This is MY land

They say one of the hardest things about moving to a new country is adjusting to its food. The truth is I love Israeli food and since we moved here we have eaten in some of the best restaurants I've ever eaten before. Food is kind of like a passion to me (eating it of course, not so much cooking it), so I like trying new flavors. 

Grocery shopping however, well that is a whole different story. I must admit I have never been one to enjoy my trips to the grocery store and since moving to Israel, my hate-hate relationship with the grocery store has gone to new levels. It isn't just not finding the products you are used to, the fact that 1% milk is as fat-free as you can get, that a year supply of Haagen Dasz costs as much as tuition did in America, that figuring out the names of the cuts of meat requires a PhD, or the fact that the employees of grocery stores here do not seem to have gotten the "customer service" memo and will run you over with their dollies as they take up 3/4 of the aisle while replenishing the shelves. My biggest pet peeve, one that I cannot seem to get over, is the fact that in order to get a grocery cart, I am required to deposit a ₪5 coin in a little slot that causes the chained cart to become lose. I get the idea behind it. Depositing ₪5 ensures that I will return the cart to its designated place once I am done using it instead of leaving it behind in the middle of the parking lot, but c'mon, I am about to spend close to a thousand Shekels inside, can't the supermarket afford someone to retrieve the carts from the parking lot? Is it not enough that I just bagged my own groceries? 

Yesterday morning was like any other Friday morning at the grocery store: a complete zoo. Lately I have been doing my grocery shopping online, which I must say, is a complete wonder, however, my last purchase was short a few things, so a visit to the brick and mortar was necessary. I arrived a little after 10am with my two year old daughter and shuffled through my purse to find ₪5. The best I could come up with was a ₪2 and two ₪1 coins, which meant I had to get change because the grocery cart retrieval requires an exact ₪5 coin. I scanned for the possibility of a lose cart to no avail, so went inside to get change from the "customer service" desk (note the quotation marks are to denote sarcasm). There were three people in line for the same reason I was and the woman at the desk was on the phone. After a few minutes of waiting, armed with my ₪5 coin, I retrieved a cart and started my battle for grocery shopping on a Friday morning. 

I finished rather quickly, except for the line at the register which held me back about 35 minutes, and all the while I was waiting, ideas of using my blog to vent about the ₪5 situation flowed through my head. As I was bagging my groceries, talking to the lady behind me and the woman at the register, they noticed I have an accent and asked where I came from. People can't believe I left Miami (paradise to them) to come here. The woman behind me asked how I liked Israel. Grocery shopping aside, I love living here, so with a bright smile I said "I love it, we are really happy". She was surprised and said "wow, that's wonderful to hear. Even with all the problems we have, you are happy here". Without hesitation, I said "there are problems everywhere, but here these are OUR problems". Even I couldn't believe my own answer, I really meant it. I feel that even after only a year, this is MY land. And so I left, having said shabbat shalom to both women, proudly pushing my sideways-running grocery cart (what's up with that by the way?). 

Am Echad, Lev Echad

What do you say about the past week's events that hasn't already been said? The impact the death of our three boys (OUR boys because after 18 days of searching for Gilad, Naftali and Eyal, of hoping they would come home, they became our boys), had on every one in Israel was immense and when we heard the devastating news that they would not be coming home because they had been brutally murdered by terrorists, the loss wasn't just for their families, but for every one of us. 

I have read article after article from people from different points of views, from different levels of religiousness, from different backgrounds and nationalities, but all with the same message of support and same tone of sorrowfulness. If I wrote about this week's events, my blog wouldn't be any different. I feel the same sadness, the same anger, the same sorrow that everyone has felt this past week. So instead of writing about the three boys and the terrible loss this country had, I want to share the impact today of all days this week has had on me.

Today, I went with a friend and her family to visit the shiva of two of these boys' families. I didn't want to intrude during this very sorrowful moment, but at the same time I wanted to show my support. To be like one of the thousands of people who have shown the families during these past few days that they are not alone. And so I went, and what I saw and felt was incredible. 

The amount of people at the Frenkel's house was unbelievable. Naftali's parents were sitting under a tent in their backyard surrounded by tens of people tying to give their condolences. Among those, was Sherri Mandell, whose son Koby was brutally murdered by terrorists in 2001. I was not farther than a yard away when one of those moments in which the world starts moving in slow motion took place. Sherri Mandell and Rachel Frenkel saw each other. Two women who had never met, but who recognized each other from TV and who now share an inexplicable bond held each other's hands. I couldn't hear what they said, but I could feel the intensity of the moment. 

We then visited Gilad's family's home. We had the incredible opportunity to sit with Gilad's parents and one of his sisters in their living room and listen to stories about Gilad and we talked about how not only in Israel, but in the US, in Colombia, in Panama and everywhere in the world, the boys are being remembered and memorials are being held in their names. Bat-Galim, Gilad's mother told us how a month ago the parents of these three boys had never met, but today, they share an incredible bond and they have found a new family in each other.

And just like the Mandells and the Frenkels and the Sha'ers and the Yifrahs share an unbreakable bond, Am Israel has bonded together over this tragedy, like we usually bond over difficult times. I have been utterly amazed at how an entire country mobilized to first find these children and now to comfort their families. Am echad, lev echad. The people of Israel is one nation, we are one heart.