Girls in the City

Yesterday, which was Yom Rishon (the first day after Shabbat, a.k.a. Sunday), we decided to hit the road and take the girls to Jersualem. They had been to the city before, but only at night, sleeping most of the time there. This day, we had several errands in the city and all needed a “fun” break from regular work and kindergarten.

The girls were real troopers, walking all the way into Mazkeret Batya, where we caught a sherut (mini bus) to the highway, where we could grab the bus to Jerusalem. They were very happy, though, to be able to sit down in the green cement bus stop to wait for Egged bus No. 434 and nibble some cheese and crackers.

Surprisingly, the bus was packed. Stevy and I stood the whole way and the girls shared a step that led to the last row of seats at the back of the bus. We arrived in probably less than 45 minutes. Our first errand was to cash a U.S. dollar cheque. The money changer was a friendly ex-North American, who also had the ability to deposit the money directly into our account. (A good thing since the banks here have the nerve to charge money to count cash deposits over 5,999 shekels, or about $1,500.)

Then our friend Dov picked us up and took us to the Old City. He also brought in the car a bag we had left at his place in September and which we needed to get back (errand No. 2). The bag took up most of Dov’s trunk. Dov and his brother, Moishe, own and operate Shoreshim (roots), a gift shop in the Old City. After a chat with the brothers, we headed through the winding streets down toward the Kotel, or Western Wall.

All entrances to the Western Wall Plaza are heavily guarded. We passed through metal detectors and had our bags x-rayed. The girls asked if they had to take off their jackets like Stevy and I did. I explained that they don’t since they weren’t carrying keys, money or cell phones in their pockets. The vast majority of Israelis and visitors don’t seem to mind this intrusion, which can occur many times a day depending on the places where one works or frequents: shopping malls, banks, bus stations, grocery stores, cafes, office buildings, etc.

Once through security, the girls and I waited in the plaza while Stevy headed to another exit, where he was to meet a guy who had de-bugged Stevy’s computer of a nasty virus. Noach actually drove to our house last Friday morning to work on the computer and then took it home to finish up and was returning it to us (Errand No. 3). The girls and I looked around in the meantime.

The sounds of Muslims’ afternoon prayers wafted over the wall from the plaza of the Dome of the Rock, above. Near the entrance to the women’s side of the Kotel were old, old women begging. Some of the faces I remembered from my visits to the Kotel in years past. Jersualem is timeless in so many ways. I took out my little leather change purse that I’ve begun carrying for bus fare and gave the girls shekels to give for tzedekah (charity).

Stevy returned and took the girls off to the men’s section. I headed to the women’s section to leave a note in the wall for a friend whose doctors just discovered a malignancy. I felt I should daven (pray) beforehand, so I found a siddur (prayerbook) with English. Like times past when I’d prayed at the Kotel, I did not feel the earth move. I don’t know if I ever will. But some women around me were clearly moved by praying there. I find the Kotel noisy and distracting as women walk toward and away from the wall. Nevertheless, I hoped my note would have some affect on God’s willingness to heal our friend.

After I found a crack in which to stash my prayer note, I returned to the common area of the plaza, where men and women are not separated. Peeking through the fence behind the men’s area, I spotted the girls and Stevy — their brightly coloured clothing in contrast with the mostly all-black garb worn by so many men there. As they walked up the ramp toward the common area, the girls cried “Imma!” (mommy) and came running toward me. I was glad to see them, too.

The girls played on the steps while Stevy and I planned the next part of the day: a stroll through the shuk (market) and finding some promised ice cream for the girls and then something substantial for all of us to eat. Leaving the plaza, we passed a group of yeshiva students singing and dancing.

Later, we visited Stevy’s friends who live and/or work in the Old City. One, David Aaron, runs a learning centre called Israelite. Atop his offices is an impressive view of the Old City and the Dome of the Rock. A young couple sat talking on the roof. The woman offered to take a camera-phone picture of the whole family. Zoe enjoyed running around on the roof; I was getting hungry.

We found something to eat and then found a playground, which the girls thoroughly enjoyed. It was probably the most exciting part of the day for them; I remarked to Stevy how the playground was much like those in New York City. Everything in the Old City is made of Jerusalem Stone; there are few green spaces — not like Yatzitz or Mazkeret Batya. The girls didn’t seem to notice or care.

The playground was around the corner from Dov’s shop. We returned around closing time, and he drove us and the big bag to the central bus station. Maayan fell asleep in the back seat. Zoe sucked her thumb all the way home.

A Friday Morning

Walking to Mazkeret Batya, in order to catch a sherut (mini-bus), is often a relaxing experience. Today was no exception. As I headed out to get our groceries for Shabbat, I passed the usual homes and farms, neighbourhood dogs Scratchy and Beka following me part-way, sun shining after a night of rain — the beginning of a good day.

At the edge of the moshav, I turned off the main road to take the shortcut we often take. (The walk into Mazkeret Batya is about 3 kilometres as the crow doesn’t fly.) The path cuts through an abandoned orchard. The trees have been uprooted and most of the wood hauled away. I’m not sure if it’s to give the ground a rest or even what sort of trees once grew in this field. Nearby are orange groves, so this could have been one once. But there are also many olive trees here in Yatzitz.

In addition to saving time, the shortcut offers a great view of surrounding fields and hills. Today I was surprised to see a flock of sheep walking toward me on the path. We often hear sheep bleating, but the only ones I’ve seen have been in a barn. I pulled out my camera phone to capture the scene.

An elderly man wearing a red & white kafiyeh, a young boy and an old woman were tending the sheep. “Cousins” is how we’ve heard Palestinans called. They said, “boker tov” (good morning), and the woman asked me in Hebrew how I was doing. “Be-seder,” (all in order / OK) I replied. I noticed how thin and sundried she looked. Her smile was yellowed and gap-toothed, and she reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding a cigarette to shake my hand. I smiled back, took her hand and asked, “tov?” (good?)

Kol tuv (all good).

Walking, I thought how I wish there were easy answers to the problems we cousins are having these days. I have to believe across the fence there are others who only want peace and to raise their children in happy times. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be enough of these cousins to make the difference. So we’ll have to wait awhile longer before everything is really “kol tuv”.

Returning from the supermarket — the groceries on their way by delivery van — I stopped again to take another photo of the view looking southeast.

Hills in the distance … possibly the mountains that climb up to Jerusalem … call to me: “See what a lovely land this is.”

Valentine’s Day

This evening our shed was installed beside the house. That means all the boxes that are filling our house get moved out! We will be able to hang pictures and put our down parkas away where we won’t see them. We saw photos of all the snow in NY and didn’t miss it at all.

We are reading the paper every day and are trying to learn as much as possible about the various politicians that are running for office. The choice is not great and I’m not sure which party has the most candidates that are being investigated or indicted. Svend Robinson, come on down!.

There is a billboard that I keep on seeing that has a photo of Olmert that says in Hebrew: “Kadimah to the 1967 borders.” It is a play on words because Kadimah is not only the name of Olmert’s party but also means “forward”, so the sign sends fears amongst Israelis that Kadimah is saying: “Forward to the 1967 borders.” The billboard is everywhere. Shas has lots of signs on the bus showing a photo of their number one candidate. Their number 2 man was demoted last week to a lower number because he has been accused of something or other. He went on TV showing his humble abode saying he never took those bribes… Hmmm, another member of knesset was found guilty of bribery yesterday and I have lost track of who else is being investigated. The Green Leaf (Marijuana Party) is looking better and better every day.

This is the first time Alison and I can vote in an Israeli election and we are being very careful about gathering information on the different parties. Even though I was a card carrying member of the NDP (New Democratic Party) in Canada, I am concerned that a party here that may be considered an equivalent does not address my concerns. On the other hand, I’m not sure the right wing parties have any answers on how to deal with security. Every few days we check with each other to see which way the other is leaning. We talk to friends and read whatever we can get our hands on.

Oh yeah, today was Valentines Day and we didn’t even know it.

Aliyah

This was an article I wrote before we made Aliyah in December.

The theme song from that ’70s TV show ‘The Jeffersons’ has been playing in the background of my life for weeks. In quiet moments — rare in a home shared with a 3-year-old and a 5-year-old — I hear the words: ‘Well, we’re movin’ on up’

But instead of the Jeffersons, who went ‘to the East Side, to a dee-luxe apartment in the sky’, the Epsteins are going to a small rental house in Yatzitz, a moshav that is also Israel’s UFO capital.

Still, we’re movin’ on up. That’s what aliyah is all about. Not that I expect our standard of living to improve  by any stretch of the imagination. Rather, I expect life will be much tougher in Israel than it is here in polite and prosperous Canada.

And, therefore, the curious (Jew and non-Jew, alike) ask: Why?

The pioneers’ descendant that I am would like to answer: Why not? (I’ve always been a wandering sort, up for adventure, having moved from Texas to Missouri to Ohio to New York to Canada.)

But thrill-seeking and a change of scenery are not the reasons for this move. For starters, I’m not the only one involved. Unlike the times of my previous moves, I have a husband and children now. Secondly, ‘thrill’  is a relative term, especially when you’re 43 instead of 23.

The weather?

No. Frankly, I was relieved to leave the heat and humidity behind in Texas.

So, nu? Why?

It comes down to a belief that Israel is our Jewish home. Furthermore, I ‘we, Stevy and I’ believe the most complete expression of one’s Jewish life can only occur while residing in the land. Hence, we are movin’ on up to a deeper expression and understanding of Judaism.

After so many centuries of hoping for a return to Israel, davening for it daily, Jews finally can. And Jews worldwide should take Hashem up on His promise to give this land to His people.

That’s what we did. As we were making the important decision as to whether to make aliyah now, I prayed that if Hashem wanted us there, He would make it happen.

Door after door opened for us even before other doors closed. As we took action toward making aliyah, our anticipated obstacles failed to live up to our expectations. Our motto became: “You have to put your toe in the water before the sea will part.”

No doubt, after we make aliyah, there will be times when it will feel like the water is in our nostrils. At those times, we will have hold onto this rope of certainty that Hashem wants us there long enough to see the waters part.

And they will.

We hope many others will follow us as we follow those who have already moved on up.

Now is a good time for you in Toronto. Despite the valiant efforts of those who battle for equity in education, I doubt Ontario will ever fund non-Catholic religious education — certainly not to the satisfaction of the already-squeezed middle-class.

Now is a good time for you in Canada and the United States. Never in history have so many Jews had the ability to run to a place  ‘rather than run from a place ’ with more than the shirts on their backs. It’s a glory age that must come to an end.

History, as it always does, will repeat itself. I wish it weren’t so, but the signs are already there: in France, in the laughable rhetoric from Iran’s president (laughable until you remember he leads a country with nuclear ambitions), in Argentina, even in Montreal.

Anti-Semitism is on the rise again, as if it ever really went away. Though brave people attempt to beat it back, hatred always lurks in darkened corners. Waiting.

I don’t know if we’ll see horrors like those of the past in our lifetimes, but it’s very possible my children and grandchildren will. May their strength be found with Hashem and with our numbers in Israel.

We hope you’ll be joining us very soon.

— Alison Epstein

Shabbat

We had a wonderful Shabbat. It was my birthday and David Zvi joined us. The girls could barely contain themselves and had lots of questions for their big brother. Friday night David Zvi, Noa, Maayan and I went to shul and took our places where we have been sitting since we arrived. We discovered a few weeks ago that the man sitting in front of me is the “candyman”. The girls made several trips to him and after the second trip he turned to me and saw that I did not want them to have more candy. He looked at their cute smiles and gave it to them anyway.

Dinner was great and David Zvi told us more about his Yeshiva. Their method of looking at halacha is very radical but quite refreshing. Shabbat morning we slept in and after we davened we walked outside and showed him the parakeets that seem to be building a nest in the tree next to our house. Alison looked up the name and they are called Rose Ringed Parakeets. They are BRIGHT green and seem to be using a hole in the tree created by a woodpecker.

The other new animals we have discovered are also pretty exotic to us. Growing up in Canada I was always used to hearing the garbage cans crash as raccoons feasted on the week’s trash. There are no raccoons here but one night last week Alison and I looked at each other as we heard howling noises. I thought they were cats but Alison pointed out rightly that cats don’t “howl.” We did a little checking and learned that they couldn’t be wolves because the only wolves in Israel were in the Golan Heights, a long way off from the coastal plain where we live. The Internet is a great resource and in time we learned that they were Jackals and called Tanim in Hebrew. The next day we checked with Alex and Doris and they confirmed it. They are supposed to be pretty timid and mostly come out at night. My cousin Marilyn mentioned to me that there are poisonous snakes in Israel but we have not seen any slithering creatures except for a lizard. Alison thinks she may have seen one in the house so we have to get in the habit of checking our shoes before we put them on.

Shabbat, being our only real day off at this point is our only time to sit and enjoy the newspaper and try and learn more about what is going on outside of the Moshav. We have subscribed to two papers and are trying to decide which one we will go with after our inexpensive trial period ends. Haaretz is a left wing Hebrew paper that started printing an English version. It also comes with the International Herald Tribune which keeps us up to date with world news. The paper is a good read but is a large broadsheet which makes it a bit difficult to read in our tiny bathroom. The Jerusalem Post is a different style and is turning out to be Alison’s favourite. Neither paper comes close to the quality of the National Post.
After Shabbat ended we walked David Zvi the 3 kilometres to Makeret Batya with the girls in their stroller and he caught his bus to Jerusalem.

A Hot Shower

Getting a hot shower in Israel during the winter isn’t as simple as it is in Canada or the States. Here, the sun either has to be shinning brightly; otherwise, the “dude hashmal” (I call it just “dude”) has to be turned on at least 30 minutes prior to pulling open the shower curtain. The “dude” is a electric (usually) water heater.

Israel has a long way to go on environmental issues. But one area where we’re miles ahead here is in the use of solar power — at least for hot water. Most homes and apartments have a “dude shemesh” to heat water. This applies to 300-year-old villas and brand-new studio apartments. By law, all new homes have to have a dude shemesh. (Shemesh = sun in Hebrew.)

With early-morning sun unreliable during the winter months, its often easier to “top ‘n tail” at the sink or forgo bathing altogether before getting dressed. Today, however, we turned on the dude, so I’m looking forward to a steamy-hot shower … and there probably won’t be another one this week until Friday, before Shabbat.

I recently read that women who lived in the United States 100 years ago only washed their hair once a month. Just think how far we’ve progressed: I get to wash my hair twice a week — if I remember to turn on the dude!

Another Week

We have been very busy here and this letter was started a week ago and finished today.

We just dropped our girls off at Gan and walked over to visit Beka and the dog next door which we have named Scratchy. Scratchy is now our buddy and will sit on command, especially when we have dog treats in our pockets. He no longer barks at us and Beka has finally taken some treats from us. She also has stopped barking at us. I think we have tamed this corner of the street and now have to turn our attention to the “triplets” who scare even tough dogs like Beka and Scratchy. We have to go back to Tzomet Bilu for more dog treats.

Our home is now only one quarter full of boxes. There is no place to store any additional boxes here. No basement, garage or attic. Could it be that Israelis don’t save useless stuff? How could it be that a people with a collective memory of over 5,000 years leaves it’s keepsakes in museums and in books? I can see that my packrat instincts are going to be challenged by a lack of space. Everything is small here. The apartments are small, the washer/driers are European style and the cars look like they are sold at Toys R Us. The Israeli mentality however is not to think small. Last week Alison and I went to visit the huge Ikea in Netanya during their aronei kir sale. Aronei kir are wardrobes that are either custom built or “off the rack” and contain all your clothes. Since space is always at a premium not many people use dressers since the space above the dresser is pretty much wasted. Aronei kir are typically almost as tall as the room they are located in and will have either shelves, clothing bars, drawers or any combination you choose. If you are lucky and have extra room in one you can fit in some of the stuff that may have gone into the attic or basement. Ikea was as they say in Hebrew a “Chavaya” or as we would say in English, an “experience.” Having made many trips to the store on Sheppard and Leslie in Toronto and tried to find a parking space close to the doors to avoid having to walk through slush and cold in the parking lot, we were pleasantly surprised to see rows of palm trees gracing the Netanya Ikea’s parking lot. After going through security and passing Ikea employees in bright yellow jerseys, some even with kippot and tzitzit hanging out we found the perfect aron kir to hold our clothes. We lined up behind the other shoppers and were told that it was out of stock. But, the helpful clerk in the bright yellow jersey informed us, the Hopen wardrobe in 60 cm was expected tomorrow and if we called first we could make sure it was available before making the trip to Netanya.

The next morning we called the number we were given and told that yes indeed the 60 cm Hopen wardrobe in brown did come in and we could come and pick them up. We extended our car rental for yet another day (thank you Budget) and we piled the girls in the car and scooted up to Netanya to make our purchase. When we got past the beautiful rows of palm trees, security and passing Ikea employees in bright yellow jerseys, some even with kippot and tzitzit hanging out, we were informed that the 60 cm Hopen wardrobe never came in. I won’t bore you with details but after three hours we left with a promise they would be shipped within 4 days. One hour before Shabbat we get a call from a driver asking us exactly which house is ours. We now have a place to hang up our clothes.

Things have not gone as smoothly with our documents. We had to deal with many errors in our National Identity Card and thought all the mistakes were worked out until we found another serious error yesterday. We wanted to register for our health card but when we went to the Post Office we were told we had to go to the National Insurance Organization (Bituach Leumi). Since they were on strike we waited and yesterday Zoe (now calling herself Noa) had an earache. We went to town and lined up at the Bituach Leumi office. We were given a slip of paper and told to go to an office down the hall. We waited patiently outside her office till she was ready to see us. By this point Noa was in Alison’s arms sobbing and moaning. We sat in front of the bureaucrat and she asked us to fill out some documents. We did and while she was looking them over she received a call on her cell phone from her friend Penina. They were having a great time talking on the phone to each other and were making plans for after work. Penina was going to pick her up when she finished. Our bureaucrat was going to wait downstairs for her and they were going to be on their way. After about five minutes I questioned if perhaps she and Penina might be able to talk another time, maybe after my daughter is seen by a doctor. Our bureaucrat, not impressed, turned to Tziona, the bureaucrat at the next desk and asked her why she was not serving anyone? She sent us to her. Tziona understood the severity of the situation but after checking her computer discovered that Alison and I were married on March 1st 1980. I did not go in to details with Tziona but on March 1st 1980 I was sharing a room with my friend Dov Kempinski as we made our way across Eastern Europe photographing Jewish communities. Yes, the two of us were close but married? I think not! Alison pulled out an official marriage certificate showing that we were married in Toronto on Aug. 25 1997. Here I said, now we can correct the error and get our new card? No, she answered, now you have to go to the Ministry of Interior to correct THEIR mistake. I don’t know why the error had to be corrected but it was too much of a problem to issue our cards. We left. It reminded me of when I was being processed at the airport in the Congo. The difference is that in the Congo a two dollar bribe gets amazing results.

We got in a cab and went straight to a clinic hoping they would see us without a card. We waited again with Noa moaning in Alison’s arms. We received two reactions in the waiting room. The 1st was the woman sitting across from of us who pulled out a surgical mask and donned it so she would not be contaminated by whatever bug Noa was carrying and the second was another person who allowed us to take his place in the line. When we got to see the doctor I explained the situation and that we did not have a health card yet it was to be issued very soon and we would be members of her plan. The doctor was aghast and told me she was not going to examine Noa. I was stunned. Our concern was not the payment it was just seeing a doctor. I had heard this could happen but I could not believe it was happening to us. The “doctor” picked up the phone to call the front desk to ask what to do and at that moment I raised my voice loud enough for all parties to hear asking if she was really a doctor and if she actually took the Hippocratic Oath. Then I called our contact at Nefesh B’Nefesh who spoke to her on the phone and she agreed to examine Noa. Ten minutes later we walked down the street to the pharmacy with a prescription for two drugs. Today Noa is back to herself. We are exhausted. First thing this morning we got in a cab and went to the Misrad HaPnim (Interior Ministry) with our marriage certificate. We went through the metal detectors and took and number. When we eventually sat down with the clerk she explained that her computer had the correct date. We were stunned. She offered us a document that we could bring back to Tziona and prove that August 25 is our correct date of marriage. We took the document back to Tziona who kindly asked about Noa and we wished her mazel tov (we learned that her daughter had her 1st child today) and gave her our other forms. She said thank you and gave us a phone number to call in a few days to see if “everything is ok.” I’ll update you when we hear more…

OK, if you read all this stuff you really must be either close family or not have much to do today. To fill you in on other stuff…

Alison has been doing some work for Canadian clients. We found a company that makes plastic sheds that we can buy and install beside the house to hold our extra “stuff.”

Alison has been venturing out on her own and is comfortable now enough to go to the bank, the grocery store, post office and hardware store using her basic Hebrew and English.

Noa knows how to write her name in Hebrew and the Gan staff are impressed with her apparent understanding of Hebrew.

Maayan is not sure what to make of Hebrew. Her response so far is to make up a new language which I am sure is as much gibberish to her as much as to us.
This past Shabbat we were walking down the street and Beka and Scratchy came to greet us. They now are our foster dogs and come to us several times a day for treats. On this particular day a new dog (looks like a German Shepherd/Collie mix) came to check us out and he was not too friendly. He ran up to Noa and she got scared and started to scream. Almost immediately Beka pounced on this dog and had her teeth around his neck. He was on his back, defenseless against Beka the wonder-dog. We were amazed at how loyal Beka was to Noa.

It is now late and I will sign off. We are all exhausted from all the running around we are doing and emotionally drained from the experience. We are looking forward to a relaxing Shabbat.

Arrived Home

It is Sunday morning and Alison and the girls are still asleep so I thought I would take a few minutes to write about what is happening in our lives. The week starts again today, children go back to school and Alison and I go back to fighting the beauracracy here. I miss sleeping in Sundays already. Some people argue that Israelis have a two day weekend that starts on Friday. Friday is that strange day in Israel that is not a weekday and not a Sunday. Many offices are closed and kids are in school so we have a few hours to shop and cook for Shabbat. Our dream is to be well organized and have all our shopping and cooking done on Thursday evening to allow us to travel to the beach and other Sunday type activities on Friday mornings. I suspect that Sundays will be one of the hardest things to let go of.

Friday we walked the girls to Gan (kindergarten/daycare) which is right across the street from where we live. Maayan didn’t want to wear a long sleeved shirt which we felt was more appropriate but we were too tired to fight with her and the day will probably turn out to be as beautiful as all the other days we have experienced since our arrival. When we left the Gan Alison and I went home to get some bread to give to Beka, the dog that lives 2 doors away. She scared me one night when we were here in September when she suddenly chased our car barking all the way down the street. Since then we have learned that she is pregnant and her owner has offered us a pup from her litter. After all he explained, it would only be fitting since Beka came from a litter that Doris’s (our landlady) dog had two years ago. Not too untypical of life here in Israel where everything turns full circle sooner or later and the bark of most Israelis is worse than their bite. We offered some fresh bread to Beka who we learned by the telltale leg between the legs, afraid of us. A mangy Golden Retriever showed up who we suspect is the father of the litter and quite happy to accept our contribution of food. It will take some work but we feel that we will win Beka as a friend and we hope she will not scare our girls when they ride their bikes down the street.

As you may have picked up we are dealing with the micro-level now. We did not know that Prime Minister Sharon had been rushed to the hospital until my mother in law called from Texas to give us the news. We are living on a farm without TV or radio. We finally have our internet connection and have been catching up via CNN, CBC and Haaretz.

The Moshav we are living on was built by (Italian) Jews from Tripoli, Libya and like most kibbutzim and moshavim ran in to difficulties. The government allowed them to sell off some of their agricultural land for housing. The result is the moshav is made up of two neighbourhoods, one farming type with dogs like Beka chasing cars, chickens running around people’s yards and a second neighbourhood with a street with monster houses and sidewalks. We live with the farmers and last week after leaving the local shopping centre with some new appliances had the experience of driving down the road that leads to the moshav and having a car coming towards us flash their high-beams on and off. I checked to make sure my lights were turned on but realized the driver was warning us that there was a gray donkey about to cross the road in front of us. The donkey passed and we drove home with our new microwave, toaster, flat screen TV and DVD player. This is a country where Asia meets Africa, East meets West and history plays a significant role with the present.

The whole process of our Aliyah has been made easier by people like Veronica and Dina at the Toronto Aliyah office as well as the many people at Nefesh B’Nefesh. The Aliyah office took us through all the steps and held our hands as we prepared for the move. The people at NBN started their real work on the plane working side by side with officials from the Misrad HaPnim (Ministry of Interior) who processed our papers on the plane while the girls slept. Yes, there were mistakes which mostly happened as a result of my previous status in Israel. That most important document the Teudat Zehut (citizenship certificate) which is a laminated card with a separate piece of paper in a pouch much like a TTC Subway pass must be shown as proof of identity when opening bank accounts (only took 2 hours), returning defective kettles to the hardware store (it boils over when you fill it) or when you want to register your children to gan. The people at the municipal office were not pleased that my TZ had one address and Alison’s had another and did not want to allow the girls to start school. They finally agreed after pleading our case to a sympathetic clerk but only if we produce the corrected documents within two weeks. A driver from NBN is coming by today to pick up our TZ and take them to the Tel Aviv office to have them changed. What service, someone else is going to stand in line for us. No wonder Americans are referred to as “spoiled Americans.”

Last week I had my first job in Israel. It was pre-arranged with my contact at UJA/Federation in Toronto. The pay is not what I am used to for a day’s work but it felt good to be working in Israel and especially with a client I have worked with for 15 years. The job was to photograph a family mission to Israel and 4 Bar/Bat Mitzvahs at Massada. We rented a car and I took the family with me. The girls enjoyed the cable car ride up the mountain but are too young to appreciate the history. I am sure they will make many trips back to this historic place with their schools. It was great to see some familiar faces with the mission, the Kassels, Morrisons, Gottesmans and the Glowinskys.

I will upload a few photos from our trip. It starts with Zoe making snow angels, movers, Shabbat with the Rosenberg’s, the airport, the plane and coming home.

http://www.bigdipperphotos.com/israel-week1

Our VoIP line is now working. Keep in mind that there is a 7 hour difference with Toronto.

I just heard the rain starting to fall. It is a great sound to hear in such a dry country.