Last night my husband and I met friends for dinner at the Tel Aviv marina. I must confess, I was never there before. Aside from the worrying about finding a parking space (you pay the money, you find the space), it was a delightful experience. At the water there are any number of cafes and restaurants. There was also a concert going on and the music wafted across the water. But what amazed me most was the people– laughing, smiling, enjoying life. The place was hopping with people of all ages, singles and families and older folks too. And people were happy and lively. My people. It gave me such joy to be among them. Israelis know how to work, how to innovate, and how to defend themselves. We have not forgotten how to just have fun!

And then this morning I saw this wonderful video.
These are my people.

The whole world is against us…

How true!

Let’s look at how the international law reads:

San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea, 12 June 1994

You may find the full text here

SECTION V : NEUTRAL MERCHANT VESSELS AND CIVIL AIRCRAFT

Neutral merchant vessels

67. Merchant vessels flying the flag of neutral States may not be attacked unless they:

(a) are believed on reasonable grounds to be carrying contraband or breaching a blockade, and after prior warning they intentionally and clearly refuse to stop, or intentionally and clearly resist visit, search or capture;

OK, friends, Gaza is under blockade from Israel and from Egypt. Essentials such as food and medicines are being delivered daily and pictures of Gazan life on a daily basis shows no humanitarian crisis. What is being blockaded are materials that can be used either themselves as weapons or to make weapons.

Now why would we stop those items from being imported into Gaza?

Perhaps because over several years Israeli homes, schools, and playgrounds have been bombarded by Hamas controlled Gaza with rockets and mortar fire.

So we have a blockade to keep the people who want to kill us from killing us.

And these “peace activists” (read: terror supporters) were coming to break the blockade.

The Israeli commander said that we would be happy to transfer, after clearing it, all humanitarian aid under the supervision of those who brought it. All we wanted to know is that we would not be allowing in weapons that may kill our civilian population. They refused. The terror supporters brutally beat our soldiers, threw them off of decks and off the ship, and fired weapons at them. They were armed with clubs, iron bars, and long bladed knives that are only used as weapons.

And the world says we overreacted? Really?

Read the international law once again. These people were breaching a blockade, and after prior warning they intentionally and clearly refused to stop, and intentionally and clearly resisted visit, search or capture. In that case, they may be attacked. Under international law.

So this evening, all throughout Israel, Israelis gathered at major intersections with signs and flags in support of our military and our country.

My husband and I and our granddaughter, Kinneret, joined them here in Modi’in. As the cars passed us on the road, practically every one of them beeped their horns, waved, smiled, or all three.

Yes, world, we do have a right to live, even if it’s not politically correct. But that’s another post…

Yesterday was Pesach sheni, one month after Passover when someone who had missed Passover could celebrate it. However, for the Samaritans, שומרונים it was Pesach!

The Samaritans believe in the Torah, but not in any of the other Biblical books, nor do they accept the Talmud or other rabbinic writings. Since modern Judaism is a product of rabbinic interpretation which they don’t accept, their religion differs in major ways from normative Judaism.

Yesterday a bus of Modi’in residents made its way to Mount Grizim to watch the Passover festivities nd to learn about the Samaritans.

All told, there are about 700 Samaritans in the world and all are living either in Holon, Israel, or on Mount Grizim which is located in Samaria (what some people call “the West Bank”). For the Passover observance, all Samaritans must come to Mount Grizim and participate. Busloads of curious Israelis and tourists arrived to watch the festivities.

On a fairly warm day, the mountain was cold and windy. As we walked toward the location of the ceremonies, we saw some sheep grazing. They looked so peaceful and I couldn’t help but feel sad for what was to happen to them.

Sheep on Mount Grizim

We went to the museum which was small, but well kept and we were lucky enough to have one of the Cohanim talk to us and tell us about their beliefs and observances. I found it fascinating that they take the same basic laws from the torah as we do and observe them differently. For example, on Yom Kippur, among the Samaritans, everyone fasts, even babies. The only exception is for those babies who are still nursing.

The Cohen, Yefet, with a sefer torah behind him

Yesterday, we were instructed not to bring with us anything that would be considered chametz, not kosher for Passover. We came to see the ritual slaughter of the paschal sacrifice, the lambs.

Lambs being brought to the ceremony

Passing by us on the street

In addition to the Samaritans, there were hundreds of people who had come to watch the ceremony as well as dignitaries from the Palestinian Authority with whom they also have cordial relations. There also were almost as many professional photographers as there were sheep.

People crowded around the enclosed area where only the participants, dignitaries, photographers and some very persuasive visitors were allowed to be. We occupied a grandstand, a hillside all of the areas around the fences, and areas overlooking the site including roofs of buildings. It was very difficult to see and even more difficult to photograph as the people in front of us kept swaying and blocking our views and never thought of saying “why don’t you take a couple of pictures standing in my place and then switch back with me.” It was cold and windy and pretty frustrating to be standing on my feet for about 2 hours and not seeing much.

What we did see were many men approaching the ceremony. Most were dressed in white, however it appeared that the men of higher stature wore green robes. All of the elders some robes and each had a staff that he walked with.

Approaching the ceremony

Lambs in the pen, unaware

As we stood and watched, we heard chanting. The leader would begin the chanting and then all of the men would chant. The words were not intelligible to us because they speak a different dialect. The chanting was not unpleasant, but the noise and commotion of all of the onlookers and of the non-participants made it difficult to appreciate. We saw some dignitaries, cohanim/priests, I suppose, on the podium and then there were two long lines of men. also dressed in white, many of them wearing boots, facing each other on either side of a long trench. A glimpse of two of the men showed them each holding a lamb between their legs.

At a certain point, a word was shouted and then in a couple of seconds there was cheering and shouting and people kissing each other. Although we had seen nothing, we guessed that at that point, the lambs were slaughtered. We later found out that we were right. There was such joy and elation among the participants that I found it incomprehensible.

While we were not looking the animals were skinned and gutted and later we saw a few put on huge skewers being readied to be thrown into the deep, round pits that had been burning for hours.

We were told that at that point, the people would go home and only return around midnight to claim their lamb that would be eaten with the people they were close to.

A few commments:

1. I am glad that I went. It certainly was an experience unlike any other I have had. that said, I wish they could have kept their ceremony purer– with less noise and fuss and extraneous noises and people and bustle. It didn’t have a spiritual quality that I could grasp.

2. I am still feeling very sorry for all of the lambs, and especially so when I think of the joy that slaughtering them brought to the people who did it. I never imagined that animal sacrifice could be anything but deeply solemn and deeply moving.

3. I am pretty sure that I heard our neighbor’s cat praying this morning saying “…שלא עשני כבס”

(If you don’t know Hebrew, it probably isn’t worth explaining it…)

I don’t like putting up political posts. Sometimes they threaten friendships, and I really don’t want to lose any friends. But what’s been happening lately is so troubling that I can’t remain let it pass. Here’s one article about it.

I have been tagged for a meme by Rachel and how could I resist?

My travels

Rules: Fill in the following questions & tag 5 friends (try friends who travel a lot).

• My best trip ever…
  My first trip to China. Astounding. A whole new world. All I could think was “I can’t believe I’ll never come back here.”
• My worst trip ever…
  Undoubtedly the trip to the mikvah erev Hanuka one year that we lived at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. It was a 3.5 hour drive in each direction and on the way there my radiator started steaming and then the gas station attendant in Louisville couldn’t get th
• Most important thing I ever lost on a trip…
  An earring on the train to Sapa
• Most important thing I ever forgot to take on a trip…
  Can’t think of anything
• Thing I miss most when I’m away…
  My family
• Thing I miss least when I’m away…
  Chores around the house
• Favorite travel partner…
  My husband
• Place I hope to travel to someday…
  Maybe Japan or Singapore? Maybe Kiev and Odessa? I would go pretty much anywhere, but probably not to Dubai.

fill in this meme

I tag: Kelli, Bethami, & Vicki

and leave you with some pictures from my most recent trip (to the Galilee)

This week was a big birthday week in the family with two grandchildren and a daughter-in-law celebrating birthdays. One grandchild, Ayala, celebrated on the Hebrew date– about 2 weeks ago, but our one-year -old Ephraim celebrated this week. He seemed to enjoy his cupcake (as did his sister)!

Ephraim and his cake

Kinneret enjoying cake

Want some?

We also drove up to Tiberias for the marathon where our son, Ben ran for the third year in a row. It was great spending time with him and with three of his children.

Ben & Avital

Walking over to the race starting point (my only picture of Dina-- she's all the way to the right)

We walked Ben over to the starting arch and waited until the race began. Then we went walking to the side of the Kinneret.

In addition to the marathon, there was a rowing competition with all Israeli teams except for one from Germany who were none the sadder for having missed their heavy snow at home.

Elihu next to the rowing shell

The Tel Aviv team honored Asaf Ramon.

We watched that race begin too and took the children swimming. And then it was time to wait for Ben to return. We saw him cross the finish line and hold his hands up in triumph!

Ben, crossing the finish line!

It was a hot day and running was hard, but he finished the race and in a record time for him!

It was a good week and we have an exciting week coming up next week too. Stay tuned for news.

Actually, this posting has very little to do with Tiberias. We are traveling up there this afternoon with our son and three of his children. This is the third year in a row that he will be running the marathon there and the third year in a row that we are accompanying him. The marathon is tomorrow morning.

There’s a real excitement about the whole event with athletes from all over Israel and all over the world. Each year there is a good representation of African runners, many of whom come in with amazing times.

Of course, the change of pace is fun and spending quality time with three of the grandchildren is always a treat.

Last year we left under a cloud of worry. Our brand new grandson had just been identified as having a health problem and we were uncertain as to what would happen. Now, a day after his first birthday, I am happy to report that he is a healthy, cuddly, adorable child whose development has been completely normal.

So today we leave with happy anticipation!

(And we may have some other exciting events in our future… more about that when things are definite.)

No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. No, I have not been roaming around the world (as much as I would have liked to.) I simply have been preoccupied by preparations for our next trip– the tour we are leading to Vietnam and Cambodia. Since we have people coming from 4 different countries with different connecting flights and since we can’t always get the internal flights at the times we would prefer, we’ve had to do a lot of planning trouble-shooting, rescheduling and renegotiation with the local providers. Everything has been settled to my satisfaction– and I am a tough one to satisfy– but it has taken a lot of energy to say nothing of stress.

Now, add to that a cough I developed about 4 weeks ago that until about two days ago was getting worse and worse and you have the recipe for no blog posts.

But I have not been idle in my thoughts. I share with my friend Alissa the thought that we have been hearing entirely too much about the Fort Hood murderer and not nearly enough about the innocent people whose lives he took. I offer my deepest condolences to the families of those who were murdered and my prayers for full recovery for those who were injured. As I has suspected, these people were the victims of political correctness. All of the signs of a radical Islamist were there and no one was willing to pay attention enough to prevent this massacre.

My husband and I raised our children on Army posts in the US and in Germany. The posts we lived on were beautiful. The grass was trimmed, he trees were stately, and it was the finest America had to offer. We always felt safe. Nothing bad happened on Army posts. Our children could play outside and no one would bully them or hurt them. Even the people driving cars through the housing areas obeyed the speed laws that limited them to 15 MPH. It was idyllic America. If the safest place in the world is no longer safe, it is a very dark and sad time.

I think we need to stop thinking of all philosophies and belief systems as being morally equivalent. How many times have I heard people say that all religions are good. I am sorry. That is simply not so. A religion that encourages people to kill those who believe differently is NOT good. It is NOT acceptable that radical Muslims call for Jihad when that means killing people. It is NOT OK that their murderers are celebrated as heroes– having streets and sports fields named after them. The world needs to wake up and recognize this. We should not be afraid to say that radical Islam is destructive and must be stopped. That is a very different thing from condemning all Muslims. If we cannot make this moral distinction, our future is in jeopardy.

I was surprised to find this article in the New York Times , one of the champions of political correctness, this morning.

And in our neighborhood, we have Iran whose leader shares the murderous intentions of the Jihadists and he is developing nuclear capability. It is time to stop waiting to see what he will do. He has made his intentions perfectly clear and I am in his gun sight.

It seems a bit absurd to write about how Yom Kippur was for me this year, yet I cannot help but write.  As a child, I only remember this about Yom Kippur:  My parents would buy tickets for services.  In those years, the synagogue was still small and there was not enough room inside for everyone who wanted high holiday tickets, so they would erect a huge tent that seated maybe 200 people, maybe more, and my parents would attend good chunks of the service leaving us outside to our own devices.  I didn’t want to enter because I didn’t understand anything anyway and inside the tent, it was invariably boiling hot.

Late in the afternoon, my parents and I would ride about a half hour to my grandparents’ synagogue and arrive just in time for Neila, the last service of the day.  My mother would walk with us up the stairs of the synagogue into the women’s section.  The women’s section was populated with women of my grandmother’s age, all elderly (in their 50’s!) immigrant women who spoke with heavy Eastern European accents.  My grandmother was always really happy to see us when we showed up.  My cousins and their mothers too would arrive and always there was discussion as to which of the huge flower arrangements my mother and her siblings had bought for the synagogue in honor of their mother.

After the service, we would return to my grandparents’ home with the flowers.  They always consisted of  a large percentage of chrysanthemums and the smell of chrysanthemums usually reminds me of my grandmother.

I am now older than my grandmother ever was.

I am lucky enough to be living in Israel where on Yom Kippur, the entire country stops.  There are no Israeli television channels broadcasting and no radio.  Aside from one police car, I saw no cars on the roads.  In the evening, the park was filled with adults and children.  It is amazing!

This year, at services in our bursting-at-the-seams synagogue, I was privileged to have 16 of my grandchildren.  I pretty much was bursting with happiness seeing all of their beautiful faces.  The older ones, serious about their prayers, remained inside for large parts of the services and some, notably, for all of them.  The younger children, happily wandered in and out.  The youngest were held in their mothers’ or fathers’ or siblings’ arms.  The language we prayed in was the language they live.  The synagogue held familiar people.  The melodies were ones the older children had sung many times before.

And the service…  I don’t think it was my imagination.  Our congregation has been going  for about 13 years.  I think it has come of age.  The singing of large parts of the service was no less than inspiring.  Just as we repented in group fashion as one people, we sang in one voice and if the heavens were open, I can’t imagine more sincere petitions or more beautiful sounds of praise entering the holy gates.

The family, unretouched, missing three children

May all of you have a healthy, happy, prosperous New Year!

Every year at Rosh Hashana, we exchange the wishes for a happy, healthy, prosperous new year. I used to put “peaceful” into that mix, but this year, I just can’t do it. I know that it is a lie. Peace is not just around the corner.

You see, the problem we have here in Israel is not that we don’t want peace. It’s not that we won’t give up the building of homes in communities in Judea and Samaria. What it is is an ideology fed to Arab children from the day they are born that has to do with eradicating the Jews from all of Israel. I believe that peace cannot come from conferences, from concessions, from cajoling, or from horse-trading. Peace will come when a responsible Arab leadership cares more about the life of their people than about the destruction of mine.

All attempts we have made have only emboldened the radical elements. If they believe that we are tired, sick to death of the terror and the pain, then they will only give us more so that we give up, capitulate, leave.

Economic success, educational success, building a society that serves the needs of its citizens is what will bring about a change in the mind set. It is what will make this senseless hatred recede as parents educate their children to achieve and to value knowledge and to love learning instead of longing for “martyrdom.”

So my prayer, it isn’t for peace. It is for the beginning of a change in the hearts and minds of the people who want to destroy me and my people. I pray that G-d will open their hearts to the knowledge that their children are precious gifts as are all of G-d’s children. I pray that by next year, the Arab parents will begin to value their children and their children’s future. I pray that responsible Arab leadership will focus on what they can do to help their people live happy meaningful lives.