Откуда повеяло холодом?

Севивон сов-сов-сов. Индустрия развлечений гребёт деньги, вертится колесо сансары. По всей стране дети ходят в кино, требуют и получают подарки, едят пончики.

Но не все. Трое подростков, имена которых запрещены к публикации, сидят в тюрьме по обвинению в ужасном, невероятном преступлении, оправдания которому нет и быть не может. Конечно, виновных надо найти и примерно наказать. Но лишь один факт - в этой деревне поджоги - обычное дело, результат кровной мести. За последние полгода сгорело 8 домов….

Взрослые дяди бьют подростков, как могут, до потери сознания, до помешательства, до пожизненной инвалидности, физической и психической, до попыток самоубийства. Не предоставляя им законного права на встречу с адвокатом. Три недели жутких издевательств… и подростки не признались. По словам одного из них, «я бы признался в чём угодно, но не знаю, чего от меня хотят. Убейте меня, я больше не могу».

Где прекраснодушные защитники прав человека? Жалкий писк, изданный одной из организаций, не идёт ни в какое сравнение с тем рёвом, который звучит, когда они защиают наших врагов. Да-да, какое грязное слово. Враги. Политически корректные наименования не изменяют сущности зверей в человеческом обличье, которые хотят уничтожить всех нас. 

Скажите, вам ничего не напоминает?

Мне сразу вспомнилась совсем другая страна, где новости обсуждались шепотом, не называя вещи своими именами… «вы слышали… наши разбили наших» - анекдот про 67 год.  Где мы все жили, стараясь не очень высовываться, молчать, смотреть вниз и думать тихонько о своём. Потому что где-то, на другом конце города, были (и есть!) подвалы, где людям отбивали почки и другие маловажные, по мнению «органов», органы. Уж простите за тавтологию. За слово, за шутку, или просто потому, что этого человека в чём-то заподозрили. Ведь признание- царица доказательств. Лишь потом оказалось, что бывает дым без огня, и признание - без вины. Позволю себе напомнить всем, что ехали мы не за колбасой, а от беззакония, страха, безнадёжности, в правовое общество. Где полиция - на стороне граждан, а спецслужбами -гордятся.

Процитирую шутку, опубликованную сайтом новостей «Муката». Устроили однажды соревнование спецслужб Америки, Франции и Израиля - кто скорее найдёт в лесу слона. Американцы разбомбили лес, и на пожарище обнаружился труп слона. Через неделю по наводке справились французы. Израильтяне зашли в лес, и через три часа вышли оттуда с… кошкой. «Она призналась в том, что она - слон».

Отчаявшиеся семьи этих подростков устраивают демонстрацию, на которую приходят… 750 человек. И это всё? Мы боимся? Или неужели наш народ настолько поглощён каждодневным выживанием, что действительно не видит, что происходит? Ожирение мозгов или совести?

Все давно привыкли к тому, что закон, защищающий всех нас, хотя бы теоретически, в поселениях не действует, и на поселенцев не распространяется. Вместо этого приказы отдаёт военное командование. Все мы равны, некоторые совсем, окончательно равнее всех, но некоторые вообще оказываются вне континиума «равности».

Когда ракеты ежедневно падали на Сдерот, вся остальная страна спокойненько себе жила, и в ус не дула. Но когда ракеты посыпались на столицу и на «государство Тель Авив», правительство вдруг очнулось и послало пехоту на устаревших бронетранспортёрах в логово дракона. Когда прокуратура открыто, не стесняясь, шила дело Задорову, дело в котором 2 и два равно даже не 5, а вообще 150, где было наше хвалёное гражданское общество?

Демократическое общество можно превратить в тоталитарное почти мгновенно, волшебным мановением наручников, набором лозунгов и давлением СМИ, как описано в книге «Волна» о социальном эксперименте в одной школе в Калифорнии.

Где волна тошноты от очередной волны обвинений в домогательствах? Объясните мне, пожалуйста, нами действительно правят озабоченные самцы, или СМИ пляшут на крови, или нас таким образом отвлекают от того, что происходит с нашей страной на самом деле?

Теперь, когда мы так же спокойненько воспринимаем новости о пытках несовершеннолетних, о нарушении их прав, мы просто ещё не понимаем, что за нами тоже придут. Не сегодня, не завтра - по придут обязательно.

Или мы уже боимся? Тётя одного из мальчиков методически вывешивала во всех группах Фейсбука статью о происходящем, и точно так же, методически, эту статью модераторы убирали. Связываться уже никто не хочет.

Я 20 лет живу в Израиле. В мою первую неделю здесь мне пришлось проехать мимо оторванной половины 18 автобуса на улице Яффо в Иерусалиме. Мы сидели в «Сбарро» за день до того, как кафе взорвали. Мы ездили в автобусах, где напряжение можно было резать ножом. Но я ощущаю страх впервые. Боюсь того, что наши права и законность - всего лишь фасад. Права, прописанные в Основных законах, доступны не всем, и не распространяются на всех в равной степени.  В угоду Западу, требующему от нашего правительства раскрытия «правого подполья», мы назначаем виновных, пытаем своих. Из тех, кто не равен. Тех, на кого не распространяется закон.  Я боюсь того, что грядёт время, когда мои дети побоятся открыть рот и выразить своё мнение. Боюсь холода, повеявшего из подвалов «Шабака» на нас всех. Боюсь того, что завтра «назначат виновными» кого-то из знакомых. Того, что кошке придётся опять быть слоном, и отвечать за слона.

Полтора года назад вся страна рыдала и молилась за трёх похищенных подростков. Скажите, а за этих вам не хочется помолится?

The declaration of light

Looking at the endless rows of candles in my news feed. Outside. Candles in my own house.
So much light.
And I'm thinking that Chanuka is a celebration designed for the Exile. A holiday in memory of heroism, when our distant ancestors won on the battle field and earned the right to believe and practice as they they saw right. And all the later attempts to shift the victory into the world of spirit. It took 5 Roman legions to crush tiny Judea, same amount as Julius Caesar drafted for Gallic wars. But Jews have vowed to abstain from assuming the hands of Esav role ever again. Chanuka became a peaceful memory of a miracle of oil, with the battle background shoved aside.
But no.
Think about the dark, smelly and dangerous world of the Middle Ages. The enormous amount of daring required to declare out loud, I belong to the ancient persecuted religion. Yes, I'm one of those who crucified your god. Who rejected your prophet. Who poisoned the wells/drank blood.... or whatever they chose to believe about us. To stand unarmed, holding no rights, with only the faith at their side, opposing the vast numbers of locals.  Perhaps, at least as much as going out to battle on foot against heavily armored battle elephants. To remember our miracles out loud, to declare that God hadn't forsaken us just yet, to parade those candles in front of the whole world - demanded an unusual amount of bravery. Perhaps that's what our Sages intended, perhaps not...
Where do we hold today? Is it military heroism or the bookish memory of miracles of the olden days?  What do we declare today? What is bravery in our day and age?
 What do you say?

Don't be a xenos to me

Our society is so divided that it seems as if we are about to wander apart into another 12 tribes who do not even remember being related to each other. How is it reflected in the Israeli schools? Could the teachers, who also belong to a dozen different groups, prevent xenophobia amongst the students?

From my subjective experience – if the teacher can communicate in tolerable Hebrew, even if the accent makes your ears wilt – the students will listen and even help him get the point across when he is at loss for words. But in case of a conflict, the teacher’s community, race and country of origin will be brought in, with all the stereotypes possible.

I’ve once seen a Russian teacher confuse the grammar structure, and she ended up saying exactly the opposite of what was intended. The class simply exploded with laughter and comments about “those Russians”, which she ignored, and eventually they let it go as well.

Another time I watched an 11^th grader (girl) attack a Russian teacher with her firsts, while yelling out racist slurs. There was nothing much we could do besides offering the distraught teacher some tea. The student had been suspended, but the damage was done.

Another example – it’s a known fact that Russian teachers rarely get to teach English for the Bagrut. Even though I barely contained giggles at the sight of the mistakes the Israeli teachers leave on the board. A folder entitled “gremmar” in the teachers’ room… But one of my bosses, looking me straight in the eyes, said: “Why are you giving them grammar? Anyway they won’t know it. They don’t need it to pass the Bagrut. Only you Russians care for grammar, native speakers manage without it, somehow”. You do not say…

If you intend to teach in a regular school, you better grow some very thick skin. Every other word that comes out of their mouths is a swear, and the way to address a friend is “you, son of a *****”. They don’t even get offended, it’s a figure of speech.

One of the main causes of xenophobia – in my opinion – is that people usually have no clue about the life of people in other communities. In 6^th grade all students write a paper on their community and background. How wonderful… maybe we should make them research other communities?

Once, when I was teaching a group of Ethiopians, I overheard them discussing the Charedim, who live on the other side of the street. I said:

-have you spoken to them?

- no, - said the boy – we threw stones, and they spat at us. They think we are all murderers, haha.

-have you ever been to their houses? Even once?

-no, why would we ever?

- have they visited you?

-Are you kidding, teacher? We don’t visit them, they don’t visit us.

-but why do you hate them so?

- because they are black, - answered the kid, whose only white part is his sparkiling teeth.

When I got my words back, I told him:

-          If I give you guys bad grades, you call me a racist. And what are you, exactly?

That got him thinking…. But not for long.

Any class I had ever taught, assumed I was American. Any explanations about me being from the Ukraine were rejected outright. I don’t fit their stereotypical image of a Russian. The only thing they knew about Americans is that they eat gefilte fish. Yeah, that slimy stuff in a jar – that’s Americans. No questions about the Wild West, New York or anything else. Just the undead gefilte.

My daughter, studying in an amazing school in Jerusalem, got teased for being American (which she isn’t), and not for being Russian, (which nobody knew, till she interfered in a conversation of some lost nuns ranting about Jews at some graveyard they visited with her class,  in Russian, but that’s another story altogether) and saw a certain amount of irony in that.

Once I found myself on the stairs of the Begin school here in Bet Shemesh, waiting for my son who was taking an exam inside. There were about 40 parents waiting, and they were distinctly divided into 3 groups – Israelis, Anglos, Russians. That got me thinking – where do I belong? Maybe all 3? And I decided to listen in in all of them.

The Israelis were talking about the latest scandal with the police. An obese man in a blue uniform was trying to persuade a woman in white trousers a la the 20s that Israeli police is not just a vast libido, but also… eventually they started talking about schools, teachers salaries, homework…

I wandered over to the Anglos. They were discussing hot lunches, trips, and how to get the kids to read in their mother tongue. The Russians were – you won’t believe it! – also talking about schools. But why can’t they discuss it with each other?

We all have so much in common. We all strive to teach our kids how to live in the society, we survive heatwaves and terror attacks, army and elections. But always alongside each other and never actually together.

 Dear Anglos, have you ever been to a Russian's house? (Not mine, a real Russian). What is our biggest holiday of the year? Or maybe you've been to an Ethiopian house? What's their bread called? Have you invited them over? What do they eat in the Yemeni community for supper? What's Mimuna all about? What do the Indian Jews call themselves? How do 'regular Israelis' address a random guy on the street? Which Israeli writer is known for his most poetic Hebrew? In which Israeli group of society do Americans constitute 15%? (research came out last week). Is falafel really Israeli or it comes from elsewhere? Why do Hungarian Jews shave their heads? Who are the Neturei Karta and why do they call themselves that? Which chassidut wraps their peot around the ears and which ones fold them under the kippa? What's a gartel? What language do the French Jews often speak to their grandparents? 

How convenient – Russians chew their salami,  Anglos enjoy their gefilte fish, Israelis – their matbuha, and we continue to be xenoses (strangers) to each other. Maybe let’s at least say hello? 

A bit of geometry from a maths idiot

I always kind of envied people for whom life is simple. When you ask them, what's your opinion on the conflict between religion and life? And they answer you, what conflict?

Of course, it's all so simple. If we all quickly do teshuva, kill all the enemies out, send away all the gentiles back to where they came from, delete all the sinners, and cover up all the women completely,  God will bring the redemption immediately. Like a computer game - one, two, three, pass the levels, and you win. Are you for real? Are you in the first grade? Or do you think God is in first grade?
I think each person is born very simple. Like a triangle. The world is very black and white, there is good and evil, and we choose to be on the side of what we consider good. You do good and you get good.
And then it's all shattered and the world becomes - say, a tetrahedron.    
When you see that some people might not be perfect, but they are on the side you call good. They might not wear a kippa. but they're still Jewish. A shock. And also, not all Jews "look Jewish", as you understand it. Some of them had no idea Jews could be white. Some of them are allowed to eat locusts and marry two women. Could you imagine? It's a reality-crumbling realization. Just like finding out that not all those who suffer are punished by God for terrible sins - usually we (and they) have no idea why they suffer. It has nothing to do with their deeds. And we shall never know why. And then we can choose how we believe and how we settle the conflict...
And then you graduate to be a cube. 
Another dimension: what about the people who are not on your side of things, not what you choose to call good, but they believe themselves to be right? Some believe in the right of women to wear tefillin, others believe in their right to remain childless, and yet others think it's not Jerusalem but Al-Quds. And could you imagine, to them it's the absolute truth. Wow. Could you come out of your comfy little world and try to enter their heads just for a second? Because calling them "wrong" will not help you grow, no, not in the least.
How about becoming an octahedron? If you are a thinking person and wish to dive deep.



Some people live in an entirely different reality from yours. Fishermen in Burma and beer brewers in Ireland. Do you think they know God? The world is full of nations, and they have no idea about you and your chosen-ness. And yet their life rolls on for thousands of generations. I think it's both sobering and humbling for a Jew to know about them. We are so not running the world. We are so not the only ones here. We are very little indeed and the only reason we are still here is because we have a job to do. But it's not about just resisting temptation - that's Catholicism. Simplifying the task the way Christianity did. God is both in complexity and in simplicity- the living cell is both simple and infinitely complex. Just like our souls. Just like science. Like every sunrise and sunset we are lucky enough to see here. Just like our job in this world - both so simple and so complex.

And there are more dimensions, more shapes, more depth. Here is a dodecahedron.

I don't know where the fifth dimension is. .Maybe it's in seeing everything you see, and yet keeping your faith. Faith bound to knowledge and understanding, faith full of hope and curiosity.  But the world is infinitely complex, and by deeming it simple, we insult God. By pretending the conflicts do not exist, we cheat ourselves out of possible depth of character.
No, I don't really envy the people who are still a triangle by age 40 something.

How do I patent blintzes therapy?

There is animal therapy, horse-riding therapy, gardening therapy, art therapy, and today I saw an ad for sailing boats therapy. Oh, now I know what we did in camp in Kiev (Mahane Shuva, for those who remember). We did boat therapy.

This is not to undermine the vast body of knowledge and extensive research that went into those disciplines. Or the people who invest time and considerable amounts of money to study and qualify as whatever-it-is-this –time therapists. But rather to question the society I watch in my neighbourhood yet again.  Forgive me for exaggerating a bit, but here goes:

A baby is born. Mommy needs to go back to work… after 3 months he’s off to the mishpachton. Where the lady has him and 10 more babies aged 3 months to a year. She turns the prams face to the wall, props a towel under the chin, and places the bottle on it. Dear baby, get used to not crying, because there is no point anyway. Even if your little butt is smoking in that dirty diaper.  He will spend his early childhood without essential interaction babies need to form a secure attachment to a primary caregiver, a functioning language, ability to understand emotion, to empathize and intellectualize, to trust and expect love and safety.

Time passes and the kid grows. He is now 4. He’s about to have braces fitted for the teeth destroyed by those bottles, he can’t pronounce half the consonants because he’s lacking facial muscle, which simply never developed. His muscle tone is low. He learned to walk at 2, to say his first words at 3. His vocabulary is barely existent. Not a month passes without a bout of illness, with antibiotics, steroids, hospitalization. Every illness throws him back in his development. He will grow into an extremely limited adult, who will either fail to provide for his family, or work in menial jobs all his life, barely scraping by. The cycle of poverty perpetuated…

Shall I carry on?

And this is where therapies come in – one to help him walk steadily, one to address his emotional issues, one to help him speak in a way that people will understand… somehow the parents must find the time and the resources, even though usually have none. The system has got the conveyor belt rolling with those children. The stronger ones manage, the weaker ones roll from one knowing professional to another.

I’m an old cynic. I am of the opinion that if certain evils are allowed to exist, means someone is benefiting from them.

So, I would like to make a suggestion. Or rather, to patent a therapy. It’s not an entirely new kind, we had it growing up.

When I was a kid, I had a cream-and- blintzes therapy with my grandma, reading therapy with my mom… in other words – they gave me their time, presence, attention, what kids tend to interpret as love. I had art without therapy at the local kids’ club, boating at camp, swimming at the pool, dancing at the Jewish centre. We learned to read, sew, hammer nails and make up stories. We walked barefoot on the sand and rolled down the hill on fresh green grass.  It was called having a childhood. It wasn’t supported by volumes of research, but it seemed to work. Why doesn’t it work now? Have Jewish grandmothers run out of blintzes? Why can’t family give those kids the love and childhood fun they need, and instead they get it in limited doses, as a medication, through their health fund? From trained professionals, who are total strangers to them.  I don’t have an answer to that question… but seeing the empty eyes of those children hurts my heart anew every time. 

Do you think I'll be  a millionaire if I patent blitzes and cream therapy? 

The taste of Galut

It's the saddest night of the year, and Jews all over the world are sitting on the floor and crying for what we have lost as a nation almost 2000 years ago.
I know I'm supposed to feel sad... and I often do. But I don't really know how to feel sad on command, just as I don't know how to be happy on command in Adar, or love on command - I mean loving God. Or fearing Him, for that matter.
So, to get myself in the mood, I'm thinking of Galut. Not the endless dark night I know from books, but what Galut meant for me.
Galut is when somebody greets you with a "Jesus has arisen!" - and you have to answer, as their ritual demands, "indeed arisen", or they'll be offended, and that's really bad. We can't anger THEM.
The same THEM as march on your streets in brown shirts with shaved heads, even though it was THEIR grandfathers who have defeated the monster and saved the world some 70 years ago. THEY no longer remember, or agree - what does it matter anyway. We step into a shadow to let THEM pass. Before THEY can estimate the length of our noses and figure us out.
Galut means living in fear.
I did not know the word "galut" when kids with blond hair and blue eyes threw stones at me, or kicked me in the stomach, "to see a Zhid begging for air", or openly sneered when I had to name my nationality out loud evey 1st of September. Somehow, "Russian", or "Ukrainian", or even "Tatar" isn't funny. But a "Jew"?! That's hysterical. Because the word "Jew" is a dirty word. Look at this stupid girl cursing herself out loud, so funny.
For me the taste of Galut isn't the smell of the vast river in my beloved Kiev, or the taste of the first snow in October. The taste of Galut is when THEY threw rotten cloths we used to wipe down tables at the school canteen into my face.
That is the taste of fear. Fear of being recognized as one of the cursed ones. Of the authorities (police) laughing when you ask for help. Fear of being seen standing over the huge ravine called Babyi Yar and looking not at the mud down below - but up at the 30 meters tall poplars, growing so well on Jewish blood. And remembering the members of my family whose bones are in there. Imagining the fear they must've felt in the last minutes of their lives. Imagining being one of them...
Galut means stepping aside, hiding, hoping not to be seen, recognized, sniffed out.
I did not know I was a Jew till age 7- my parents didn't bother telling me. They thought it was self-evident. It was the kids who told me. No amount of mimicry could ever help us - THEY always knew. Whether it was in a line waiting to buy bread, and you heard "Jews fought in Tashkent", or at the department store "Jews always get the best stuff", there were always eyes watching, making sure Jews knew thier place. And if not, a hissing sound of "What a pity that Hitler didn't finish his job with you people" flew after you, sticking like a spit onto your back, reminding you who you were and where you were. When in Galut, you don't forget it for a second. It flows in your blood, and comes in and out with every breath you take.
I still don't know if I was stupid or brave for reading Tehillim on the underground, with the Jewish letters screaming out from the page :" we are still here". Am Yisrael chai.
Or singing Jewish songs on the dark streets of Kiev, so dark, that you can't tell if it's a human or a dog approaching you, for it's all shadows. (remember, girls?)
It was in those years that some of THEM would say, you're so lucky, you've got your own country to go to. Really? Nu, and isn't Ukraine YOUR own country? I guess they realized that by now.
I am so happy tonight. Quiet gratitude that no words could express. Because my children will never taste that sour, rotten fear. They will never feel cursed for just being who we are.  They will never fear for their lives just because the policeman thinks the blood in his veins is a different colour.We are Home...
May the beginnig of our redemption only grow and gain power. May we, indeed, wake up to Mashiach.
P.S. my mother lived in Kiev for 65 years, and never experienced ay anti-semitism. I still don't know if that's naive or lucky... but the majority of Ukrainains are very nice poeple indeed, figting for thier independence yet again, and I respect them whole-heartedly.

A ticket into adult life

If you had a magic wand in your hands just for one second, and could fulfill any wish in the world, what would you wish for? I know exactly what I'd ask.
I'd want all people to magically acquire the ability to judge others favourably. So when you're asked an innocent question, you won't assume you're being attacked. So when someone cuts you up in line, or on the road, or acts selfishly, you'd be able to see the child in them. To see their pain, worry, or at the very least imagine them. To see that they're doing all they can with their lives, their behavior, their connection with God and other humans. So that every person could see beyond themselves, even if it's only as far as the person sitting next to them on the bus.

Can everybody, please, lower the volume and thin their skin just a little bit?  And just live and let live? I call that being an adult.

This morning I watched a secular bus driver get into a heated argument with a Chassid in the front seat over absolutely nothing, total trivialities, and I could almost see the bubbles of their thoughts:

-I had fought for you in Lebanon! What an ungrateful, selfish brat! Son of a %^&*)_!!!!
and the other one:
- I learn Torah day and night, and keep myself holy, to save you from Hashem's decree! What an ungrateful selfish brat! Unholy chiloni, sheiketz!

And all I could see were two little boys shoving each other, saying , my brother is bigger than yours! or something else equally powerful. Can't they SEE that the other one also has a point?! That the other one isn't a parasite, or a shekietz, but just  a human?

Treating others with respect, just because they're human is perhaps the only subject we really need to teach, to make this world perfect.
Somebody wants to marry a person of the same gender? Sure. You know why? Because it's not hurting me in any way whatsoever. Or anyone else, for that matter. They are adults, and I'm not God's representative. And if someone sees themselves as one, here is a Russian joke for them.

"A man, sitting on a bed in a psychiatric ward, keeps on screaming out," I'm Jesus! God sent me to save you"! A voice from another room answers, "Crap! I didn't send anyone!"

So, if you think God has sent you, please check if you could be admitted. The only person whose behavior you can control is - that's right! - you. And absolutely nobody else. Not your spouse, your grown up kids, your neighbors or anyone else. Or the gay community, the workers Union, or the boy scouts. Their issues are between them and God, and nothing to do with you. Let them be. Become an adult, own your life and no one else's.
When I walk on the street, it looks as if every person is encapsulated in their own glass cube. When they try to communicate, half the time they can't get the message across, because it gets lost or distorted on the way. The walls between people are just too high.

Can we please teach communication skills in schools? So my students stop throwing chairs at each other for lack of words and ability to get the message across? If not in schools, then a chug, a course, anything. In college, in the matnas. Don't give them a ticket into adult life without it.  Gosh, how we need it. I think it could even lower crime rates, because if people were trained to talk instead of pulling out the knife on the spot, lives would be spared. How can we possibly talk to Arabs when we can't even talk to each other?!

Fishing for little things

Our Sages have defined suffering as reaching into your pocket,  thinking you have 10 coins, and pulling out only 5. As in, little scratches in life are no less real than the big things. A cut on your finger isn't a severed arm, but it still hurts. It's valid, it's real.
Let's do an exercise of "on the contrary". I heard Jews are really good at that.
Happiness is in the little things. If you don't train yourself to see them, you might miss the "big fish" when it comes along.
Happiness is having coffee from your favourite mug. Bitter chocolate and sweet memories.
Biting into a fresh crust of bread after a long walk.
Having food at all is a very happy thing, too.
A hot shower. Music that speeds up your heart and makes you run faster.
Finding some shade on a hot sweltering day. 
Happiness is curling up with a good book, with a night light, in a warm clean bed.
It's when you have someone to call when you're hurting.
Walking on the street with someone you love, and noticing how their step matches yours, and imagining life path ahead of you, full of big and little things to celebrate and share.
Happiness is when you wake up and nothing is hurting.
Happiness is when your little one wakes you up claiming there is a crocodile in her bed, and you start laughing so hard that she ends up laughing, too.
Stretching out on the grass, with the infinite sky above your head, and knowing that you are free.
Free to travel, study, grow, come and go as you wish. Talk and say what you think out loud - it's a free country.
It's lighting candles and thanking Him that you can thank Him. Address Him.  For the connection. For life. For the fabric woven from mitzvot and community, the smell of chala on the stairs and rogalach at the kiddush. Soap in the spring and dusty bamboo in autumn. The taste of Home.
Happiness is having a house to clean, and having people who will dirty it for you again and again. Sitting down on a Lego piece - ouch- and thinking of the little hands who left it there. And having that little hand in yours, crossing the street.
It's in knowing that the fighter jet flying over your head is piloted by an Israeli. A good Jewish boy, maybe a former student. Don't be afraid, kiddo, it's OUR army that's guarding us this time.
Happiness is looking in the mirror and realizing you've got quite a few more years left - hopefully.
It's in having hope. That things will work out, or get better, or that help will come form somewhere.
Happiness is being able to concentrate at work, and having a boss who appreciates you.
 And finally - for me - happiness is in being able to put it all into words, so it doesn't explode my heart from the inside. 

A day in Altz-what's his name's land

Tick-tock, Back and forth
Count your steps.
Waltz is three, clock is two.
Tick-tock,
turn down the shampoo.
The diapers and cars.
or maybe not.
Days float by
in hazy shreds.
Maybe it's the window.
Wipe it.
With shampoo. 
A film is on.
Without a beginning
An egg, some milk
a bit of bread
When was that?
In that place...
that big, big place...
Skoda is a crappy make. 
Ten coins ago.
Where are all the damned spoons?
Where is he?
Who? - Him.
Who's him?
I don't know.
Call him, please.
What is this thing?
It's all your fault.
Books are funny these days.
And the portions - too small.
I'm always hungry.
Tick -tock.
Who took my bed away?
or maybe not...
We had fattened geese.
And soft beds.
And real milk..
I'd like some tea, please. 
Daddy was so tall
Why is it so dark?
When is the day coming?
You're an idiot to vote for this government. 
This salad tastes funny.
Not oil? Soap?
Why are you bringing me tea?  I hate tea.
Take me home, now.
A shaking wrinkled hand reaches out - 

Jerusalem

Jerusalem.
She is an oxymoron, a city of peace that has not known any since time began.
So noisy, yet the silvery bells of silence ring behind the curtains. Stale embroidered brocade of the Arab Shuk and the glitter rain of Succot. Jerusalem of blood, and shakshuka. Ice cream and drums.  Sirens and the Shabbat trumpet. Jerusalem of the theaters and museums, red strings and tzedaka boxes, cholent and the most exquisite windows and doorways. Synthetic modesty and brazen nakedness, tefillin boys and bescarved office she-wolves muttering Psalms on the bus.
Leafy serenity of Katamon, buzz of the city center, and pine cones at the Independence Park.
The cats, having mastered Zen tranquility, observe humans scattering like mice.  Dust obscures the time as it passes, and time turns into dust right in front of your eyes, and stops for a bow at the Kotel.  Eternity winks at you from the window and offers you a tissue.
They'll slap you and throw you to the ground, then run to pick you up, because you could've gotten hurt.  Still in their slippers, because it's Home, and why bother for brothers?
Ever growing Jerusalem, steel and blue glass and  monuments that say everything, yet nothing you could understand.
When the sun goes for a dip in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem blushes the sunset on her cheeks and changes into her purple gown. Till the garbage people alarm her hustle and bustle awake.
Jerusalem, wearing her grey raincoat, splashing at you playfully from every puddle, and showering your feet on every staircase.  Stones polished into a skating rink till no dirt sticks to them.
And faces. Wrinkled faces, screaming with grief faces, clowns and madmen, hungry and greedy, longing and bored, and young olive saplings round the table blessed from Above. 
Walk all around her and surround her, count her towers and make her yours. Watch the elders spitting out the seed shells in her gates and know that the King is standing close behind the Wall, listening in, knocking at the door, looking for His beloved.
Know her, walk her, build her, love her with your every step. Don't waste a minute. Because you're living here for yourself for all those who didn't.
 

The pink elephant, quia absurdum.

Living in Bet Shemesh. A beautiful town, without the sea, but with fantastic people. A real gathering of the exiles, communities full of chessed and parks for the kiddies.
But you know there is a BUT coming. The BUT is the fanatics who are trying their best to change the way we think and see things.
When I fist came to Israel, I used to hang out with the really heavy duty chassidic families in areas like Ezrat Torah in Jerusalem. Where women shave their heads and eat in the kitchen. Where boys and girls in one family cannot communicate even if they wanted to, because they do not share a language. The boys speak only Yiddish, and the girls - only Hebrew.  One of the grandmas there showed me her wedding album, and oh gosh. In the 30s, chassidic women wore skirts above the knee, and no socks! Her friends were photographed in short and light white and colourful dresses,  with hair showing, free dress style, open sandals, and looking very much like my mom did in her USSR life in the same 30s. The men had white suits, no beard, and no peot showing. Chassidim! What changed?!

When I came to live in Israel in 1995, there was one (one!!) separate bus in the whole country. And charedi people themselves found it weird and pointed at it, saying, oh, the crazies. Shall I remind you what it looks like now? Shall I remind you of all the cases of men hitting women (!) for refusing to sit where told? Bus tires sliced, bins burned.

11 years ago, when we moved to Bet Shemesh, the local advertising papers would publish pictures of girls under the age of 5 or so, but not older. No women. But at least girls! Since then, the faces of those girls have been blurred. Then, eventually, there were no girls at all.  The latest rules dictate that no women's names are to appear in the media.
The full list of new rules appears here: http://lifeinisrael.blogspot.co.il/2015/02/the-crazies-of-bet-shemesh-set-new.html
Here are some of them:
 * no images of sheitels or hair
 *  no images of men modeling anything. images of male children must be clearly haredi.
 * no advertising judo, self-defense, etc classes
 * no advertising driving lessons for women or yeshiva bochurim
 * no advertising mixed events or performers who perform before mixed crowds.
 * no advertising evenings of music or chazzanut even if it is for a male-only crowd and for a mitzva
 * no renting rooms for rent,  unless it is in a haredi area
 * no advertising restaurants or other entertainment spots that are not in haredi areas
 * cannot use the words "tzimmer", "pregnant", "nursing", names of women, ...
 * no using words and concepts of the army, police or academy...
What's happening to my people?  It's clearly a process. Where is it taking us?

The latest is that the very word "woman" has become dirty. There are pictures circulating on the social media - the Bet Shemesh women's wellness centre had the word "woman" obliterated.  This made me think of the lecture I've heard once from a dear teacher at Neve, Rebbetzen Heller. And her words stayed with me. She said, when people consider a thing dirty, they'll keep on inventing new euphemisms for it, while the old euphemisms will keep on becoming derogatory. Examples - any term related to the human reproductive system and excretion. Sadly, the same happened with the terms white people used for the black people - because of racist minds, ever new and exciting terms keep on coming up - "black" instead of the N word, etc. "Breast cancer" is the "women's disease".  So the word "woman" is the new derogatory. I dare my dear readers to look out for the new emerging euphemisms, invented to replace the "dirty" concept of "women". Because they'll come.

I find this tendency absolutely terrifying. For a number of reasons -
 1. Where does this stop? And does it? Why don't the authorities remove the children from homes where girls are forced to walk around in black tents and turn to the wall when a male enters? Is that any less abuse than, let's say, drug use? Or children who are beaten by their parents and get forcibly removed. In secular homes, children are taken away for a lot a lot less. The State is betraying those children.
 2. The split between the charedi society and everybody else - even the moderate charedim. In some 50 years we won't be one nation - there will be the tzanua ones and the ones who didn't measure up. Call it the new Christianity or whatever - it's coming.
 3. As the process goes on, there will be more and more violence against women and those who are in any way different. Extremist and narrow thinking cannot abide by any difference.
 4. The psychological aspect - this is not bordering on neurosis, it's way more. Thousands of children are receiving an education designed to damage them psychologically. The sex-phobia, the huge pink elephant nobody wants to talk about. Living in shame and fear of one's body.  When will they start removing lamp posts, because they look like the male member - I'm telling you, it's coming, too. Any object could be used for the purpose of fornication - because in their minds, all people think about is that. Regards from grandpa Freud. And our children will share the world with theirs. How?
I'm sorry to say, but for me, as a person who happens to know history really well, this situation is screaming louder than the sirens we had in the summer.  It's bringing up heavy associations - with the Inquisition, for example. This world view is more Christian than Christianity is today. With the Soviet style oppression of those who are different. With all the tragedies caused by racism. This is straight out of Orwell. And Freud. We claim to be the Chosen People, with God-given Torah and a just, Divine-ordained conduct of society. But the two just don't stitch together. If you believe one, the other is absurd, and visa versa. We cannot be both Divine -inspired and chosen, and try to obliterate the women. We can't have a society where only men are equal/chosen/accepted/ in existence.  We do not do "credo quia absurdum" - we have always been known for our logic. SO what's going on?

My postulate is that this tznius process is an extreme reaction to the Holocaust. Some people (Rabbis?) believe that we can prevent a recurrence of it by being invisible. By being more holy than humans, by becoming a body-less society, angels. If we are perfect, or rather, we don't exist in this sinful world,  there will be no Holocaust anymore. Their hatred for the State comes of the same root - the active, fighting and voting Jews are exposing themselves to Divine retribution, just like the "maskilim" did in the 30s, and if wrath gets poured, it will be poured on everybody. It's not a coincidence that the stories of the righteous escaping the Nazis by direct Divine intervention are bestsellers in the Charedi society. It is not a coincidence that they prohibit men from working - body-less men engaged in Torah only will sweeten the judgement. It's not a coincidence that women are expected to dwell in the Tent - that's how a woman becomes a body-less angel. Invisible and safe. The charedi society is disengaging not only from the secular Jews,  it's parting with the physical world as such. As much as possible.
Solutions? I have none. Perhaps this process has gone too far to stop or reverse it. But the only ones who can - the Rabbis - are actually propelling our people forward. They're removing them from the world in order to save them.  I don't know what can break the solid glass wall of their fear.
As the society becomes more and more stringent, more and more people part with it. They should have some kind of a support framework. And perhaps, it's time the State interfered to create that support. Many people have nowhere to go.  Perhaps time for the State to cooperate with the Rabbis. Time some things became illegal, and came with heavy fines. Because the shekel is something anyone understands. Time to open education centers, libraries, matnasim  in the Charedi areas - places where kids can find out about the world. Some kind of youth support groups - under the guidance of the Rabbis who do see beyond their noses.Education and extremism cannot go together.  And we can petition the State on the eve of the elections - for the sake of the future generations, for all of those. The women's party is the best and most hopeful sign of possible change.   It's time for charedim to come back to the world. Time for their children to stop living in terror.  God has placed us here to live and enjoy what we can.

Interviewing Ruth Kollian.

As a person who’s spent 8 years trying to be a charedi, as someone who knows the women’s situation there first hand, news of a charedi women’s party came as a bolt of thunder from a clear sky. How could this happen? According to our Rabbis, the place of a woman is in the kitchen. Are they, as well as everyone else, subject to changes that are taking place in our society? Observing the deep sociological processes taking place in that society may lead us to a conclusion that charedim might wish to be integrated in the wider society, and enter the work force market. And that leaves me hoping that one day our society might heal whole. Ruth Collian is the brave lady who dared take the rabbis on and walk her own path. 

-tell me please, why is there a need for a separate charedi party for women? And why now? Which needs and wishes are not being answered?

- there are 2 reasons. Firstly, the conditions in which charedi women live, and consequently, the state of their health. During the hearing in the Knesset committee for the position of women in the Israeli society the following statement was made: the mortality due to breast cancer is twice as high in the charedi sector as amongst the secular women. Why is that? The words “breast cancer” are not deemed modest enough to merit discussion. It’s the “women’s illness”. Charedi women take the eighth place in life expectancy in the Israeli society, while their men take the second. Why is that? How can that be, they eat the same food and breathe the same air. The difference is in the fact that women are being exploited.  The existing educational system allows women to become kindergarten teachers, school teachers and nursery workers, and that’s about it. Those women do not know their rights. Often, they don’t even have their travel expenses paid. For an 8 hours working day a woman gets paid a miserable amount of 2700 shekels, and her family is destined to live in poverty. There are thousands of those women, and our task is to help them.

The second problem is the women who suffer abuse in their family, usually by the hand of their husbands. Usually, they will not dare ask for help until their lives are threatened in a very meaningful way. And even if they dare, they have nowhere to turn. To ask for help means to be disowned by the wide community. I say that the abused woman gets beaten thrice: once by the husband, once by the community, which refuses to help her or to as much as acknowledge that such things take place in our society, and lastly, by the state. There are 14 shelters in Israel, out of them only one is suitable for the needs of the charedi women. It is difficult to understand, but that’s how it is – such a woman would never agree to be housed with her children in a shelter that has a TV set. For her whole life she’s been taught that the TV is the source of all evil. For her, that spiritual danger is much more meaningful and real than the damage done to her and her children by the father. And even that one and only shelter is full to its utmost capacity. And so she is being abused by the state, as well.

There is also the problem of the Rabbinic courts, which were given incomprehensible amount of power over people’s lives. It is a government institution which only employs men. It’s not a normal situation. There are judges who do their job honestly and diligently. However, there are judges who simply torture the women, trying to expose them as mentally and emotionally incapable. “Even if you are normal”, they say with their whole attitude – “by the time you come out, you’ll never be normal again”. In one case I know of, a woman complained that her husband abuses her, beats her. Once he poured a cup of water on her head, in front of her children and her whole family. The judge asked her, was the water hot or cold? – Warm, she answered. – And was the day hot? See, he cares for you! – was the judge’s conclusion. Women encounter despicable treatment when they turn for help. The attitude is “you were raped, but you must’ve enjoyed it”. Litzman and other Knesset members would gladly allow a woman cleaner into their house, but would never allow a woman attorney (toenet rabbanit) into the court proceedings. This is exactly the problem that we would like to fix – we intend to train women to work with the rabbinic courts, who would have the right to return a case for an additional hearing in cases of injustice. It’s time to bring an end to this carnival of bullying and humiliation. 

Obviously, we intend to care for the whole society, and not just our specific sector. The changes we intend to bring about would help all Israelis who weren’t born by the “feeder.” For example, we would like to extend the maternity leave, and to give men equal rights when claiming it. See, what happens now is that a woman comes for a job interview, and what goes through the head of prospective employer is that she is likely to give birth soon, since she is still in her reproductive years, so a man gets hired instead. If men could claim maternity leave, this consideration would no longer be relevant for the employer. Also, consider single mothers. Married women can earn as much as they want, while the poor woman who got dumped by her husband, and her husband doesn’t pay her the child support money, is limited to 4200 shekels income. If she earns more than 1600, she loses the child support that the state pays her. Is that how the Jewish State should conduct things? While her husband continues to live a life of leisure, as if nothing happened, she is just barely surviving. We would like to give these women an option of studying for a profession, so that they could provide for themselves. To turn them into a member of the society who benefits the whole, instead of being a burden on that whole. The State is effectively telling the women – go work without paying tax, get an undeclared salary. Because she cannot survive on what they give and allow her to have. The State doesn’t care about the children growing up in dire poverty. There are thousands of such mothers. This is something we would not give in on.

Also, many parties discuss the zero tax on basic products. But the list of those products just shows how far they are from the people.  It’s essential to include not only bread and milk on that list, but electricity, gas and medicines. Those are the essential products! Obviously, this would only apply to people who really need it.

For the “Russians”, I have another idea. The doctor who treats my children moved to Israel when she was older than 40. She spent 7 years proving her license. I asked her about her pension, and she just laughed. Pension? I don’t have any, she said. Well, that is unacceptable. The Jewish Agency brings people in without a consideration of what might befall them here. I would like to insist on a budget pension for all such people, who hadn’t had the time to earn it. Aliya should never be a goal in itself; we have to think about how these people will survive here. When I look at that doctor, I think of my mother. I wouldn’t want to see her in that situation! The State has to take responsibility for the people who cannot provide for themselves.

-Why do you insist on being represented in the Knesset? See, the problems of the Russian speaking sector are not new, and yet our representatives in the Knesset hadn’t been able able to solve them for the last 20 years. Why do you think you’d be able to help the charedi women from there?

-The Russian-speaking deputies also cannot identify with the person on the street – just as their Israeli colleagues cannot. They don’t know what it’s like, to live in fear, to not know where your piece of bread will come from. They can never understand it... I’ve been through it, and I understand. See, now I’ve got my lawyer’s diploma, I could just sit and make a decent living for my family, just like everybody does. But I can’t forget the suffering I’ve seen. 

-That’s exactly what I’ve been wanting to ask you about. How come you’ve got such a prestigious profession – you are a lawyer. The Rabbis, as we know, do not approve of people studying in universities, be they men or women.

-I’ve begun my studies, when, I think, the Rabbis haven’t quite figured out yet that a college is the same thing as a university. Now they would’ve never allowed it. When Rav Ovadya was still alive, because of his daughter, some rabbis were more lenient. Now they’re not.

- Tell me, what do you feel coming your way from the community? Is it animosity? Support? How do they treat you? I know the charedi community from the inside, and I can tell you that you are an incredibly brave woman.

- Yes, once they called me from a charedi radio station. The interviewer tried to expose me as a fool, as a little child. “Tell me, are you bored? Why not go do something useful in your kitchen? Why the Knesset? Are you even charedi?” – that’s what he said to me. I don’t take animosity to heart. There is a God, and He knows what’s really in my heart. He knows my deeds and intentions, and I do not have to give account to anyone else. There are Rabbis who support my initiative, but I can never name them, because they would be publically shamed. I would rather not run for the Knesset, than expose those people and cause them any kind of discomfort.

- what are the consequences of this campaign for you? For your family? Does your husband support you?

-at first, I was terrified. People would say to me; “Your children will never find a shidduch, because of what you’ve done. It’s terrible, when your daughter turns 28, and everybody is throwing her looks because she’s not yet married. Aren’t you afraid?” – and then I thought – why would I want those people in my family, anyway? Maybe I would not want them, and not visa versa? I am waiting to hear this question again, because now I have an answer for them. For some guy to marry my daughter, and demand that she becomes a nursery teacher to be exploited, without any rights? Never! Don’t let them think they’re doing me a favour by accepting me!

-Tell me, charedi women, when standing there alone in front of neat rows of cards with party names, are they still under control of the Rabbis? Would they dare vote for you? Or do they think God will punish them?

- at the polling station a woman stands alone, just with herself and God. Yes, many of them will say, I know the system is corrupt, but I am afraid. I hope there will be enough of them who will dare. That’s exactly how it is – I’m not even sure my own sister will dare vote for me for the fear of the Rabbis. She is one of those exploited nursery teachers whom I hope to help...

- Would you say these elections are a turning point in Israel’s history? What will change after them?

- Unquestionably so. People are saying that the protest of the charedi women is the most justified protest in the history of the State. It’s an earth-shifting change. It’s a promise of knowledge and independence for the charedi women.

-It sure sounds like a dream! I honestly feel like pinching myself. You are such a free-thinking person. Would you like to see the girls studying in the Bet Yaakov system developing free thinking skills, as well? Would you like to see more women attorneys? What would you change in that system?

- My children are getting a decent education. They are studying English...

- and sciences, as well?

- No, I’m not sure they do. But I’m very pleased with their studies. I insist on them getting a professional education, so that, God forbid, they would never be a burden on society. We say, make your Shabbat a weekday, but do not rely on others. And this is the society that is dependent on others in its entirety? That’s a disgrace.

- how would you deal with the fanatics who spit at women, burn bins and puncture tyres of “Egged” buses?

- We can only deal with them by explanations. Secular people often don’t understand just how our people are ready to give up their lives for the most minute injunction of the Torah. They perceive the new drafting law as an attempt to make them violate commandments. We must make it clear that the army doesn’t demand anything of the sort. It’s natural for people to be afraid of new things.. so they’re afraid. They just don’t know. I always compare the charedi society to an egg. If an egg is broken from the outside, it dies, but if the shell is broken from within – a new life is born. So too with our society – the changes are already taking place, but they must come from within.

- well, I’d like to wish you much luck in the upcoming elections! Thank you for sharing your views with ReLevant!

To stitch a quilt together

Israeli society is divided, polarized and  split.  There is very little or no communication between the groups. Prejudice is more prevalent than falafel. And every day , it bothers me more.
I teach in a special program for Ethiopians. More often than not, we end up discussing things, which I think are no less important than English, which they're meant to be learning. I cannot punish them, give them a grade, or send them home, I'm not a part of the system. So we end up talking. They asked me where I live, I said, Ramat Bet Shemesh. One kid said, oh, but that's where all those violent people in black live. They attack you and scream something in Yiddish. Is that what their language is called? Another one said, we waved some sticks at them and they run away. They think we are all murderers. And he added, there is like a line between their area and ours. They don't come to us, and we don't go to them. But if they attack us, we can fight! I said, hold on one second. Do you hear yourselves? You say, these violent people in black, and yet, they are afraid of you because you wave sticks at them. (And I didn't say, prejudiced against your black skin). They think you are the violent ones!  The bottom line is that no group is violent as a group - there are individuals who have problems, and cannot control themselves. And then I asked, have you ever spoken to any of them? Face to face? They admitted they have not. They don't feel safe or comfortable starting a conversation. I'm sure that fact applies in reverse. The Charedim have never sat down and had a conversation with the Ethiopians, who live 2 streets down. In my opinion, they have more in common than they know - dedication to customs, reverence of the elders, kids helping out at home, strict upbringing and living poverty, education challenges and rejection by the outside society, to name just a few. Yes, I'm aware of the stereotypes, but let's just say sometimes they are accurate. People in black are afraid of the black people, and visa versa. Oh, the irony.

Later that day I found myself waiting on the stairs of a regular Israeli school for my son to come out. He was taking an exam for a special program they run here in Bet Shemesh. We had about a half an hour left, more and more parents were coming. Eventually, they divided into 3 distinct groups, Israelis, Anglos, and Russians. As someone who's fully comfortable in all 3, I decided have a go listening in to all of them. The Israelis were waving their arms around, getting all emotional, blaming the police in light of the recent scandals, talking about education, kids' diet and the situation in the North.
When I joined the Anglos, I heard that they, too, were talking about schools, about the new location of the shuk in Bet Shemesh and the expenses involved in keeping  a big car.
The Russians - guess what? - were talking about education, as well! And about the challenges of living in a bilingual home and the rising expenses of living.
They, too, have so much in common. But not in a million years will it occur to them to talk about these things to each other!
Dear Anglos, please don't tell me your Hebrew is terrible or non-existent after 20 years of living here. When you don't make an effort to meet Israelis, get to know them, and maybe even get friendly. Underneath our skin and mentality there is something we all share as humans and Jews.
Dear Israelis, don't tell me the Anglos are all snobs. Because you haven't made an effort to approach them and ask how are they settling here.
And lastly, dear Russians, don't tell me the society rejects you because of being Russian. Because you're quite comfortable being rejected and keeping to yourselves, with your own shops, music and newspapers, and away from the "natives" .
What Bet Shemesh (and Israel) needs is for people to meet each other. To look each other in the eyes and say 'hello'. We will not be a nation till we at least learn to talk to each other. To learn each others customs. To reduce the fear. We resemble a multi-coloured quilt, and it's wonderful. But the quilt has to hold together, with words being the stitches.
So, let me challenge you, dear readers. Be brave. Approach an Ethiopian and ask him what his favourite food is. Approach a Russian and ask where they like to go shopping. Ask a chassid if they're happy with the weather.  It doesn't have to be complicated, or political, or charged. Just simple human interaction. Until that happens - we are not one people. We are not one city.We are exposed and vulnerable. Please comment below as to how you think we can fix it.

Just some unconnected thoughts

I think that any Jew alive today, and living as a Jew is a descendant of heroes. Any Jew today is of high lineage. Why? Because our ancestors chose to walk out of Spain and not become a Marrano. They chose to remain poor and uneducated in tzarist Russia and not become a Christian. They made all those choices, each and every Jew in his own lifetime. A long chain of heroism, self-denial, acceptance, faith. I hope and pray every day that my children will carry the mission on and not be the ones to break the chain of generations.

To love means to put your own life on the line. To accept a possibility that your heart might be broken into a thousand pieces. To trust another human - imperfect and fallible - with everything you have. If you don't trust completely, it ain't love. It's convenience.  Love is not only giving, and mutual, and caring, and being.  Love is trust.  That there isn't a monster hiding inside the other. To not have a plan B and a person B in mind. Possible? I don't know.

Love is trust and trust is love. But the ultimate trust is death.  Think about it - your body - your own precious body - in the hands of others. Unable to speak for itself, defend itself, express anything at all. Naked. Exposed and alone. With all its cellulite, grey hair, fat, and every blemish you've been striving to hide your whole life, stripped of all of its possessions, any protection.  The deceased has no choice but to trust, that's why in Judaism we treat them with the utmost respect. So so wise. Godly. it's not for them who died, it's for those who are still alive and watching, knowing that this is the end of all living things.

We are all crazy. There is this continuum of insanity, and we all are on it somewhere. Nobody is perfectly sane. It's impossible. We all have our psycho moments, when we lose touch with reality, become obsessive, we panic and suspect, deny and lie. Sometimes we get aggressive and lash out at those who don't deserve it. And then we say, what on earth has happened here? Don't ever look at those who are deeper than you on the psycho continuum. After all, you're on it, too, forever bobbing up and down like the float in the toilet water container, sinking when things are low. 

Each person lives in a see-through bubble. We wave and gesticulate and yell to others, locked in their identical bubbles. And sometimes they get the message, but most of the time it's distorted. Our entire communication is distorted. We think we understand each other, but in the end of the day the bubbles of the "self" prevent any real understanding. We see others through the prism of self. We think we know them, but in reality, we're only seeing our expectations, hopes, illusions of what others might be. And then suddenly we wake up, thinking, how can that be? A minute ago we had such perfect understanding, and now there are pieces of us and our relationship on the floor. A heart may be next to a heart, but the bubble still separates them.

The biggest fear is not that of death. It's of public humiliation. Of sticking out. of being the odd one out, the black sheep and the white crow - choose the imagery your language likes the most.  The age does not even matter, adults are just as guilty as teenagers. Don't believe me? Go out in a wheelchair one day. I think one of the greatest achievements of the civilization we call ours is that it's working on welcoming all people. One of the greatest achievements of our army is not the Iron Dome, but the unit where Down syndrome kids serve the country. It makes me cry just to think of it.  At least in a declaration, in the Western world we are all equal. At least we are instructed to treat the "other" with respect. It only took 2000 years of religious wars, witch hunts, slavery, and a few genocides here and there. The society is judged by how it treats the "other". However, there is still an animal underneath it all. If tomorrow the people wake up with famine at their doorstep, it would all be reversed in an instant. May we never be tested. May our humanity remain unscratched an unadulterated.