Blog #8 – Reality

---

Blog #8 – Reality

It feels like reality is beginning to set in. As of the time of writing (a week ago) Adin’s still in bed with a soar throat, probably brought on by a combination of insufficient sleep and the overall stress of going to a school in which he doesn’t know the language and is unaccustomed to the rough and tumble culture of schools in Israel. Meanwhile (as of a week ago) Ezra sits alone at his two-person desk in the back corner of his classroom because his teacher separated him and his buddy Eidoe for apparently talking too much. Aimee already spoke with Ezra’s teacher Hana a few days ago when Ezra first told us of the situation. It was at this point that Hana told her the boys were talking too much - in her view. Last Monday I accompanied Ezra to the classroom to talk to Hana again about our concerns. Since Hana was elsewhere in the school, I spoke with Sari, the principal, for a few minutes in the hall. I explained that we were worried about the situation and that Ezra needed someone to sit with him and help him along. I told her of Hana’s unhappiness at how much Ezra and Eidoe had been talking. I added, however, that the situation might have been handled by telling them to speak less and only when necessary, or to have a non-English speaking student sit with Ezra to reduce the amount of talking. I said it was not a good situation from a learning or social standpoint for a boy who is new to the class, school and country to be sitting isolated in the back corner of the room, unable to follow a big chunk of what was going on. Sari said she’d look into the situation and talk to Hana. After our conversation, I noticed that Sari opened the class door and looked in as I was leaving. … A number of people advised us in advance to keep on top of emerging problems in the school. Hopefully by doing so we can change the situation for the better.

While in the school I kept thinking about the novel “Lord of the Flies” in which only the tough survive. When I arrived in the classroom a couple of minutes after the 8:00 a.m. start time the kids were all over the place, talking and yelling. Eidoe was sitting at the teacher’s desk eating popcorn out of a large clear plastic bag. The principal Sari, new to the job, seems frazzled and a little overwhelmed by her new responsibilities - 500 students and around 60 teachers. Last week, while in the school’s office Aimee overheard Rahel the school secretary reprimand the principal for constantly dumping work on her without even a “boker tov” (good morning) or “ma shlomaich” (how are you?). At roller hockey on Sunday, Ezra complained that his helmet was hurting him. I thought the helmet was too tight and tried to adjust it to ease the pressure points. After hockey Ezra explained that the pain was not due to the helmet, at least not directly. Instead, earlier in the day one of his classmates had pushed him into the wall, and his head banged into a “pin” sticking out of the wall. Why, I asked, did the boy, push you into the wall? “Because I was in his way,” answered Ezra, in a matter-of-fact way. “They do it all the time.” I asked Ezra if the boy had first asked him to get out of the way. “No … nobody does that here,” replied Ezra. Everyone pushes if someone’s in the way. I suppose it’s a bit of a comfort that Ezra’s classmates were not targeting him for rough treatment. And he is picking up some useful Hebrew from his classmates who have called him “Temble” (idiot) and “Metumtum” (stupid). He’s also learned the word “chamor” (donkey) – though this insult was told to one of Ezra’s classmates who had also newly arrived from North America. What’s remarkable to me though, is that Ezra is not taking the pushing and insults personally. Rather, he seems to view the attacks as a force of nature that rolls over everything in its path. Sometimes he just happens to be in the path.

On a more positive note we’ve now we reached a rough family concensus on the five pizza places in the ‘hood. I should say at the outset that all are pretty good. “Big Apple” on Emek Rephaim and “Pizza Mae” on Palmach Street top the list (Pizza Mae is my choice though the boys prefer Apple), “Pizza Tsefera” in a lane between our apartment and the school falls in the middle (the boys give it a thumbs up for the free “barad” that comes with each slice), and in last place are the very popular (in a McDonalds kind of way) “Pizza Sababa” on Emek Rephaim, and “American Pie” on Dereh Beit Lechem (Bethleham Way).

An aside: It seems there’s truth to the old adage that guys lose weight in Israel, and women, well, don’t. A few days back while running with Rosie my running shorts fell off. Then the next day the hydration belt (with four water bottles) that I wear around my waste slipped down to my ankles while running.

Our apartment seems more and more like home, especially when we go away for Shabbat. So far we’ve been away three times – to Efrat (Benarrochs and Sandlers), Safed (Goldbergs), and most recently to Ma’ale Gilboa, where we stayed a week and a half ago over Shabbat with Ross and Emily Singer and family. We’ve enjoyed each visit, and our hosts have all been extremely hospitable. But we’ve come to realize that many people here live in very small-overcrowded apartments. Since my initial, somewhat negative, reaction to our new home a month and a half ago, I’ve come to appreciate the spaciousness of our living room/dining room/kitchen, the refreshing “breeeeeeeezah” (breeze) that criss-crosses the rooms, the fact that the boys each have their own room, our excellent albeit narrow shower, comfortable beds, and tiny washing machine that actually carries a bigger load than one would expect. And it works pretty well – at least since Yaneev from “Ron Technie” repaired it after we jammed it.

The past two weeks have been marked by new beginnings, some positive, others frustrating and difficult.

Sunday September 4th, was the first full school day. At 2:45 p.m. Aimee and I waited at the gate to the school-ground with trepidation. Would the boys show up looking miserable, defeated? Would there be tears in their eyes? Thankfully, they came running up with smiles on their faces, though it was hard to know if they were smiles of happiness or of relief that their school day was over. Either way, Aimee and I were relieved that our worst-case scenario had not materialized. We celebrated at Apple Pizza on Emek Rephaim, and bought the boys pearls at a nearby jewelry store. I don’t understand why, but the boys are currently on a pearl kick. In Ezra’s case it’s probably because he thinks that he’ll be able to resell his pearls at a huge profit, and in Adin’s case it’s because there are pearls on Club Penguin.

Next, the boys had their first “chug” (extracurricular activity) – Rrrrrrrrrrroller Hockey. Adin, as usually, was reluctant to join in and I had to put on my inline skates and coax him out onto the roller rink. There were about five or six other boys in his group and, surprisingly, the coach Ben is outstanding. He’s great with the boys, speaks excellent English and is a highly skilled coach and player. The boys on the other hand looked and played like they were straight out of the Mighty Ducks. Most had no equipment except for crappy roller blades, bike helmets and sticks – some with plastic blades. Some had odds and ends of hockey equipment; one had a real helmet, another shin pads tied onto the outside of his pants with string, a third had elbow pads. And none, except for Adin and Ezra had gloves – which are the most important piece of equipment apart from helmets since hand and wrist injuries are the most common roller blading injury. Skaters who fall – and these skaters fall a lot – almost invariably fall forward onto their hands. Repeatedly throughout the three Rrrrrrrrrroller Hockey sessions to date the Israel boys were constantly rubbing their hands after taking a hard fall. It’s amazing that there have been no significant injuries so far, but it’s only a matter of time. While the boys wore their bike/skateboard helmets the first time, I had them both in their hockey helmets with full face cages for the second outing.

Ezra’s age group played immediately after Adin’s. Ezra was so far beyond the boys playing with him that Ben invited him to stay with the oldest group that played right after him. Consequently, Ezra ended up playing – and more than holding his own – with 14-16 year old teenagers, some of whom were more than a foot taller and dozens of pounds heavier. While it was good for Ezra’s self-esteem to play with they teenagers, Ezra commented afterwards that they were “not appropriate.” By that he meant that they constantly swore in English, were rude and obnoxious, and only occasionally following Ben’s directions.

Throughout all this, other kids and adults constantly came onto the hockey rink with bikes, scooters and roller blades, or simply walked through the middle of the rink oblivious to the fact that there was an “organized” roller-hockey game taking place. A 70-something park employee - apparently responsible of keeping the rink clear of outsiders during the chug - kept telling them in heavily Russian-accented-Hebrew to clear the rink – with limited success. The fact that the park is located near neighbourhood of Abu Tor also meant that most of those coming onto the rink were Arabs, which added a language and cultural challenge to the effort to keep the Rrrrrrrrroller hockey session going. A week later, the park added another Russian to the ground crew, but with no more success.

Ben, to his great credit, never loses his cool, retains a smile on his face, and somehow manages to keep the drills and games going despite the incursions, and unruliness of his players.

Monday September 5 Adin started his basketball chug, which is right after school in the school gym twice a week. Ezra’s in the same program on two other afternoons each week. “HaPo’el Yerushalayim” – which is part of a large nationwide sports organization - does the program in dozens of schools around the city (and nation-wide). Hapo’el also owns professional sports teams around the country including the HaPo’el Yerushalayim team here in Jerusalem. In fact, the boys’ basketball coach Me’ere is a professional basketball player on the Jerusalem team. Which is the local equivalent of a Vancouver Canuck coaching the boys’ Thunderbirds hockey teams in Vancouver. Now how cool is that? And from what the boys tell us, Me’ere is a nice guy and a great coach. After several basketball sessions so far, I can confirm that the boys always show up after basketball with flushed faces, sweaty hair, and big smiles.

After basketball, the boys along with Ezra’s buddy Eedoe – who had come over to “do homework” with Ezra - headed with Aimee over to Braichut Yerushalayim (the Jerusalem Pool) to cool down. Since the boys can swim well enough to make it back to the edge of the pool, Aimee and I can leave them on their own while we swim laps. While Adin was swimming on his own the “Matseel” (lifeguard) approached him and asked Adin how old he was. Adin replied that he was seven. The matseel told him that kids under ten are not allowed to swim without a parent accompanying them. Adin got out of the pool and reported the conversation to Aimee. Aimee then approached the matseel and confirmed what Adin had said. Remarkably – Adin’s encounter with the matseel was entirely in Hebrew. Very encouraging. Aimee then asked another matseel about this “rule” – which unlike other rules is not posted anywhere. This second matseel said he had never heard of such a rule. Which, I suppose in not such a surprise in a country in which everyone seems to make up their own rules.

Being the custodian of a relatively high-end mountain bike thanks to Neri’s Israeli cousin Yoram, my project for Tuesday September 5th was to take my mountain bike in for a “keevnun” – a tune-up - at “Pedalim” bike shop in the adjacent neighbourhood of Talpiot. One of my yoga-rabbi-mountainbiking-buddies had recommended Pedalim. … What a pleasure. In a country where the real world can be a frustrating and exasperating place, Pedalim was high-end, professional, and user-friendly. But for the fact that everything was in Hebrew, it felt like Vancouver. The fellow I dealt with asked me for an upper-limit beyond which they’d call me to confirm I wanted the repair done. I said, “oo-lai may’ah shekel,” (perhaps100 hundred shekels – about $40) to which he laughed and said “may’ah shekel?? Ze klum!!!” (100 shekels?? That’s nothing!!!). So I said, “B’seder, Nagid mata’im shekel” (Okay, let’s say 200 shekel.) This time no scoff so I figured I had hit a reasonable amount. They did the bike the same day, despite a long backlog, and it cost all of 50 skekels. My bike-guy explained that he always errs on the high side so people are pleasantly surprised.

That Tuesday was also Adin’s first (he’s now had three) violin lesson with his “famous” teacher Michael Greilsammer. As it turns out, after asking around and looking on line, Michael really is famous and, if you check out his website or go to youtube, he truly is a world class cutting-edge talent. Aimee mentioned this morning, I think quite rightly, that there are probably lots of kids inspired by Michael who are now playing violin in Israel because of him. He’s the first Israeli musician I’ve listened in years apart from the Moshav Band whose CDs I would happily buy.

Adin, however, (to his credit) is not impressed by fame or long dreadlocks. As with all new people, Adin is taking his time warming up to Michael, who has been working hard to improve Adin’s fundamentals - such as how Adin stands, holds his violin and bow, and moves the bow across the strings in long-even-confident strokes. Important stuff, but not so much fun for a seven year old. A woman at the Jerusalem Music Centre, a premier performing venue in town, described Michael to us as “very Russian”; which I understood to mean very strict in his emphasis on fundamentals and learning the right way to do things from the get-go. At the same time, Michael is very gentle and sweet with Adin, perhaps because he has a young son himself. I really hope Michael wins over Adin, who is not an easy date. It’s been a struggle to motivate Adin so far, but now after three lessons, and chocolate treats from Michael after each lesson, Adin seems to be showing signs of opening up to Michael. My promise of a one-on-one Baba-Adin playdate including another treat after each lesson may have helped.

So far, we have not found a guitar teacher for Ezra, but the same young woman at the Jerusalem Music Centre gave us the name and number of a professional guitarist and teacher (who is not so famous). She said he’s a super nice guy so hopefully something will come from that. We’ve spoke on the phone and will be having a get together next Monday to see if it’s a good “shiduch” (match). By the way, not famous comes a lot cheaper than famous.

Two weeks ago Tuesday was also Ezra’s first time at Tsofim – the Israeli Scouts organization. Ezra’s now been to Tsofim four times and seems happy to go, and happy on his return. Pretty much his entire grade at school attends the same Tsofim group, Tuesday and Saturday afternoons. The first Tsofim get-together featured filling one’s mouth with whipped cream and then saying one’s name out loud, davening (praying), playing “Messeerot” (catch) with water balloons, making pita and then eating it stuffed with chocolate spread. All things Ezra loves to do, with the possible exception of davening – though Ezra did get his highest marks last year at Hebrew Academy in davening.

On Wednesday September 7th Rosie and I started off our day with a run around the Old City. I’d never done this before since it would involve running through Arab neighbourhoods (primarily Silwan near the City of David) on the other side of the divide, including areas that have been flash points for conflict, demonstrations and violence. But hey, you only live once, so what the heck. I came out unscathed but there were definitely some sketchy areas where the streets were about 1 car width wide and filled with kids on their way to school and adults on the way to work. Reactions to our presence varied depending on age and gender, and Rosie got the worst of it in an area where dogs as pets seemed non-existent. The only canines we encountered were several wild and slavering dogs moving, possibly hunting, in a pack. As for the humans, the adults either looked at us in disbelief or completely ignored us, the little girls looked at us with amusement, while the boys tried to startle Rosie, sometimes quite aggressively, by yelling or stomping near her head. Overall, I figured that by the time anyone potentially violent fully digested our presence we would be long gone. One thing for sure - the other side of the line, though mere steps from Jewish Jerusalem in many places, is a universe away.

Later that morning Aimee had her first glass-bead-making session with Amnon and Robyn in Givat Ze’ev. While Aimee worked on the torch in the studio I sat outside and did ulpan homework on the back terrace. Without distractions we both had productive mornings. Later in the day we had a family supper at “Rosa’s” Restaurant – the best value in a sit-down restaurant in the German Colony.

Large swaths of the week of Friday September 9th – to Friday the16th have blanked out for me now, having fallen so far back in blogging recently. A few things did stick in my mind though. We had a warm and welcoming Shabbat staying with Rabbi Ross and Emily Singer in their new home on Kibbutz Ma’ale Gilboa, located on a hilltop overlooking the Jezriel Valley to the north, the scorching-hot Beth She’an Valley to the east, and two extremely close Arab villages to the south which are separated from the kibbutz by a security fence. Ross is working at a Yeshiva (religious seminary) there whose students study in conjunction with their military service. There are other programs elsewhere in the country for Israeli boys to study while doing their military service, but the Ma’ale Gilboa program is unique in that the participants do their full military service whereas those in other programs get a reduction in their service.

The Singers’ place is … compact, but the Singers and their four kids made us feel very much at home. Even Rosie won over all the Singers who were uneasy about having a dog in the house at the start. And Ezra and Adin just loved their boys; E&A spent almost all their waking hours with the Singer boys, including a couple of marathon games of Risk.

It was great to see Ross and Emily so happy in their new home, after many years of moving from place to place – including a seven year stint in Vancouver. Though Shabbat ended at around 8:00 p.m. on Saturday, we didn’t depart until around 10:00 p.m., we were so reluctant to leave. A 10:00 p.m. departure, however, meant a midnight arrival back home in Jerusalem – on a school night – and a struggle to get the boys up Sunday morning.

At 11:00 a.m. on Sunday 9/11 I returned to the Misrad Ha’Pnim (Ministry of the Interior) for the third time to apply for extensions of our visas, and to apply for a visa that would allow me to work in the country. The reception clerk directed me to counter 3 for my appointment. Pursuant to this direction I sat down at counter 3, though no-one was on the other side of the plexiglass barrier at the time, or at the adjacent counter 5. Perhaps my appointment coincided with the end of the morning break. After several minutes clerk #5 returned and demanded to know why I was seated at counter 3 when the person working at counter 3 was absent, and informed me that it is forbidden to sit at a counter when no Ministry official was present. I apologized and explained that the reception clerk had directed me to counter 3. I walked a few steps away and sat in the waiting area wondering what possible mischief a supplicant at the Misrad Ha’Pnim could do from the wrong side of a plexiglass barrier. After a few more minutes clerk #3 appeared. Apparently clerk #5 had informed clerk #3 of my transgression and she too berated me for having sat at the counter in her absence. Again, I apologized and explained, but clerk #3 did not appear appeased. Clearly this did not bode well for my chances of walking out with new visas and a work permit.

I described and presented to clerk #3 the documents I had collected. She looked at the letter that our Vancouver Rabbi, Ilan Acoca, had emailed me, which confirmed our Jewish marriage (documentation of which the Misrad Ha’Pnim had demanded on my previous visit) and membership in Beth HaMidrash synagogue, and provided contact information if the Misrad Ha’Pnim had any questions. Though legible, the emailed copy of the letter was a little blurry. Without even looking at the letter, clerk #3 tossed it aside and said, “I can’t read this. I’ll need to forward all documents to the Jewish Agency and they won’t be able to read it either.” Clerk #3 then handed the letter to clerk #5 saying, “Look at this. No one could read this.” Clerk #5, however, said “I can read it” - which only made clerk #3 even more ornery. I then presented clerk #3 with a letter from Rabbi Benarroch, the previous rabbi from Beth HaMidrash who is now living in Israel, confirming that he had married us in a kosher Jewish wedding in Vancouver in 2000. Clerk #3 then tossed this letter aside as well, saying that the Misrad Ha’Pnim will only consider information from a Rabbi living outside Israel. Then Clerk #3 demanded to see all our birth certificates, which had not been requested during my previous visits to the Misrad Ha’Pnim. I also did not have a copy of my civil wedding certificate, but offered to provide a copy of our Jewish wedding certificate – our “Ketuba”. But no, even though much of this rigamarole was about providing proof that we were Jewish, a Jewish wedding certificate would not do, said clerk #3. Only our civil wedding certificate would suffice. Needless, to say, our meeting ended without my getting any visas or work permit. I did get another appointment though – for Sunday September 25th.

I do not want to leave anything to chance on September 25th; Rabbi Acoca has now provided me with a new, clear, letter. And, amazingly, our friends/tenants in Vancouver were able to track down our civil wedding certificate in an unmarked cardboard box amongst dozens of bins and boxes in our Vancouver attic. … Clearly Moshiach (the Messiah) must be on his way.

Wednesday evening, September 14th, Aimee and I had a meet the teacher evening with both Adin’s and Ezra’s teachers. We felt almost like locals sitting at the little desks with the other parents – mostly moms. Adin’s teachers – Levana and Tal - were warm and friendly and came across as very nurturing. We both thought this was the perfect setting for Adin, and they were the perfect teachers. Ezra’s teacher – Hana – on the other hand was business-like and made it clear that she expected her students to take responsibility for themselves and conduct themselves like older mature kids. A few parents observed that their kids come home saying they have no homework, and suggested that Hana send the parents a daily email explicitly setting out homework assignments. This way the parents would have reliable first-hand information on what homework there is. Hana said that she writes out all the homework assignments on the board and insisted that it was up to the students to copy it down.

Our most important goal for the meetings was to express our concern to Hana over the fact that Ezra was sitting alone in class, without a buddy, and to convey our desire that he be placed with someone, anyone. Even Ezra was now insisting that he did not want to go to school again as long as he was sitting alone. Hana agreed, and said she intended to switch all the pairings in class the next day. It would appear that Sari the principal had already spoken to her about this. The next morning, Aimee accompanied Ezra to school, and had resolved to bring Ezra home straight away if Hana did not place him with another boy from the very start of the day. In the classroom Aimee asked Hana to place Ezra with a non-English-speaking boy who didn’t “hate” Ezra. Hana was taken aback by the request on two fronts; first, she had intended to seat Ezra once again with the English-speaking Eedoe, and second she was shocked to hear Aimee use the word “hate.” On the first point Aimee told Hana that a second new boy from America understood no Hebrew and needed Eedoe more than Ezra did. Regarding her use of the word “hate”, Aimee said a few of the boys had told Ezra they hated him because he was new to the class. Hana acquiesced and placed Ezra with a non-English speaker which, after one week now, seems to be working okay.

The week ended with the boys and I having haircuts by Roberto Rollia – thanks to a recommendation from former German Colony resident Yoni Gordis. Roberto recalls that Yoni had hair that went half way down his back. Roberto also used to cut the hair of Adin’s violin teacher, Michael. When I mentioned Roberto to Michael, Michael smiled through his mop of dreadlocks and said, “as you can see I don’t let Roberto touch my hair anymore.”

---

Comments

[shawn hawkins]

Shana Tova
Totally enjoying your blogs Fred. Shana Tova to all. S.