My son loves Pesach cereal

Where did I go wrong?

Stick a fork in us

We are done

It's official. Israel has become a watered down, highly pathetic, and very poorly dressed copy of Ameropue.

I get the whole celebrity obsession thing in America. In the States, if you can't find something to excite you then life gets boring. Some people get excited by fishing, others learning, and some people (O.K., just women) get their kicks out of flipping the pages of PEOPLE.

But in Israel you don't need to look far for excitement. In fact, life would be a whole lot better if it were a tad more boring. Shouldn't nonstop violence lend some perspective?

Somewhere in shamayim the Satmar Rebbe is telling Ben Gurion, "I told you so."

p.s. I know that I am a bit behind the times with this story. Gimme a break. I got two babies.

On Jaywalking and Other Pointless Topics

A few random thoughts from the holy land:

1. When it comes to jaywalking Israelis just don't get it. Memo to Israelis: When there are no cars coming down a narrow street it is o.k. to walk to the other side. CROSS THE STREET!!! You are blocking my way.
Actually, some Israelis take it to the extreme and decide that they have nothing to fear from multi- ton vehicles hurtling their way at fifty miles an hour, and cross right in the middle of oncoming traffic. Let's find a happy medium guys.

2. Yes, I know that my son/daughter is dressed too warmly/not warm enough/too girly/not feminine enough/ and is leaning out of the stroller/walking when he should be in the stroller/poking his sister's eyes out/pulling her brother's hair or is lagging behind developmentally/too developed (???)/not talking enough/talking too much, but thank you random stranger for pointing that out.

3. My Hebrew officially stinks and I am awful at learning languages.

4. Apparently, my community's idea of a beautification project is creating intricate patterns of dog excrement on the streets and sidewalk. This type of creativity soars way over my head, but then again, I have never been a big fan of modern art.

5. The human ego's desire for cheap feelings of superiority knows no bounds. In my case it is Israeli self righteousness syndrome (which I am hoping will be inserted into the DSM V). It is so incredibly easy to fall into this trap, which I vowed to avoid. However, I occasionally catch myself looking at a group of American tourists and saying to myself in a sinister voice, "Ha, ha, ha, those foolish, petty Americans." Which is exactly how every real Israeli looks at me.

That is all for now.

Things that annoy me.

This annoys me.

Is Early Childhood Too Early for Hebrew?” This was the question posed by Tani Foger, EdD, a 2006 graduate of Azrieli Graduate School of Jewish Education and Administration and a school psychologist, at the inaugural colloquium of the new Fanya Gottesfeld Heller Division of Doctoral Studies at Azrieli Graduate School on Dec. 5...

Dr. Foger, a special education expert, focused her presentation on the immersion method of teaching Hebrew to preschoolers.

“Hebrew immersion programs in early childhood education will ensure that our day school graduates have a vibrant, facile and working relationship with the Hebrew language,” Dr. Foger said prior to the colloquium.

I really don't have anything useful to say about teaching American preschoolers Hebrew. It might be a good idea or it might not (all I remember from my preschool yeas was that I could master nuclear physics if cookies were involved).

What ticks me off is that there is a need for this. What ticks me off is that a conference needs to held in order to determine why kids can't speak Hebrew. What ticks me off is that after ten years of Hebrew classes I still futz around in the language. "Um ani rotzeh, I mean ratziti, I mean... Do you speak English?"

I have a question for the panel. How can it be that a day school student goes through ten years of Hebrew classes, gets straight A's, and cannot put together a coherent sentence? Forget about me for a second-- I was an awful, lazy student-- but I had friends who actually cared about school and got good grades. Their Hebrew is no better than mine.

The title of the conference should have been, "Why do our Hebrew classes stink?"

In my opinion there are two reasons. First, the stuff that is being taught has virtually no relevance to the actual spoken language. Kids come into tests knowing how to differentiate between poal and nifal, but really have no grasp of their practical ramifications. The second reason that the classes stink is that usually the teachers stink. When I was in school Hebrew teachers were almost always the rabbis who either did not speak enough English, or were not charismatic enough to give shiur... or both.

What we have here is ambivalence. On one hand modern orthodox schools are tied down to their bread and butter. We love the state of Israel, it is reishit smichat geulateinu, go buy Israel bonds, yada yada yada. Consequently,it would follow that it is pretty important to learn Hebrew. On the other hand there is still a small voice inside of them that cries Torah shebeal peh has been our legacy for two thousand years. Let's concentrate on that." So what then do we focus on? Learning Hebrew, or being Jewish? The answer? Neither.

The school that isn't concerned with this dilemna(and most of you can figure out which I school I am referring to) has no problem teaching their students Hebrew. They are quite certain which is more important. Ambivalence is the greatest obstacle to achievement. Take away the ambivalence and their is no problem achieving.

I am in no way suggesting that this school should be the model. However, if the modern- orthodox schools believe that learning Hebrew is important than what is needed is not to teach Hebrew in preschool. What is needed is Hebrew classes that don't stink.

Missing Out

I have already wrote about missing family and friends as a result of living thousands of miles (or kilometers I should say now) away.

Today specifically is very hard.

A very good friend of mine, let's just call him Chambre (to protect his identity), is getting married.

In lieu of embarrassing him in front of twenty friends at his aufruf I will embarrass him in front of the 100 or so anonymous and semi- anonymous people who stop by this blog (at least when my dad links to me).

I first met Chambre in summer camp around 10 years ago. One of my first memories of our friendship was when he checked me so hard during a hockey game that I literally flipped over. That's the kind of friend he is. In Yeshiva, Chambre was one of the few guys who did not think that I was out of my mind, and that a three- foot beard was actually a trendy fashion statement.

The Maharal explains the meaning of "u'kneh lecha chaver" in pirkei avos to mean,

"sheyihye nikneh lo chaver, shelo tusar hachaveiros mimeno clal (that the friend should be acquired to him, so that friendship will never leave him)."

Chambre is a friend in this classic sense, extremely loyal and honest. Our friendship is one of kinyan. He is the ultimate good guy.

As I said, not being there for this one is extremely hard, but we will be doing rikudim here in the holy land.

Mazel Tov

Question of the Day

Does Hebrew sound dumber in an American accent or a fake Israeli one?

What is currently missing

in yiddeshkeit

Musings

Spurred by a discussion on the internet about quantum mechanics my Dad posted his own deep thoughts. (Linking to my Dad is kind of pointless-- you probably all just came from there-- but whatever)

Maiseh avos siman labanim.

How can it be that Israeli meat is so much worse than American meat? I mean a cow is a cow, no?

IH adds:
On the subject of meat, to simplify the confusing Israeli Hashgachot they should put different types of yarmulkes on the chickens. The Eda Charedit will be represented by a large velvet yarmulke, Agudas Yisrael a Ramalke, Machzikei Hadas (Belze) a bekeshe, and Charlap a srugi.

Much simpler.

OOS starts work...

... and gets called an idiot

Well, not in so many words.

One of the major things taught to people involved in counseling is a pregnant pause. The counselor is supposed to interpret the meaning of the clients pause-- in other words, what is going on while nobody is talking.

One of the populations that I work with is the "shut- in" population. These are people who, for whatever reason never leave their houses. One of the first clients I recieved was a shut in. I called him to set up an initial meeting, and I spoke with his wife. We set a time, and our conversation continued:

Me: O.K. so 4:30 then?
Her: Yes
Me: And your husband will be home?
(pregnant pause*)
Her: Um, yeah

*pregnant pause interpratation: Of course he is going to be home you dimwit. He's a shut- in, where else do you think he'll be???
I think I want a new social worker.

An auspicious begining.

Family

One of the most difficult aspects of making aliya is, of course, leaving behind family. Olim who came here thirty years ago might read this, chuckle, and make a derogatory remark about the fragility of this generation's olim. And truthfully, they would have a good point. We are blessed with 516 area code phone numbers, internet video conferencing, and all the other goodies that vastly diminish the size of the world. So perhaps we are weak.

Yet there is something that cannot be overcome with any type of technology, which is the feeling of belonging that is present in an effective family system. Those sensations of togetherness and ease one feels at family events and smachot. A 516 phone number is good for venting to parents, and video conferencing enables my mom to see how chubby OD is getting, but no matter how hard anyone tries, we will inevitably feel somewhat excluded. It is nobody's fault, just the pitfall of living thousands of miles apart. It is the sacrifice that must generally be made in order to move Artza.

(Note: I am talking about cohesive families like my wife and I grew up in. I am sure that there are many people who move to Israel for the specific purpose of getting away from their families.)

The feelings of exclusion also exist with friends. No matter how many times promises were made to keep in touch I know that the decision to make aliya was also a decision to cut ties with 70% of my old friends. The fact that I am notoriously antisocial does not help. Because I am antisocial before we made aliya it would have been nearly unheard of me to call a friend just to chat. Yet, over the past two months I have found myself doing just that. The beginnings of our conversations usually have usually gone something like this (let's pretend my last name is Smith):

Me: Hi Friend its OOS.
(pause)
Friend: OOS? Really? How are you doing? It’s great to hear from you.
Me: Yeah it’s good to speak to you too.
Friend: Wait, OOS Smith?

I make these calls and go against my nature because I feel myself being cut off even from good friends. These feelings of exclusion are one of the things that are anticipated at the outset of aliya, yet cannot be fully grasped until it actually happens.

So olim of thirty years ago laugh all you want, but a local area code can only do so much to narrow the vast distance that we have traveled.

Welcome to Israel you foolish American Part I

One of the first things that I learned about Israel is that no matter what a business or organization might say their working hours are, you always call ahead to make sure. When a business puts out its "business hours" it is more of a suggestion than an actuality.

So it was that when we signed up with Kupat Cholim Macabi (medical insurance) I called up the Macabi office to make sure of the hours and to clarify some issues with respect to the insurance.

A little background is in order: In general I try to speak Hebrew every chance I get in order to improve. However, when I take care of important or official matters I prefer to speak in English so that there are no foul ups.

Because I was fully expecting to speak in Hebrew with Macabi I was surprised to hear an automatic voice say, "For English please press 1." Quite pleased and somewhat relieved I pressed 1 and waited. After a minute, a woman got on the line for English speakers, and this was our conversation:

Me: Shalom
Her: Shalom
(pause)
Me: Um, at midaberet anglit? (Do you speak English?)
Her: Lo (no)
Me: O.K.-- Yesh mishehu sham sh'midaber anglit? (O.K., is there someone there who speaks English?)
Her: Lo

Checking in

It's been awhile.

Sorry to all of you who depend on me (Hooie), but I have been extraordinarily busy and have had no time to write.

Anyway, it seems that we have finally settled into somewhat of a routine, and things are slightly calmer than they were. I cannot say that we have fully adapted, because we still often feel like we have landed on some bizarre planet where nobody has manners and yelling is a way of life. But we are slowly getting into the thick of things. Truthfully, I don't think that we will ever fully adapt. My wife and I will always retain some America in us.

I have no energy to write Aliya Recap part II right now, but I do hope to finish it. I also have a number of extremely funny stories that must be shared, and I hope to accomplish that as well in the next few days.

Other than that what can I say? The kids are doing great, IH has put in superhuman effort to get us settled and she has been amazing.

Actually I can say something else: Despite all the stupidity and annoyances that we have put up with, and despite our lack of fluency, and despite the fact that we really have no friends in our community (you see we are the only ones who don't smoke weed), there is no feeling like walking down Rechov Betzalel or Sderot Herzl or any other street in Yerushalayim and knowing that we are here to stay. That makes it all worth it. From time to time one does get the feeling of living in the palace, as corny as that may sound.

Well, that is all for now. I hope to be back soon (because some of these stories that I've got really must be told)

Have a good Shabbos

The Magic of the Chagim

Call me corny, but I love that, in Israel, Coca-Cola bottles wish everyone a Shana Tova.

Aliya Recap Part I

Although we are still very much in the midst of the klita (absorption) process, much has happened since we arrived here two and a half weeks ago. It has been unbelievably hectic and we are far busier than we have ever been in our lives.

Here is a basic rundown of our experiences:

Our flight was scheduled to leave Tuesday, September 5th. On Sunday our real estate agent called to tell me that there was a slight problem with the apartment. The previous tenant, who is actually the son of the landlord, had not yet moved out. He assured me though, that he would fix everything and that the apartment would be empty by the time we arrived in Israel. Trusting that he would work it out I went to sleep Sunday night without any worries (This was an enormous mistake by the way. I was subsequently told that rule number one of buying or renting a place in Yerushalayim is that you never, ever believe what the realtor tells you.).

On Monday morning the agent informed me that, unfortunately, the tenant would not be out by the time we arrived, and it actually might be a while before he could leave. I will spare you the sorry details of the craziness that followed, but suffice it to say that the day and a half leading up to the flight was not pleasant. In the end we were not able to move in to our apartment. Fortunately, my sister in law and her husband are spending the year learning in Yerushalayim, so we were able to take over their, at the time, unoccupied apartment.

In any event, on Tuesday we boarded the Nefesh b' Nefesh flight somewhat discouraged but nevertheless excited for what lay ahead. With two kids under the age of 18 months, the older one being sick, we expected a difficult flight, but were heartened by our assumption that we would not be the only ones with crying babies on the flight. Things started fairly smooth. Our son (OS) was slightly cranky during takeoff but nothing major. However, it soon became apparent that he had no intention of going to sleep in anything but a crib. He began to cry hysterically; at one point he cried for an hour and a half straight (literally). Finally, with an hour and change left to the flight we overdosed him with Advil and he fell asleep. His parents were not so lucky. Our- at the time two month old- daughter, on the other hand was a complete angel and we did not hear a peep from her the entire way.

Landing was very nice, as was the reception we got at the airport (although we were a little too tired to appreciate it). The program was a real bore-- as the last flight of the summer we were given the low level bureaucrats. What happened after though is where things got interesting. A major perk of flying with NBN is that much of the paperwork is taken care of on the plane so that the olim do not have to wait for hours at the Misrad Hapnim. However, we were informed on board that the Misrad hapnim was under staffed and the paperwork could not be accomplished on the plane, but would have to wait until the airport. Fine- annoying, but not a big deal. We ended up waiting on lines in the airport for over three hours. Fine- the kids were ok so again, not a big deal. However, after the three hours of waiting we went to get our bags, and, lo and behold, one of them was missing (we still have not recovered it). That was the straw that broke the camels back. We soon realized that the bag contained our son's portable crib, and he would have nowhere to sleep. Consequently, while sleeping on a mattress placed on the floor he woke up in the middle of the night.

So, after learning that our apartment was being illegally occupied, frantically running around between the doctor and the pharmacy two hours before the flight, enduring eight hours of crying on the flight, plus three hours of waiting after the flight, losing a bag, and not sleeping for 36 hours, OS decides that two AM is a good time to get up.

But it was all good.

Coming Soon: You silly Americans

Back Again

We finally got our internet up and running after two weeks of being cut off from the world.
I do not have time to post now but I have no shortage of material that I will iy"h post about.
In the meantime kesiva vechasima tova and shana tova