IDF BAND IN MOSCOW’S RED SQUARE

Those of you old enough to remember the 1970s – 80s may well  recall the plight of the Jews in the Soviet Union, whose pride in their religion and homeland was awakened after the 6 Day War and  who applied to emigrate to Israel.

Their request was refused ( hence their name Refusenicks) and they immediately lost their jobs ad were never able to get  comparable employment. They  were lucky if they were able to find some menial work,to avoid being labeled a ‘parasite’ by the government and imprisoned or sent to Siberia.

Jobless and incomeless their condition was desperate and much of the money which was sent from abroad to try and help them was confiscated before it ever reached them.

Those of us who grew up in Britain and the USA during those years remember the organisations which were formed to try and help Soviet Jewry and the demonstrations and hunger strikes outside the Soviet Embassies around the world.

1974 New York Rally outside the Soviet Mission to the United Nations

I couldn’t help thinking of this as I watched the video below of the IDF Band, performing in Red Square in Moscow, underneath a  large flag of  Israel.

Thank  G’d times  have changed – and in some ways for the better.

 

 

BEFORE YOU TURN IT ON - THINK OF YOUR CHILDREN’S BRAINS

As a teacher  I have been worried, horrified is more the word, by the rapidly growing number of  students/ pupils labeled ADD and ADHD.

Why so many? Why so many more nowadays?

I work with people of all ages from 8 – 28, but the vast majority of those with ADD are  aged between 8 – 15 years.

In every branch of society there are children who suffer from the chemical imbalance which causes  ADD and ADHD, but I wondered whether there was another form of ADD which is caused, not  by a chemical imbalance, but by the environment in which a child grows.

I work with non-religious, religious and ultra orthodox children and ADD is much more prevalent amongst the non-religious and religious population  than with the ultra-orthodox. This led me to wonder what was specifically  different  about the home life of the ultra orthodox and the BIG answer is television, or rather the lack of it.

I have always thought that a child who sits passively  glued to a flickering moving screen for hours on end, from an early age, cannot remain unaffected. Their brains, minds, ability to interact with other children, play  games, read and write are all affected by this  ‘mindless babysitter’

I’m not alone in my feelings. The magazine PEDIATRICS reported on a study conducted so see if there was a link between television and ADD and found that:

The study revealed that each hour of television watched per day at ages 1-3 increases the risk of attention problems, such as ADHD, by almost 10 percent at age 7. The study controls for other attributes of the home environment including cognitive stimulation and emotional support.

The findings also suggest that preventive action can be taken to minimize the risk of attention problems in children. Limiting young children’s exposure to television during the formative years of brain development, consistent with the American Academy of Pediatrics’ (AAP) recommendations, may reduce a child’s subsequent risk of developing ADHD. The AAP recommends parents avoid letting their children under the age of 2 years watch television.

ADD/ ADHD can’t be cured, only controlled, if you find the right help for your child.

And for those who suffer from ADD and ADHD, whatever the reason, our society seems to be convinced that they have to be calmed down and pacified in some way to make life easier for the teacher.

Sir Ken Robinson has other ideas – as he usually does – about how to treat hyperactive children.

Watch this illustrated / animated video of his latest thoughts on educational paradigms.

KRISTALLNACHT

The night of November 9th / 10th, known as  kristallnacht  ( the night of the broken glass) is the anniversary of  one of the most  terrible and horrifying  events that led to the   intensifying of Nazi pogroms against Jews and the ‘final solution’ of the Holocaust.

In one night  over 1600 synagogues were ransacked and torn apart and 267 were burnt to the ground. Jewish homes and businesses in Germany and Austria were destroyed  and broken glass from shattered windows littered the streets.

Thirty thousand Jewish men were arrested and taken to concentration camps, amongst them, my grandfather.

There is no shortage of  terrifying and heart rending  stories – many of which  almost defy belief  - about  the suffering that Jews went through and the  sacrifices they made to help each other and retain their own sense of humanity.

 

And there are stories of people who survived the Nazi hell and  took their horrifying experiences and used them to ensure that others would not have to suffer the  feeling of being without family or home – like Hanna Bar Yesha below.

 

 

The story told below ( which you may have seen as it went viral on the internet this month) is slightly different as  Alice Sommer Herz was a concert pianist and this saved her life when  she was chosen to be in the camp orchestra in Theresienstadt.   Theresienstadt  was  a ‘so-called’ model  concentration camp that the Germans built to  try and convince the world that  all their concentration camps were as  humane and holiday-camp like as this one . Here the  starving inmates, under threat of immediate extermination,  had to play   music, sing in choirs and perform plays to show how cultured and fun their life was. 

Her love of life and appreciation of everything she has is an inspiration to us all. She bears no hatred for  anyone which could be the reason that at 106, apart from being the oldest Holocaust survivor, she also still plays her beloved piano regularly and entertains her many friends every day in her flat. Her ‘simchat chaim’  joy of life on a daily basis is an inspiration to us all.

UNFORTUNATELY THE 12 MINUTE VIDEO IN WHICH ALICE DESCRIBES HER LIFE IN THE CAMP,  HER MUSIC AND HER LIFE NOW   HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM THE INTERNET SINCE THIS POST WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN.

I HOPE YOU MANAGED TO SEE IT SOMEWHERE IT WAS TRULY INSPIRING .

 

In a post several months ago I told  of another  story that took place in Theresienstadt , the  setting up of a  beautifully decorated, hidden synagogue.

The descendents of Asher Berlinger  who risked his life to build and decorate this shul are still looking for anyone who actually  saw this shul while they were in the camp during the war.

Thank G’d my parents and both sets of grandparents  escaped from Germany and, compared to so many others, did not suffer  torments at the hands of the Nazis. The Holocaust  was rarely mentioned in our home when I was a child, as far as I can remember, and it was only as a teenager that I started to think about it.

Nevertheless, in some way I still think of myself as a 2nd generation survivor with an obligation to ensure that our children and grandchildren  don’t just think of this as another part of  Jewish history.

The reverberations of the Holocaust are still with us. Holocaust denial is an accepted contagious  disease  spreading throughout the Western world and neo-Nazism  and anti-Semitism, in  many forms and disguises, are  getting stronger every day.

We’d be blind  fools to think it couldn’t happen again.

TO CALL OR NOT TO CALL

In a recent email exchange with an old friend and fellow writer,  Ros Adam, I reminisced about the days when, if I wanted to speak to my parents,  I had to book an international call a week in advance, from the international operator of the Israel telephone company.

Then I had to make sure that I was at home to receive the call from the operator to connect me to my parents far away from sunny Jerusalem, in not-too-sunny Leicester.

In those day, 40 years ago, and even when we returned here 27 years ago, telephones, whilst not a luxury, were certainly not a ‘given’ in any home.

We had to wait a year until we received our telephones in our new apartment in Ramot., in 1983. After it had been installed, all of a sudden our 18 month old twins suddenly crawled over to their toy box, took out their Fisher-Price telephone and started playing with it, turning the dial, picking it up and talking into it . We suddenly realized that until then, they hadn’t had any idea what to do with it.

We are now ‘blessed’ with a tel/fax , a cordless phone ( and you may remember just what I think of our cordless phone) and three cell phones – with bills to match.

Are we better off? I doubt it but I must admit that I’ve come to rely on them all

I can remember when one morning quite a few years ago,I got on the bus and pulled out my purse to pay. I looked in horror at the empty pocket where my cell phone fits . I always had it with me just in case one of my teenagers or the younger children’s babysitter needs to contact me.

I sat down and stared at the empty space, like an amputee looking at his missing limb.

None of the younger children called to say that they don’t like this sitter and why couldn’t they have the one I got last week who let them all jump on her and tear her hair out while she lay on the floor pretending to be dead.

No one called to say “ she started it first and it’s not fair and Mummy you must tell her that it’s my turn and she hit me and you’ve got to tell her off and when are you coming home?.”

No one called to ask me what was for lunch.

No one called to ask me where I had put their purple skirt and blouse that they had dropped on the floor last week and hadn’t seen since.

No one called to ask me to tell their younger sister that it was her turn to wash the dishes.

No one called to tell me to ignore the phone call I was about to get from her older sister, telling me that she had behaved very badly because it wasn’t true and really it was all the older one’s fault.

No one called to ask me why there was nothing to eat in the fridge.

No one called to ask permission for something I usually say ‘no’ to. hoping that I’m not really paying attention and so I’m more likely to say “yes” to all sorts of things I would never dream of agreeing to face-to-face.

None of my teenage daughters called to ask me if one of her friends had left a message by mistake on my cell-phone for them because no one had called her for at least an hour.

I wandered calmly around the stores, spent much longer than usual in the bookshop, indulged in an uninterrupted cup of coffee with a friend, and as I passed a woman with 2 children , suddenly a horrible feeling of fear overcame me. What if heaven forbid something terrible had happened and no one could contact me.

I rushed off to find a pay-phone. “ Hi Kids. Just touching base. Is everything OK?”

Oh the wonders of modern technology.

HEBREW SPEAKING KNIGHTS IN THE OLD CITY

 

In the interests of my work as a travel writer , I decided to follow the path of the ancient Jerusalem Knights when they visited the Old City last week courtesy of the Jerusalem Development Authority and and Ministry of Tourism.

They will be there every Thursday in October from 7.30 – 10.30.

I have to admit that as someone who grew up with an English education, my picture of knights in shining armour was slightly different from the Hebrew speaking, Jewish  ones we met there.

Not surprisingly, the whole performance was based in the Christian Quarter, but the truth is that no one really paid any attention to the surroundings. The whole circular  trail  that started just  inside Jaffa Gate was packed tightly with local Israelis and tourists intent on working their way round the  map we were given at Jaffa Gate where the performance started.

Every few yards we found another knight, medieval king, queen, buffoon, princess, magicians, jugglers, court jesters, muse, troubadour, beggar or some other refugee from the middle Ages.

 

The costumes, acting and music was in the most part well done and the whole performance  was fun although the introductory performance was  in my opinion too long and unnecessary  and few spectators bothered to watch it all.

It was pleasantly surprising that most of the spectators who crowded the narrow alleys of the Old City, kept moving and there was little pushing and shoving. Even small children managed to get a good look at all  various scenes.  

 

Hope that security guard in the back wasn’t meant to challenge the Giant.

 

Watching out for the  slaves escaping from the slave market.

How else is a little knight meant to get a good look?

 

A friendly knight getting down to children’s level.

A final serenade  before leaving …….. and then just when you think you’re safe

There another one waiting to attack just where you parked your car.

JERUSALEM BOTANICAL GARDENS

 

 

The Jerusalem Botanical Gardens are  situated in Yehuda Burla Street, close to the Hebrew University campus at Givat Ram, and round the corner from  the Israel Museum and the Bible Lands Museum.

It is  a delight to visit at any time of the year , but especially  at Autumn / Fall/Sukkot time  when the leaves are starting to fall and the  bright shots of color contrast the greens and grays .

Take a ride in the mini train and then alight and take a long walk along the paths and winding stairs which  will lead you from one section to the next.

The gardens are divided into the different  continents of the world each with plants and flowers indigenous to their area with a large central lake and visitors center.

 

Over  10,000 varieties of plants from all over the world can be seen here.

There is also a tropical greenhouse and a special Butterfly House which  has been reopened just for Chol Homed Sukkot.

Descriptions and explanations are given in English and Hebrew

 

 

 

 

ENJOY YOUR VISIT

A TIME TO TAKE

 

As I prepare for Rosh Hashanah this year my thoughts can’t help going back a year.

My mother was in hospital having fractured her leg in two places.  The breathing complications caused by the operation were life threatening. Two out of us four sisters were in England at her bedside, I was at home in Jerusalem awaiting the Brit of a grandson and my other sister in America was packing and making calls to try to arrange Yom Tov meals for  her stay in the Royal Free Hospital in London over Rosh Hashanah.

Chesed organizations were arranging to send in food to an apartment near the hospital which they provided for visitors who had to be at the hospital over Shabbat and Yom Tov.

Some strangers who lived not far away had also invited her for a meal.

Her recipe and menu file had been abandoned in Teaneck, her visitors cancelled and neighbors and friends were taking care of her family and hosting them for the two days.

My turn came after Yom Kippur. As soon as the Fast was over and I had eaten something, I started packing. While my family was beginning to build our sukkah, I was hunting out my winter clothes. I needed a warm jacket for sitting in a chilly English sukkah, a raincoat for the inevitable English rain and walking shoes as I had no idea how far I’d have to walk between the hospital and where I’d be staying. And for the first time in 26 years I’d be keeping two days Yom Tov.

Then I started to write out the lists for those I was leaving at home. There were lists of cooked food in the freezer / shopping lists / the various places where the sukkah decorations were stored / details of where I’d arranged to borrow extra tables and chairs / where and how much disposable tableware we had / how to fix the Shabbat time switch etc. All the little things that I do, never thinking that one year I won’t be there to do them, had to be put down in writing.

At 2am I was on a flight from Tel Aviv to London.

I arrived at Heathrow, dropped my case off at the family where I was staying, introduced myself and went straight off to see my mother. Although my other sisters who had been with her before I arrived, had warned me, it was a shock to see her so helpless and frail The last time I had seen Mum, only 3 months before, she had still been independent and in her own apartment .

Two days later on erev Sukkot, with no warning, the doctor decided to transfer my mother to a rehabilitation hospital. If I didn’t quickly find new Yom Tov accommodation for myself near her new hospital, Mum would be alone for the two days .

I cringed at the thought of having to start asking favors from strangers once again..

But however much I disliked the idea, I knew I had to find somewhere so that I could be near my mother. I put out a call through friends and chesed organizations in London, for someone to find me new sleeping accommodation while I was busy helping Mum pack her things and arranging the move.

I was soon given the details of a family 15 minutes walk from the hospital . The warmth of the family more than made up for the cold weather, but still, as a grandmother myself, I was long past my student days of happily eating Yom Tov meals amongst strangers and making casual small talk about my ‘future plans’. I was physically and emotionally drained from traveling and packing, unpacking and moving and all the time worrying about Mum.

The family I stayed with were exceptionally kind and welcoming and Miriam, my hostess, offered to continue visiting Mum when I returned to Israel. Still feeling uncomfortable, I almost refused her offer but just stopped myself and instead thanked her and said I was sure my mother would be delighted if she would visit. her

It took time, but I was slowly getting used to asking favors and receiving kindness and help from strangers. Just as King Solomon says in Kohelet (Ecclesiastes) which we read on Sukkot “ To everything there is a time” . I realized that in order to help my mother, I had to accept that this was my time to take. In order to be able to give my mother whatever she needed, I had to ask for and take whatever assistance others were able to provide.

I had no idea then, that this would be the last time I was to see my mother. She died of heart failure a few days before my next visit, totally unexpectedly, just days before she was due to be discharged from hospital.

That Sukkot had been my last opportunity to physically honor and care for my mother in person. I am so grateful to all those people and organisations,  whose help, hospitality and kindness to me, a complete stranger, made it possible.