My Friend Rita

April 21, 2024 by

 

Last night I received the tragic news of the passing of my dear colleague, Rita Silber. Rita was my friend and I will always miss her.

On the train to Machu Picchu

 

Rita and I met as colleagues- tour managers. Rita had years of experience and I was still fairly new. Rita, fluent in French, Hebrew, English and who knows how many other languages, was not only a consummate professional, but she was a warm, accepting colleague.

Rita and I had many adventures together. Once she led a group of French speakers to Vietnam and Cambodia alongside the group I led of English speakers. We worked together, side by side like a well-oiled machine. I never could achieve her level of elegance, but I certainly enjoyed her company.

I can’t remember at what point in our relationship we did Ecuador, Galapagos Islands, and Peru together, but we did that tour together twice. The first time, she was learning the route which I had already done . On that tour we had a largely Australian group. Both of us were worried about our lack of experience with Australian groups and were concerned about such things as the possible different sense of humor they might have. The group (which also included members from the US and Great Britain), turned out to be absolutely delightful- happy, spirited people with a robust sense of humor. We very much enjoyed that tour.

That tour was preparation for a much larger tour (about 50 people) that was a high level tour for VIPs.  We had another guide, a seasoned expert (fluent in 15 languages- yes, really!), Rita was our logistics person and we also traveled with our own chef and a mashgiach (kosher supervisor). Rita always knew how to get what we needed and even more from the hotels where we stayed. She never compromised on the quality of accommodations or service and most of the time, it was her charm that influenced people. However, when the powers that be were not cooperative, she knew how to be firm and she did prevail.

That tour was challenging in many ways- we had to deal with the leader of the group who was not aware of the limitations we dealt with and who had a very short fuse. We were, for the only time in her career, our colleague’s 40 year long career, and mine, of course, told by our guests that we were to sit at the staff table! The guests did not even learn our names. Our experienced colleague, Rita, and I all began to count the days until the tour would be over.

In the Galapagos, Rita and I got a very large room with a balcony on the ship. The leader of the group had rented the entire ship which held 100- and even with staff, we numbered only about 55- so there were cabins available and the staff on the ship gave us a premium room. One night we had a really rough sea. Apparently, I slept through most of the movement. When I got up in the morning, Rita said to me something about how rough the sea had been. I told her I didn’t notice. She said, “then how do you explain when you got up in the middle of the night you were running from one side of the room to the other!” We both burst out laughing, because I did have a vague memory of that…

When we arrived in Lima, Peru, one couple had mistakenly been assigned a room with a double bed instead of the twin beds they had requested. Rita and I, who were sharing a room, gave our room to them and we slept head to foot- but we did giggle a lot and made the best of it.

After our arrival in Cusco and subsequent visit to Machu Picchu, we stopped at Sacsayhuaman where the Incas had put up walls of huge rocks. It was a place just ripe for photos and so the group all stood in front of one of the rock walls and handed us about 50 cameras. Now this was already during the digital age and really, one or two photos would have been enough to distribute to everyone,. But they insisted we take a photo with everyone’s camera. So once they settled into their places, we started taking pictures. It was a sunny day and virtually all of them were wearing sunglasses. After we started taking the photos, we got yelled at: We hadn’t told people to look our way. We could not see their eyes. In a group that large, it was hard to see any details. But we took the pictures again!

The last night, the leader decided that he had made a wrong decision about the venue for their last group activity. We were in a restaurant where Rita had been supervising the preparation of dinner for several hours. This leader wanted the restaurant to exclusively serve his group and actually went and offered money to people who were either waiting for their order or eating- to leave the restaurant. All three of us were appalled. Rita left the restaurant and walked back to the hotel and rented a large meeting room for a significant amount of money so they could have their private meeting. The hotel was a good 15-20 minute walk away and all of that was necessitated by the poor planning of their leader. When we returned to Israel, it was to a letter sent to the company about the incompetence of all of the guides. Our boss was not impressed. He knew who he was dealing with.

After that adventure, Rita joined me on a trip to Japan, to learn yet another destination for her touring. We spent some pleasant time there as well.

Over the years, she and I would meet from time to time for coffee or for lunch and always for interesting and pleasant conversation. Rita was a remarkable person and I will miss her.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Passage to India

July 22, 2022 by

This story actually begins in April of 2009. Our charismatic grandson, Daniel, was speaking at his bar mitzvah celebration. He spent time thanking his parents and his other grandparents and then he came to us- (we had been working as tour managers to exotic places since 2006) and said that in case we were interested, he would be available to travel at the end of June…

That small, humorous comment set off a firecracker inside of me because thank G-d, my grandchildren are not in need of any additional material objects. All of them are living in homes where everything they need and practically all of what they want are provided. Here was a way that we could gift the grandchildren with something that they will experience and remember. Including one trip I took to China with a granddaughter who had asked me numerous times to pack her in my suitcase, we have taken 22 of our grandchildren on tours ranging from a tour around Northern Israel, to a short Mediterranean cruise, to tours to Barcelona, Amsterdam, Venice, Ecuador, and India. This summer, having had our plans for 2020 and 2021 ruined by Covid, we had decided to do two tours- the two boys to India and the two girls to Ecuador (both being the second time for these locations).

We were to take off for India on Sunday, July 3- coincidently, our 56th wedding anniversary. It had been weeks that we were planning this tour, anticipating it, getting whatever we needed ready: making sure that passports were good for long enough, getting our Covid vaccination certificates, sending photos of our passports to the tour operator, applying for our visas (receiving them and printing them), going over the itinerary, etc. Finally the day of the tour arrived. We  had a picture of all of us taken as we were leaving the house.

We left in a large van and arrived at the airport. We all were very excited. We had been waiting for this day for a very long time. We went through the initial security and finally we got to the check-in desk.  All of my papers were organized. They asked for passports- check! vaccination records- check! visas- check! But no, my visa was not good. It was in fact dated about 3 years ago. I couldn’t believe it. I had applied at the proper web site for an E-visa.  I filled everything out. I paid the money, I got a confirmation, and then it arrived. I thought it odd that it arrived almost by return mail and that the photo was an old photo, but I didn’t think to look at the effective date. It had expired years ago.  The same happened with my husband’s visa. “What can I do?” I asked. They told me, “Go home and apply for another visa.” Apparently someone had hacked the site and finding an old visa of ours, he was able to send it to me and take the money I had spent for the visa. The same thing happened to my husband.  We had no choice. We had to go home. They would not let us on the plane- and even if they had, the authorities in India would have sent us home.

There were only 2 flights a week from Ben Gurion to Delhi and so we had to decide should we try for Wednesday night or the next Sunday. We opted for the following Sunday so as to not need to form a whole new itinerary.

But this got mega-confusing because we had to apply for new visas, but who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen. In the end, we were advised to use our US passports since we had not received any past visas as US citizens. We also had to change the hotel reservations (our Indian travel agency was successful at getting all of the hotels to change the reservations with no additional payment), we had to change the internal flights (which was an expensive proposition), we had to change the insurance (which our son-in-law was able to do with no additional cost), and worst of all, we had to change our flight tickets round-trip between Israel and Delhi.

One of our sons did that successfully reducing the outrageous amount they tried to charge us. It still was not cheap, but it was better than what it could have been.

And then the wait began. We didn’t receive out new visas until Thursday. But even then I was worried. I imagined something would go wrong.

Finally Sunday arrived.

and happily, everything went well.  Despite the immigration agent in Delhi being unclear: “put your four?fore/fingers on the screen for prints. No, no! Your fore?four/fingers.”  This went on for about 6 or 7 times until we understood what he wanted. It was the forefinger of each hand.

Finally we emerged, saw our good friends, Boby and Nitesh, and received garlands of marigolds in greeting. Later we visited the city monuments in beautiful New Delhi.

 

The next day we were off to Agra to visit the impressive red sandstone Agra fort. From there one can in the distance, see the Taj Mahal.

Needless to say, this was a very special day. Because of the monsoon rains (more about that later) and two years of Covid, a bright and sunny afternoon brought out hundreds of Indian tourists. Having been to the Taj Mahal somewhere between 12 and 15 times, I have never seen such large crowds!

After some time in Delhi including a rickshaw ride in Old Delhi, we made our way to Dharamshala, home to a very large Tibetan community, and, of course, the Dalai Lama. One of the most impressive places to visit there is the Tibetan Children’s Village. This is a residential school for children aged 3 through high school- well organized, well run. They serve about 1500 children. The children are taught Tibetan culture, but also responsibility. On a previous tour we were spellbound watching 4 and 5 year olds spontaneously helping each other with their math exercises. They also sang for us a couple of children’s songs in English. Their dwellings are clean and their time for learning and recreation is well defined. Some of the children come from the local area, but they also have students from as far away as the US. It is not just to help these children, but also to preserve the culture- by learning the Tibetan language and customs. Spending time there is exhilarating. There is just so much love and kindness.

Another beautiful place we went in Dharamshala was the Norbulingka Institute. This is a place where Tibetans are taught the ancient arts like woodcarving, metal work,  and painting.  They also have a great display of dolls depicting Tibetan culture.

We also visited the Golden Temple in Amritsar which was also more packed than I had ever seen it!!  I can write more and post photos about both the institute and the Golden Temple as well as the daily ceremony at the India/Pakistan border if anyone is interested.

When we reached Rishikesh, we were able to have two very interesting experiences. One was meeting an elephant in her jungle- just we, our guide, the boys, and the gentleman entrusted with her care. I cannot begin to tell you how much all of us enjoyed this meeting with Rada. She was so friendly and cooperative and we really felt as if she was communicating with us. We must have been there between 30 and 45 minutes and we enjoyed the entire visit.

We happened to be in Rishikesh at the same time as a religious festival for the Hindus- during which they travel from near and far- walking miles and miles to come to the banks of the Ganges in the city of Haridwar. There they pray and bathe in the holy waters. It is a pilgrimage festival and this year they are expecting 18 million people to visit Haridwar during the festival. In addition to hundreds of people adorned in all sorts of costumes there are huge trucks carrying tens of people and playing ear-splitting music. The roads are often closed to regular traffic and the monsoon rains did not help. We were to leave Rishikesh and drive about 5 hours to catch our plane in Delhi. We left at 6 a.m.  We drove through rain that was heavy, heavier, and impossible to see through. Often there were motorcycles that were barely visible in the heavy rain. Also, in addition to the closed roads, they are in the process of building new roads and so we traveled over hard-packed mud and gravel. In addition, it was so hot outside and so damp, that our driver was forced to use maximum air conditioning. With all of the rain and people, there were many detours and our experienced driver himself had no idea which way to go and at least once drove a length of road in the wrong direction. There was no time to stop, and as time to check in to the flight approached and we still were far from Delhi, I began to believe that we would not get to the airport in time to catch our flight.

Fortunately, our tour provider, Boby, and his amazing assistant, Nitesh, were on top of things. We had been planning to show up at the airport in good time to make our 3:40 pm flight, but it soon became clear to all of us, that wasn’t going to happen. A few minutes later, we were informed that the flight had been delayed until 5:15. We all felt a bit better, but when we finally entered Delhi, our high hopes began to fade. The monsoon had flooded all of the streets and we were in a virtual parking lot.  We must have remained in one place for close to 1/2 hour. Meanwhile, our tour provider had called the airline and explained that we had left at 6:00 am and were still in transit, stuck in a very wet traffic jam.

He then messaged me NOT to wait in line, but to proceed directly to the business class desk. They are waiting for us. India is unlike other countries in the practice of security, They are very careful- so entry to the terminal is only after presenting a ticket and a passport- and there are usually long lines waiting to get in. We arrived shortly after 4 for a 5:15 flight. I was pretty desperate. I didn’t want to miss the flight. I also was a bit stir crazy from the tension of riding in a car going though a monsoon for 10 hours. I barreled up to the front of the line, told my sad story and fortunately the guard at the door let us jump the line. He did, however, insist on seeing all of our paperwork and was very careful to identify both of the boys as well as us. Once inside we asked where the Air India counter was and were misdirected away from the actual counter. At this point I felt as if we were contestants on “The Amazing Race” because I wasn’t sure whether the person who told us where it was the second time was telling the truth or even knew and time was running out. Fortunately he did. We arrived at the desk at 4:14 for a 5:15 flight. Once again, security was tight and this time we had to show our vaccination certificates and they had to match the tickets and the passports and since my husband and I each had 2 passports (we bought the airline tickets with our Israeli passports and applied for visas with our US passports) everyone got confused.

Finished there, they assigned a young man to run with us through passport control and security and then to lead us to the departure gate. When we finally arrived at the departure area, people were sitting quietly and waiting. We were elated. We were on our way home.

And yes, we got home safely – the mothers were there to greet their sons and us.  We have a greater appreciation for the two wonderful boys who were with us and their patience and sweet manners. We have always been grateful for them, but now, especially.

Filed Under: Family life, Ramblings, Travel Tagged With: , , , ,

What it’s like for me

May 16, 2021 by

I imagine that what is going on in Israel is subject to all sorts of assumptions. Let me tell you what it is like for me.

For more than 20 years, every new apartment/home built in Israel has (by law) to have a sealed room.  This is a room that has heavily reinforced walls, ceiling, and floor and a door that when closed seals it shut when occupied in emergency situations. Some rooms are full sized rooms usually used as bedrooms. They have windows that open in and on the outside a heavy metal cover that the occupants can seal closed in times of emergency.  Once sealed, they are to protect us from bombs. missiles, rockets, and poison gas.

When an attack is imminent, we are notified by radio and/or phone app that our particular area is in danger. Depending where in Israel one lives, one may have as few as 15 seconds to reach the sealed room. In this current war, we in our city have about 90 seconds. Once inside, we must wait 10 minutes before opening the door and emerging.

Those attacking us, sending their weapons into cities to destroy, kill, and maim, are, of course, unpredictable and attacks can come at any time.

The destruction and deaths they cause are devastating, but we are strong and unafraid and try to conduct our lives normally. There are safe areas in stores and malls and hospitals and office buildings.

But here’s the part that pains me constantly: this war began when our enemies began firing at us, at the civilians. When our armed forces responded, we were told that we are wrong. We are criticized and are called “an apartheid state” – yet ask our Arab doctors, dentists, Knesset members, lawyers, pharmacists, nurses- and they will tell you that this is a society that is open to all of its citizens. If our radicalized Arab neighbors in Gaza were to make the decision to face the future with dignity and hope and to build a bright future for their children, we would embrace them and help them. It could happen.

Though never at war with us, the Emirates did not have diplomatic relations with us. But they decided to look to the future- to build a better future for themselves and finally, to build a future that includes us. When we visited in December, we found a warm welcome from people who see us as their cousins, all relatives of our father Abraham.

Israel does not want any innocents to suffer, not Jews, not Israeli Muslims, Christians, Druze, Circassians- and not the citizens of Gaza. That is why before any large action targeting the terror structures, the citizens of Gaza are warned and told to leave the premises.

Whoever says the people in Gaza are suffering- are right, but it is their own government, Hamas, that oppresses them. They cannot rebel because they know what the consequences will be for them and their families. If the UN, if the world, really cared about them, they would assist in freeing them from their oppressive government.

So while I sit in my closet (yes, my sealed room is my closet) and receive whatsapp photos of my grandchildren sitting in their sealed rooms, I wait for the day when people will understand that this is not a matter of who’s right- it’s a matter of people who want to live their lives (us) and people who want us dead (them).

Filed Under: Uncategorized

My Sisters

March 3, 2021 by

What I have to say may be termed politically incorrect, but if you are a person with an open mind, I hope you will read it before you reject it. Too often people don’t bother to read things they believe they will object to and that is how people get stuck in rigid ways of thinking and unexamined beliefs.

A very long time ago when I was young, I had long curly brown hair and green eyes and no self-confidence. OK, maybe there was some self-confidence because I never really gave up on myself. I was not a popular kid. I didn’t really have any friends. There was the girl I walked to school with, but we never were really friends. There were the girls I went to camp with, but they mostly saw me as another piece of furniture. Maybe everyone felt that way- that they were unseen and dismissed, but I clearly did not know it. I was alone.

But inside of me was the real me- not the shy girl who had no friends, but a person with an active inner life who was constantly scanning the environment and trying to find the pieces I could put together to make it mine.

I don’t know this, but I am guessing I was not unique in that way. All over the world there were girls like me. Some had dark skin. Some had skin much lighter than mine. They had blue eyes and brown eyes, round eyes and slanted eyes, silky hair and frizzy hair that was brown or blond or red or black and they spent their days scanning the environment trying to figure out their place in it.

Some were lucky and had parents who nurtured them and encouraged them. Some had parents who pushed them to achieve- perhaps too hard. Some had parents whose lives were so difficult that they had little physical or psychic energy to deal with their children. Many girls ended up raising themselves.

Some had great ambitions and worked very hard to achieve them. Some took what was available and made the best of it. Some gave up. They simply could not overcome the obstacles that were laid in front of them.

All of them are my sisters. All of them deserve respect and kindness. None of them were born to oppress others and none of them were born to be oppressed.

Denying this is to deny their very humanity and the very attributes that link us together in a world that all of us must navigate.

 

Filed Under: Family life

Glass ceilings

November 13, 2020 by

I did not fashion these terracotta warriors

I have to admit it. I never for a second thought that my possibilities were limited because I was a girl/woman. Why? I had a mother who was intelligent, decisive, active, and accomplished. I had two grandmothers who worked and were effective both in their work and in their homes. They made delicious food, kept clean homes, and were full of love for their families.

From an early age I was encouraged to study and learn and it was clear that the future was in my hands. For a while I thought about becoming a nurse, but my mother said, “You are smart enough to be a doctor” and while in high school, I imagined studying medicine. I even took Latin in anticipation for needing it for my medical career. I only gave up that aspiration when I realized that having a family of my own including a few children was more important to me than working outside the home- so how could I take up space in a medical school learning what I might not practice when there were others who would be fully committed to medicine who needed that space? For me, it was the right decision. But it was my decision. I never felt limited.

So why am I writing this? It has to do with Kamala Harris. Leaving politics and personal reactions aside- assuming she is a blank slate- I do not see her accomplishments as anything that relates to me, my children or  my grandchildren. Why should her having anatomical structures similar to mine make her accomplishments relative to me. So far, every president we have had has had a nose. Does that mean that George Washington broke the glass ceiling on noses? I know that is a silly analogy, but for the last 80 years- mostly beginning with WWII, women have been able to accomplish great things and over the last 50 years at least, they have been publicly recognized for their accomplishments.

To me, this tokenism is offensive. If I were labeled the “first Jewish 70+ woman” to achieve something… I would feel they had taken my achievement and generalized it to people who had nothing to do with me. It would mean that I have opened the door for 70+ Jewish women – but did I really? Maybe I achieved something through hard work and it is my achievement.

Maybe there are people who feel that they have broken a barrier for others and maybe that really is true, but I am not basking in Harris’s achievement. It is hers alone.

 

Filed Under: Getting older, Ramblings

It’s not my fault

September 7, 2020 by

How many times as parents have we heard the excuse “it’s not my fault.” “It happened because my brother/sister/friend told me to do it.” “I was looking up when I stepped on my sister’s hand. Her hand should not have been there.” “I was taking the glass out of the cabinet when someone interrupted me,” “I failed the test because the teacher made the questions too hard,” “I missed the bus because it usually comes late and this time it was on time,”

And, in today’s nurturing society we say, “That’s all right dear. We know it’s not your fault. It was bad luck.”

And thus we remove from people responsibility for their actions. We create in people a construct they carry with them for the rest of their lives. “I can do no wrong. Circumstances beyond my control have ordained that I will act in a certain way.” And so married people “fall in love” with a co-worker- not their fault. Love just came over and swooped upon them and there was no choice.

Today we see people literally all over the world blaming their leaders for the spread of the Covid-19 virus, Name the hated leader- it’s his or her fault everyone is getting sick. He/she didn’t listen to the experts. He/she listened to the wrong experts. He/she was only thinking of political gain. These citizens, if literate, read the research that has been done of social distancing and mask usage and see that the great majority of the research suggests that these are effective in reducing spread of the virus. Yet, instead of using that information to make a positive step toward a healthier society, some decide that it doesn’t apply to them/ it’s uncomfortable/ I can make my own decisions- no one’s going to tell me what to do.

Ah, it is so much easier to do what I want and blame others for the negative consequences. It is, in my view, antithetical to building a caring society- of being the kind of people to create a healthy environment for our children and grandchildren. Some of the  same people who love the whales and are saving the elephants, are very concerned with them and less willing to “sacrifice their personal freedom” to save human lives.

Governments, good and bad, led by angels or devils, can only do so much. Adults in the society have a responsibility to act in ways that are healthy and compassionate. If the society fails, the responsibility falls on all of us. It will be our fault.

Filed Under: Covid 19, Emotional health, Parenting

Eliezer Bar-Ad Z”L

July 22, 2020 by

Today marks shloshim, 30 days since Eli’s untimely death. It is very hard to believe that he is no longer with us.

I first met Eli shortly after I moved to Modiin in the spring of 1998. He was one of the first people I met here. With his friendly manner and contagious smile, he was immediately likable and as time passed, I got to know him better and better. He and my husband became fast friends, and whenever they were together there were deep discussions and lots of laughter. Eli had a smile that lit up the room. He was active, curious, interested in everything. He loved serving as a volunteer for the local police and would stop by our house on many shabbatot when he’d go to the station to see what was happening. He was always full of enthusiasm, and excitement.

People in Modiin in the Anglo community knew him and everyone felt his warmth and kindness and enjoyed being around him. He taught English in local schools and enjoyed his interactions with his students. He loved to teach and he loved to learn.

After his wife passed away, he came one day to our house and asked if I would give him my sister’s telephone number. Of course I did! The two of them couldn’t have been a better match. When Eli and Vicki were together there was lightness and happiness. I never saw him smile as much as he did during the times he and Vicki were together. Months later he came to our house and explained that since our parents were no longer alive, he could not ask them for her hand in marriage, but since I was the older sister, he could ask me.

Of course I said yes. It was obvious that they would be very happy together.

We went with them to make arrangements for the wedding- and what a wedding it was! It was so very happy with very special flower girls and a juggler who put on a great act and amazing music from a Dixieland band. And most important, our family embraced their Uncle Eli!!

Eli and Vicki made the most of their time together- traveling to Canada and the US, India (twice), Crete, Germany, England, and Austria. We were with them on a couple of their trips and Eli seemed to enjoy every minute of them. He was particularly enthralled by a little girl in the Tibetan Children’s Village in Dharamshala, India, who took him by the hand to show him where she slept.

On many shabbatot, Eli and Vicki would come to have lunch with us. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Vicki- as did hers when she looked back at him. They were always together- a couple, a team- and their love for one another and their happiness was always evident.

All of us will miss Eli, that is certain, but for my sister, the loss is beyond words. I pray that she will find comfort in the memories they made together and in the knowledge that the time they spent together was the happiest time of his life.

 

 

 

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Stay home! – No, I mean it STAY HOME!!!

July 12, 2020 by

All of us vividly remember when we were locked down and only essential workers could leave their homes and cities to work. We were an obedient people then. All of us longed for things to get back to normal. The economy was tanking, so the government let up- too soon, for sure, but that’s not the only reason we are where we are today. People simply are ignoring the three simple requests- wearing masks, maintaining social distance and washing hands. Teenagers are having parties in the woods, adults are sitting in cafes, socializing, and having demonstrations with thousands of people, and our numbers are growing alarmingly.

Meanwhile, no one can travel abroad to many many countries.  The airport is mostly abandoned. The outbound and inbound tourism industry is comatose. Thousands of people employed in that industry (travel agents, tour companies, tour guides, hotel personnel, restaurants, bus companies, etc. etc.) have no income because other people don’t like the rules. Many of us long to embrace our children and grandchildren, and to celebrate smachot with them.  If we all followed the rules, we could lick this in a fairly short time. If we don’t, it could be a very long time that a lot of people will suffer. We are all limited now because of others’ selfishness.

And if you think that Covid 19 is like the flu, think again. Do some research. Look at the articles about long term effects, even in those who are thought to be asymptomatic. Read about what happened to participants in Covid “parties.”

Nobody likes being restricted. Nobody thinks it’s cool to walk around in a mask, but if you are anxious to start living normally, follow the rules. Go to work, shop when you must, but avoid large gatherings. And remember, you and I and everyone you care for is safest when you are at home.

Filed Under: Covid 19, Family life, Israel, Ramblings

It’s not over

July 2, 2020 by

Friends, all of us are tired of this Covid thing. It’s been going on way too long. There are little people we need to hug. There are big people we need to hug. There are places we want to go, friends we want to see. Enough with the frightening statistics! Enough with the distancing! ENOUGH!!!!

But wishing it away isn’t working. And pretending it’s over is actually prolonging it. All of us who’d hoped that by summer things would ease up are still sitting at home. Part of the reason is that people are not being careful. Good people, people I respect, are wearing their masks on their mouth, but not their nose or on their nose but not their mouth. They are getting too close to each other.

Because this virus can’t be seen or sensed, we think that we and our family and friends are clean, uninfected- but this is an insidious, wily virus that sneaks its way into people, unrecognized until it begins to do battle with us. For some people, it seems there are no discernible symptoms, but this nasty virus can attack parts of the body so stealthily that harm is done before it is detected.

And the news media- even they are tired of this. Remember in the beginning there were heart-wrenching stories of people becoming very ill or dying from Covid-19? That’s still happening, but they are tired of reporting. If we don’t see it on the news or hear it, then it must be rare, we think.

Friends, it isn’t over. There is even reason to believe, say some, that it is getting worse. Guard your lives and those of the people you love- for yourself, for them, and for all of us. This will pass eventually- let’s at least do our part.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Pandemic Fatigue

June 15, 2020 by

Early March: We realize that this virus that started in China has reached other countries and seems to be very contagious. Visitors from affected countries are not welcome to visit us. As the awareness grows, returnees from affected countries are asked to quarantine for 2 weeks- and then, as the virus spreads, the country all but closes down. People are permitted to go out only for essential needs: food, medical care. assisting older relatives, visiting non-custodial children. We stay home. We play video games, call friends, zoom.  Some finally get around to doing things they’ve been meaning to do for months or years. Others realize that it wasn’t the lack of time that was keeping them from those chores.

Most of us are good-natured about it. We joke about home-schooling, about having to cook, about finally recognizing that the person we share our life with is fun to be with- or not so much fun. And it goes on and on.

And then governments begin to realize that it can’t go on forever without devastating consequences. Not everyone can work from home. People have lost their income. Farmers can’t harvest their crops, get their produce to market, children (and their mothers) are climbing the walls. The numbers of sick are diminishing. This has to end.

Early May: The powers that be in many countries realize that the lock-down has to end. They devise criteria and timelines in order not to put too many people at too much risk. The formerly empty stores now can have limited customers as long as they are masked. Slowly take-out only food sources become open air restaurants. Schools are open on a part-time, distancing basis.

But people are people. Children want to play together. Preteens and teenagers hug the friends they haven’t seen for 6 weeks. Little ones chase each  around the playground. Friends meet for lunch or dinner. Masks are forgotten. They are uncomfortable,  The virus time is over.

If only the virus itself knew that. If only the invisible droplets that cause such illness and death just disappeared. But as much as we wish it away, it doesn’t seem to be leaving. and now that we all (here in Israel and throughout the world) have contracted Pandemic Fatigue, we are less careful and are assisting this virus by our nonchalance. We are used to things happening fast. How many times have you started to read an article and stopped because it was too long? (Guilty as charged). How many times have we yelled, “Hurry up!” or turned the A/C down to a low temperature or pounded an elevator button because we just can’t wait?

Unfortunately, we cannot hurry this virus along. We can defeat it only by protecting ourselves and others steadily and consistently. A bit of prayer might help too.

Filed Under: Family life, Ramblings
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