were, three Jewish women all from different parts of the world, mystically sharing about life and love. And Peace, always Peace.
I can’t rewrite the past, nor can I project the future, although at times I am tempted to do both. I only know that for these days, these present days I am living, I am where I am supposed to Be.
Shalom,
Barbara
First & Last Days Friday, Jul 2 2010
Bat Yam Mediterranean View
Dear Into Israel Readers,
Wednesday was the last day of Alef Plus, my first Hebrew class. Actually, I have previously studied Hebrew many years ago for my B’nai Mitzvah. My teacher then, Rachel, was excellent and it was from that foundation that I ventured into my first Ulpan course. So in essence, I have had two full years of Hebrew. Add to those classes, Milingua, the on-line course I took during Ulpan to supplement my Hebrew study, and you would think that I would be speaking Hebrew—Ivrit fluently.
Well, think again! Here’s the best way I can describe my level—I’m in good shape for the shape I’m in! Following is the good and the bad about learning Hebrew from my Texas—English perspective.
I’ll begin with bad and get that out the way, because there is good. Hebrew is a difficult language to learn, and most language experts list Hebrew near the top of the difficult list. As I have written before, Hebrew uses a different Alphabet than English, goes in the opposite direction, and utilizes the feminine and the masculine in nouns, adjectives and verbs. Vowels are not included in the written text, and it also has letters that have guttural sounds who for someone unaccustomed to them pose an extra task.
After much thought, pondering and deliberation over many cappuccinos, I can now see and understand where I hit a brick wall obtaining fluency in languages. All the foreign languages I have studied—Spanish, French and now Hebrew employ the feminine and masculine in the majority of their words.
My reading is better than my speaking, because when I start talking my mind is clueing up ahead to the right word, and then it also has to make the adjustment for both the feminine and masculine and for the singular and plural. For me, this is like a deal breaker since I am already dealing with sentence structure and those guttural letters. My mind is thinking in English, “Please explain again just why we’re doing this, because you’re giving me a head-ache putting me through all kinds of gyrations that I’m not digging?”
Of course, this time it is different than when I studied French and Spanish. Then I took the courses, passed the tests, and spoke a tiny bit here and there. No big deal—adios and au revoir to any concerns. Now, as if speaking to a child, I must gently yet firmly tell my brain, “You must do this, and you will be rewarded later,” i.e.—clean your room, and you then you can go outside and play. All this internal self-talk leads me into the good part of learning Hebrew, and into why quite possibly I even made Aliyah.
It is only understandable that when you move to a country outside of the country of your birth, you would want to learn the language of that country. Obviously it would aid your transition and adjustment, and with respect to Aliyah to Israel, that indeed is the case. Yet being Jewish and learning Hebrew is not only about learning Modern Hebrew that I will speak when I walk the streets or sit in cafés, but it is also studying Biblical Hebrew that will guide me when I lie down or when I get up.
Do you remember how I mentioned near the start of Into Israel that I could list all the reasons I thought I was making Aliyah, but I knew instinctively even then that the true reason or reasons wouldn’t surface till later? Well I am just now on the verge of gaining insight that was unbeknownst to me.
Before when I studied Torah and my Tanakh, I would glance over to the Hebrew on the right side of the page occasionally. I knew enough then to pick out a word or passage to tie it into my studies. Yet now, the higher I go with my Hebrew studies, the greater the right side is awakening, and this is tov.
Though, with this goodness, I have questions and concerns about many of the English Tanakh translations that are, without a doubt, off. I want to know just why this occurred, and the answers I am being given at present are not sufficient. All this studying, questioning and introspecting can sometimes lead to frustration.
When I sense being overwhelmed, I go out in the cool evening air and meet friends for dinner. There, we can endlessly chatter on in English, and oh what a delight that is after hours of Hebrew study! After visiting I return out into the even cooler air and starlit night towards home, feeling fortified for the days ahead, and knowing that I am living in this Awakening, the First Days of my Life.
Shalom,
Barbara
