An Yidishe mame in every Israeli

Living in Israel is an experience in itself. The idiosyncrasy of the Israeli is very particular to say the least and you can spend your days complaining about it or simply embrace it, enjoy it, appreciate it and even laugh at it.

To describe Israelis requires more than words -perhaps the use of hand gestures-.  Israelis are referred to as Sabras (Prickly pear in English. The term is used to compare an Israeli Jew to the fruit's thick skin and tough exterior that conceals a sweet and soft interior), and they are nothing short of it. They are impatient, they yell, they speak with their hands as if about to hit you, they cut in line, they have no concept of customer service as we know it, but boy, are they there when you need them. You don't have to ask for advice to get it, and not because they are nosy, but because they care. You don't have to ask for help, because if they see you stranded on the road, they won't think about how late they will be to the meeting they are running to, but they will stop and help you. They genuinely care about others and have a unique way of showing it.

The first week we were here after making Aliyah (just three weeks before the High Holidays), we got invitations from total strangers to spend the Holidays with them. A few years back, my husband and I came for Passover break and after getting into a heated argument with a guy who cut in front of our car to steal our parking space in a crowded mall, he and my husband, hugged, shook hands and wished each other Hag Sameaj. Only in Israel.

Israelis are like siblings. They will fight, and yell and tell it to your face, but when it comes down to it, they will help you and care about you.

Israelis also have an Yiddishe mame complex. When it comes down to food, they "know" what's best for you. They won't let you have what you want, but they will tell you what you should be having and convince you until you have what they want you to have. It may be my ola chadasha face, but I may seem to attract "food advice" at every restaurant I go to. We went for pancakes this morning at the new Beit HaPancake. I like my pancakes plain with syrup on top. The store owner wanted to make them with walnuts and coconut, but he didn't just suggested it, he insisted they were so good I had to have them that way. At the gym , I never seem to be able to order my smoothie without "added" ingredients because they guy at the counter thinks what I order is too simple. At Pisgat Habaguette, even when I want a plate and not a sandwich, the owner insists on the bread being fresh and delicious and everything being better on a sandwich.

My experience last week at the super market put all my previous encounters with the Yiddishe mame to shame. I was buying cheese at the counter for a lasagna I wanted to make. After the counter attendant diligently searched through my grocery cart and replaced the pre-packaged cheeses I had gotten from the refrigerator with ones from the counter because as he said it, the ones at the counter are less expensive per kilo and better tasting, he "suggested" I put pesto in my lasagna. Now, I am not big on pesto sauce, so I told him I didn't like it. He opened his eyes as in disbelief and signaled me to wait (you know, the "rega" hand signal where they put all fingertips together upward) . He went to what I assume is a back kitchen, only to come back with a spoon full of pesto sauce, which he proceeded to feed me! I had no choice but to open my mouth and eat a spoonful of pesto sauce, because how dare I say no to an Yiddishe mame.

published article
http://issuu.com/modiinfo/docs/spring2014a/45?e=1720058/6976020

Raising an Israeli

A move is a big deal, especially one that involves being half way across the globe, learning a new language and having a seven-hour time difference with the people you love. Moving with children makes a move like this that much more challenging.

We knew when we started to plan our aliyah that our then 9 month old daughter wouldn't even notice, but for our five (going on 40) year old son, things would be "noticeably different" to say the least. Nathan is a smart boy (as any Jewish mother would think of their kids) and very mature. He has no problem making new friends, and because we decided that regardless of how scared or freaked out we would get about the big move, that we would put everything on a positive light and show excitement about the new things to come, he took the move amazingly well. Of course he was sad about leaving his friends and family in America and seeing his room empty, but he was happy to make aliyah.

They say kids adapt quickly, much more so than adults do and I now have no doubt about it.

After only two short weeks of having made aliyah, it was Nathan's 6th birthday. We had celebrated it big in Miami before we left because he had asked to celebrate with all his friends, and as a parent, full of guilt for moving your kid across the globe, who were we to say no. Nevertheless, a birthday should no go unnoticed and because I had figured he wouldn't have any fiends yet after only two weeks in a new country (and one week on school), I had planned to go to dinner just the four of us. Well, as it turns out, two days before his birthday, he says he wants to spend it with his new friends. 15 kids came to Nathan's 6th birthday party! he had more friends after only two weeks in Israel than I ever did in Miami!

We are here now five months and every week I'l get calls from three to four class mothers wanting to set up playdates with Nathan, not to mention our neighbor who practically lives with us.

The kid is popular ok, he has no barrier with the language and he has had no issues adapting to the life in Israel. Today however, I realized we are starting to raise an Israeli. Our next door neighbor was at our house as we were getting ready to leave for a chug (extracurricular activity) and as we are heading out the door, her and Nathan exchange some kind of understanding about her taking one of Nathan's toys. As I witness this, I figure she is taking my son for a ride (she is two years older than him and after all, Israeli) and I say "why would you give away your toys? they are yours!" and he turns to me and says "No mom, I didn't give it away, I sold it to her!"

Proud Ima

You're moving to Israel? you realize your children will have to go to the army right?

When the thought of making aliyah stopped being a vague idea flying around our heads and became topic of discussion among our families, many tools and weapons were used to convinced us not to move, but one con that my mom thought for sure was going to make me doubt my decision, was "your children are going to have to go to the army".

I think I am a great mother, I love my children more than anything in the world, but does it make me a terrible person that that life-changing-immensely-important-fact didn't even make it onto my pro-con list?

Maybe it's the fact that my oldest son is only 6 and the army is years down the road, or the fact that the army weighed against all the wonderful things I can give them by moving to Israel doesn't seem like such a big trade off.  The fact is that my children going to the army didn't stop me from making aliyah.

I am here now and I get to witness every day the role the army plays in this society and in the life of every Israeli and the role society and every Israeli play in the army.

Yesterday, thanks to an invitation from Nefesh B Nefesh, we had the opportunity to attend a graduation ceremony for Hel Avir, the Israeli Air Force. We made a trip out of it and spent the entire day on base looking at planes at the Hel Avir Museum, we watched a flying demonstration of different air crafts. Prime Minister Netanyahu, the Zar ha Bitajon, and various commanders gave speeches congratulating the new soldiers of Hel Avir.  It was all very exciting, but my heart was with the soldiers. Seeing this kids - because that's who they are, kids- turn into soldiers and thinking that one day my kids will proudly wear that uniform turned my heart upside down. Not in a bad way though. Not in a way that made me think of my mother's words before I moved, or that made me regret making aliyah. Not for a second did I feel scared that one day it will be my kid defending this country. Yesterday's ceremony made my heart turn because I felt proud of this kids and of our country. My heart turned because I realized that one day, I will be like one of the many proud parents who were there yesterday to see their children. My heart turned, because I heard my little 6 year old who has only been in Israel for 4 months sing the Hatikva.

I can't even come close to imagining what a mother of an 18 year old kid must feel when she sees her little boy dressed in army green, carrying an M16 leaving out the door to defend our country. She probably doesn't sleep at night while her son is gone, so you and I can. But as scared as she may be, she is also proud that her little boy is responsible for your and my safety.

Yesterday, as much as an Olah Hadasha as I looked, I felt very Israeli.

" Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore"

We've been here only two months. It feels so much longer though with everything we've accomplished. It took us about a month to get settled, not just physically, but mentally. We got our papers in order, enrolled Nathan (our 6 year old) in school and Ilanit (our 11 month old) in Mishpajton, unpacked our two hundred and somewhat boxes, bought appliances, went grocery shopping and started to settle into somewhat of a routine in the place we now call home. However, not knowing Hebrew, despite the fact that most people here speak English, makes me still feel like a foreigner. Even though my husband can handle a simple conversation and I can order a shawarma without struggling too much (that is if I am not asked additional questions about my order), getting truly immersed in Israeli society implies speaking the language, so we started Ulpan.

There are ulpanim of every kind, color and flavor. The one we have available in Modiin is a totally intensive, 5 days a week ulpan that promises to have us speaking Hebrew in 5 months.

So, we walk into a room full of people, about 40 or so, and take a seat. We look around and the room is a total melting pot. The Tower of Babel had nothing on this place. A couple from Spain, someone from Ukraine, a few girls from Russia, a few guys from France, a Brazilian, a lot of Americans, Canadians, some religious, some not so much...

Although learning Hebrew is at the top of my priority list, a social life is too, so I start to look around scouting for potentials friends. I know it sound stalkery and all, but  I miss my friends in Miami so much, I can't wait to find some new ones here we can hang out with. So I shut my conscious up and let my stalkery self do some searching. I see a girl that kind of looks like one of my friends back home, trendy and low key, but I hear her speak and realize she is Russian. How much can I have in common with someone from a minus 8 degrees country? I come from the tropics for heaven's sake. Totally disappointed, I decide I should better pay attention to what the Ulpan director has to say. She welcomes us, tells us how important we are to Israeli society and how the Ulpan will work. We take a short test to determine what level we are in and then we are asked to place ourselves in two class rooms. Kita Aleph, for those who wish to start from scratch, from the aleph-bet if you will , should stay in the room, and the rest should go into the class room next door. That means there will be a mish mash of levels in one class room. Levels bet and gimel together. I am nothing like a gimel. If anything an aleph plus or a bet, but definitely not a gimel. Now, I don't want to be an aleph either, so I brave it out and go onto the more advanced group thinking (erroneously thank God) that I would not understand a word. I have hubby with me just in case I get lost.

The class starts and Dalia, our teacher, who by the way is amazing, gets rolling. No English, just Hebrew, and to my surprise, I understand everything she says. She has such a clear way of talking, it sounds like simultaneous translations (maybe not, let's not get carried away, but it does sound very very clear). She has us introduce ourselves. Everyone says their names, where they're from, profession, children, bla bla bla. I don't really care much for what others have to say. After all, my stalkery self has been disappointed and  has been napping for the past hour. Turns out ulpan can be a great place to meet people. Everyone comes form a different place,  but we are all kind of in the same boat , lost trying to make our way through to get established, we all have sort of the same needs (a car, a baby sitter, a better place to buy something...) . Not that we have made tons of friends, but the future looks promising. A group of us take a 20 minute break that turns into a 30 minute one and go up to the makolet (convenience store), buy some snacks and sit in a circle on the floor under the sun, high-school style and chit chat. We kind of hit it off with this one guy from New York, he takes ulpan but his wife doesn't, which is a shame because we don't get to know her as well, but we went to the beach last week with their kids and ours and it was great. Between our potential new friends and friends from the past that now live here it feels like all is not lost in the friendship department. And as far as ulpan goes, in just two short weeks that Dalia has been imparting her wisdom on us, I can already feel myself understanding more and although timidly, speaking more. I hear words on the radio that remind me of something we did in class and can now handle additional questions on a shawarma order.

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So you think you can haggle?

What is it with Israelis and this idea that everything is negotiable? Now that I wrote it (the blogger's equivalent to saying something out loud) I am thinking "well, why shouldn't everything be negotiable?" But really, I mean, I enjoy the sporadic back and forth price haggling when buying something at the street market, or negotiating to get a service done, but here in Israel, there seems to be no shame nor limit in trying to negotiate things that in countries like the US, one would never think of questioning the price of.

 Having been raised in Colombia, South America, where haggling is common, I thought I was a pretty good haggler. Having lived in the US for 14 years, I lost the edge a little, but I still liked asking for discounts whenever possible. I enjoyed pretending to get up from the table at a car dealer so they would come back with a lower price, or saving some bucks on an on-line deal, but here in Israel, haggling is a whole different ball game. You can ask for discounts on things you never thought would be appropriate to ask. We got discounts on all of our appliances (bought at the equivalent of a small Best Buy), the installer who wanted to sell us four small rubber "thingies" to put between our stackable washer and dryer so it wouldn't wobble, went from 100 sheckels to 50 sheckels in the time it took me to raise an eyebrow at his first quote. I probably could have gotten the price down to 30, but I was too busy laughing at the situation to even ask. I went to the chiropractor yesterday, one who does not take health insurance and charges 500 sheckels for the first visit. Who in their right mind would ask a doctor for a discount? I figured, "when in Rome..." and said "wow, 500 sheckels! is there something you can do about that?" . "Well, lucky you should ask" he said. "I am running a promotion and if you Like my Facebook page, I'll give you the visit for half the price". I was floored! He didn't say anything or advertise his discount, but when I asked, there it was.

I must say, it sometimes feels exhausting being on the defensive thinking they are out to get you, but I've also come to realize that the Colombian saying " if you don't cry, you don't nurse  (el que no llora, no mama)" has never been truer as it is in Israel. So when you are here, go on, haggle.

HELP

Throughout this whole process of deciding to move to Israel, from the moment we said let’s find out what it would mean to live there, to packing our stuff and getting ready to leave, to actually living our new life in Eretz Israel, we have been amazingly surprised by people, by organizations and by a country that without any real connection to us personally, have a desire for us to succeed in our aliyah.

We have been blessed with great friends and family who have always supported us and who in this endeavor, despite the occasional “please don’t go”, have supported our decision and done whatever they can to help us. I love that we have this support, and am thankful for having it, but I must say, it isn’t entirely a surprise. I mean, if they made a decision like this, I would’ve been there packing up boxes too. However, to find people along the way that without even knowing you, want you to succeed and help you in the process, now that is a surprise. 

We have realized that as Jews, we have a country that not only opens its doors to you and gives you a nationality from the moment you set foot on its land (I come from the US, where to get a visa you have to jump through all kinds of hoops and people get deported left and right, so this is already a plus), but gives you cash as soon as you arrive in the airport and for a few months then after to help you get settled, transports you free of charge with your family and as many suitcases you decided to bring with you to your desired destination, provides you with classes so you may learn the language and provides you with countless tools to make sure you are properly absorbed into the Israeli culture. A country that does all of this so you can live happily in the land that God gave us, now, that is unbelievable. I know of no other country in the world that does this!

We have found the help of organizations like Nefesh B Nefesh, that has available everything you need to get adjusted to your new life and to help you through the process of moving. Do not make aliyah without their help! From putting together meetings with advisors about what areas to consider according to your life style and family status, to how to find an apartment and enter into contracts to rent or buy, to accounting practices, to job search, schools, everything… NBN helps ensure that your move is a success.
Through the aliyah department and our sheliaj, we found a non Jewish organization called Ebenezer, that believes in the existence of a Jewish State and that as Jews, we belong in Eretz Israel and provides both financial support and guidance to those deciding to make aliyah. I mean, isn’t this incredible? We decide to make aliyah and found a whole team of people we didn’t know existed rooting for us! This is so unbelievably exciting. I can’t wait to see what else awaits on the other side of the Atlantic!

Education, shmeducation?

No such thing as every child is created equal in Israel. I mean this in a good way, in fact I mean this in a great way. The interest our son's education has received from the moment we arrived in Modiin has been outstanding.
Our son Nathan is 6 years old, he turned 6 yesterday, on September 8th, which according to Israeli education "standards" (I use the term "standards" loosely as I have come to find there is no such thing here in Israel) makes him apt to enter kita aleph, or 1st grade. The cut-off date here to determine a grade a child should attend is Hanukka (around December). This means, Nathan would be among the younger kids in his class, but there will be younger kids who were born between September and December of the same year.

When Nathan entered pre-school in Miami 4 years ago, where the cut-off date is September 1st, he was just shy of turning 2 years old. Missing the cut-off date by only a week, the director of the school offered to 'bump" him up a grade where he would attend school with the 2 year-olds, or leave him in the 18-24 month-olds where he would be the oldest of his class. Thinking of the future, we thought being the youngest may mean not being ready to handle some of the skills other kids already mastered, such as holding the pencil right, reading, writing, etc; we thought it would mean he'd be the last one to have his Bar Mitzvah, the last one to drive, the last one to develop physically, and him being on the lower end of the height and weight curve, we thought it best to have him attend the younger class, where he would be the oldest student. It meant no exceptions would be made and it didn't mean leaving him behind, since that was really according to dates, where he belonged.
We were happy with the decision all along and not for one minute do we regret it. However,and I know every mother thinks their kid is the smartest kid on the block, Nathan is truly a smart kid. Not just book smart, but street smart. Not only I say it, since I am obviously biased, but his teachers say it, every adult he comes into contact with says it, and here in Israel after having been evaluated by social workers and education department psychologists, they say it. He is mature for his age and gets along better with older kids, so I would say that if we were given the choice to decide again, perhaps we would make a different decision and let him be the youngest of his class.

Now, this presents a problem. Although he is age appropriate for kita aleph, he hasn't attended Kindergarten.  Kita aleph is the first exposure children have to a structured classroom. No more singing songs and playing games to learn the letters. Kids actually sit in a desk, open up books and take down notes. Kindergarten prepares them for this, and Nathan has never had this opportunity. My husband and I had talked about this topic endlessly and after having weighed the pros and cons, decided that the best choice for him was to go to kita aleph and skip Kindergarten. We thought he was up for the challenge and he would be better able to develop in an atmosphere where his abilities would be tested. We first met with the education department coordinator for Olim (immigrants) for the city of Modiin and we discussed Nathan's situation and although she believed it best that he would stay behind one year so that the transition to a new environment (having just moved across the globe) would be easier, after sitting with us for two hours on two separate meetings, she said she didn't have the grounds for making a decision specifically for Nathan, but her opinion was based on what was generally done with kids in similar situations. She felt we shouldn't take this decision lightly, so she referred us to a psychologist at the education department to evaluate Nathan. Although we met with the psychologist for about an hour, after only five minutes with Nathan, she said "I don't see how he would have any problems going to kita aleph". We were pleased, but our decision making was not over yet. Because Nathan doesn't speak Hebrew, he would have the opportunity to attend ulpan, or Hebrew immersion lessons for the first four months of the school year before starting kita aleph. The pros: he would get to kita aleph knowing the language. The cons: he would enter kita aleph mid year after the other kids already have their studying habits in place and have made friends. The other choice we were given was for him to go straight to kita aleph, no ulpan. The pros: he would start fresh, just like all the other kids who have no idea they need to sit at a desk and take out their notebooks. The cons: He would sit a desk and not understand a word the teacher says. We weighed the decision for a few days and decided together with the education department coordinator, that the best for him would be to go straight to the classroom without ulpan. he would learn Hebrew along the way. Because having met with her and a psychologist was not enough for the education department to feel comfortable, they set up a meeting with the school's student adviser to introduce Nathan to her, to the school and to his teacher so that when school started, he wouldn't feel lost. We have been blessed with a teacher who speaks English and Spanish, so not only does she explain Nathan things in his language while he learns Hebrew, but she translates notes sent home to us and sends us e-mails letting us know what he needs to bring each day. The school has also set up twice a week lessons for Nathan and another child who has also recently moved here, to teach them Hebrew. This is all at no cost to us, only in the best interest of our child.
Israel may have its things, as does every other country, but the fact that children are treated individually, to me, has proven worth its weight in gold.