Lights in the Distance

DD - Z"L

2005-06-10T20:29:00.000+03:00

It is with deep sorrow that I announce the passing of DD, the husband of my friend, mentioned in my previous post. He passed away just over a month ago, peacefully, having had the opportunity to say goodbye to his family. A terrible, terrible tragedy; such a useless loss of a vibrant young life. And yet, there is also relief. Relief that he is finally free of pain and suffering, relief that he is no longer trapped.

Not a day goes by that I do not think of my poor, brave friend, and all that she has lost. I am amazed at her will and courage to go on, despite being dealt this cruelest of blows. Her wonderful, supportive family cannot fill the hole she feels in her heart, the emptiness left behind by the loss of her best friend, her partner. Despite this, she has chosen to continue living, to not allow herself to be beaten by his death. I am awed by her strength and decisive will.

Never take your loved ones for granted, for you never know what tomorrow may bring.

Prayers Needed

2005-02-28T10:00:00.000+02:00

As an avowed atheist, I am not prone to believing in the power of prayer, and in some sense, I am envious of those who can derive comfort from religion. It just isn't something that works for me personally. To believe that there is a being, someone or something controlling our fate, and that everything in life is predestined is a powerful concept, one that I find very difficult to accept. What I can accept is that there are people who believe in this idea, and I respect our differences. When religion and prayer are used to further causes that are noble and good, the spiritual aspects of my personality kick in, and I want to believe that perhaps somehow, it can make a difference. It is for this reason that I feel the need to turn to whoever is reading this, and ask for prayers, positive vibes, or whatever positive spiritual channeling that anyone can offer.

Several weeks ago, the husband of one of my closest friends fell ill and was taken to the hospital suffering from what they thought was dehydration. It turned out that his liver was damaged, and following the onset of acute liver failure, he underwent a liver transplant. During the course of the surgery, he suffered a heart attack and a series of strokes that have profoundly damaged his brain. His doctors have declared that he is awake, but completely unresponsive, and has little chance of recovery. The fact that he survived the transplant surgery is a miracle in itself, and I guess that I am really just hoping for another miracle. He has surprised the doctors once, and even though the chances are slim, I am hoping that he can somehow do it again. As long as they haven't said that there is no chance, I am not prepared to give up my last shred of hope for some sort of recovery, even if it isn't complete.

My friend is a wonderful, giving, strong person, and her husband is a terrific young man in his early thirties. Their life was on a good track before everything was suddenly blown completely apart by this horrible nightmare. She and I are now living on different continents, and it breaks my heart that I cannot be there in person to help her through this, as she has helped me through some of the darkest days of my life. I feel so terribly helpless, though probably not nearly as helpless as she does as she tries to bring her husband back to her, knowing that despite her best efforts, she may lose the person she loves above all others.

So, I am humbly asking all who read this, please pray, or do whatever it is that you do when you desperately need a miracle. Maybe together, we can all make a difference. Thank you.

Respect Your Neighbors...

2004-08-31T17:45:00.000+03:00

In the town where I grew up (Niskayuna, New York - we always used to joke that "Niskayuna" was the Indian word for "Land of High Taxes"), two of the primary employers were General Electric and the Knolls Atomic Power Laboratory (referred to locally as KAPL). As a result, our town was populated by a mix of well-educated people from around the world. These scientists, engineers and doctors moved to Niskayuna for the quality of life and the high quality of education provided by the local schools. Our friends growing up had roots in India, in China, and in Iran, as well as a plethora of other cultures. I can remember Ernie, two houses down, speaking with his parents in Spanish, and Afshean down the block, impressing us with his Farsi. There was Mickey, who came to school in the turban representative of his Sikh background, and I'm almost certain that I can remember the saris that some of my friends' mothers wore. We were a veritable melting pot of religions and cultures, and for us kids, it was totally normal. It would have been unthinkable to separate us from our friends based on these differences, and indeed, it was probably the unconditional acceptance of this diversity at such an early stage that led me to seek out friends from other cultures throughout my school and university years. In fact, one of the reasons that I chose my university was due to it having such a large percentage of international students.

I cherish my friendships with people from other backgrounds, and revel in the knowledge gained about childhoods so different from my own. I remember discussing religion late into the night with my freshman roommate - a Catholic woman who had spent the first 11 years of her life in Peru before moving to Tennessee. Her father had been in the Peruvian military and her mother had been an American nun working in Peru, and her stories were fascinating. I remember discussing the Arab-Israeli troubles with my Lebanese Druze friend. Despite our diametrically opposing viewpoints, we were able to be friends, and I can still recall his stories about growing up in war-torn Lebanon. Best of all, I remember evenings spent during my senior year at a little salsa club in Cambridge, where my friends from Ecuador and Colombia tried to teach me how to salsa.

Cultural diversity should be celebrated. It is not something to scorn, and it should not be an excuse to remain separated. What made me think about this topic today? An article on the Haaretz website states that Jewish residents in the Kiryat Menahem neighborhood in Ramle are opposed to the opening of an Arab school in their neighborhood. They claim that it will decrease property values and cause an increase in crime. The school in question is for first through third graders, and I can only imagine what that will do to the crime rate in Kiryat Menahem. According to neighborhood Rabbi Shalom Mordechai, "They work systematically. They talk about pluralism, about high-level education. First they'll send their kids here, then the parents will come live here. That's their modus operandi." He then goes on to claim that there is no racism involved. "Nobody hates them. They have neighborhoods of their own, let them live and study there. Why do they need an Arab school in the heart of a Jewish neighborhood? I support progressive education, even appreciate it, but let them do it in their own neighborhoods," he said.

If this isn't racism, then can someone please tell me what is? Israelis often moan about the anti-Semitism and anti-Israel sentiment raging around the world. It's true - we are the current pariah du jour, and I don't see that changing any time soon. However, Israelis must look inwards as well, and stop turning a blind eye to the rampant racism within our own society. Intolerance and even hatred of those who are different is frighteningly prevalent, and jibes and insults based on stereotypes and misconceptions regarding different ethnic groups are all too common. How can we possibly expect to get on in the world community if we can't even treat our fellow Israelis with the dignity and respect that we all deserve?

From Karkur to...

2004-08-25T20:43:00.000+03:00

Well, it's official. Israeli windsurfer Gal Friedman has won Israel's first Olympic gold medal ever. The folks over at Israel's channel 1 were beside themselves with joy as they kept rerunning the clip from the race's final moments, interspersed with interviews with the winner himself, as well as his coach, who apparently gave up his job as an engineer at Motorola in order to coach Gal on a full-time basis. It's all very exciting, and of course, it's always nice to see Israel shown in a positive light for a change.

What makes it even more interesting for me is that Mr Friedman (or at least his family) lives in the same town that I do - Karkur. While admittedly, I don't know the Friedmans, but I can't help but take neighborly pride in his accomplishment.

My husband asked me several days ago if I cheered for the Americans as I cheered for the Israelis, and if it made me just as happy to see the Americans win medals. At the time, I said yes, but qualified my response by pointing out that seeing Americans win medals was a more frequent occurence than seeing Israelis with medals. Having just watched the medals ceremony, seeing the Israeli flag being raised as Hatikvah was played, I can honestly say that I don't ever remember becoming emotional (just a few tears, I swear!) hearing the American anthem. Call me hokey, but today, I'm proud to be an Israeli. (Maybe slightly less proud when watching all the Israelis in the stands swarm around Gal at the end of Hatikvah, turning what was supposed to be a dignified ceremony into a free-for-all...)

On another Olympic note, who is telling the channel 1 reporters how to pronounce the athletes' names? Watching the womens' diving earlier today, I was appalled to hear the reporter refer to the South African diver as Yenna (on the screen it said Jenna), and even more distressing, the English diver Jane Smith became Yanneh Smith. My husband tried to defend him, mentioning the difficulty of some of the names, but even he had to concede that "Yanneh" was stretching things a bit far.

Oh well, time to watch the Prime Minister congratulate Israel's latest national (and my local) hero over the phone, and Israel's Education Minister Limor Livnat fall all over herself in her latest photo op, as she proudly tells Gur Steinberg, Gal Fridman's coach, that Motorola will roll out the red carpet for him to return. Too bad she can't arrange that for all Israelis who have lost their jobs.

You've Come a Long Way, Baby...

2004-08-20T12:34:00.000+03:00

It had been a long time since I'd had to put in an appearance at the Interior Ministry, and was dreading having to go. However, in order to register my son as an American citizen, I had to go to the local Ministry office, which, in our case, is in Hadera, in order to get his birth certificate. As long as we were going, I figured that we would take care of his passport and renew my passport as well, which will expire shortly after the first of the year. Why rush to get it all done now, you ask? Well, as is typical for this time of year, the natives are getting restless, and the Histadrut/labor unions are threatening a strike, scheduled to begin on the first of September. How very original. In any event, we thought it best to get everything out of the way now, so that we wouldn't be sorry later. I can still remember the scenes shown on Israeli television during the last strike, with hordes of people stampeding to get into different government offices that were open for one day only in order to allow the regular folks to get things done. It was scary to watch, and I'm assuming even worse to experience, and frankly, something I'd prefer to avoid at all costs.

Having gone for our passport photos the evening before (with my husband's thumb in my son's picture, as he had to hold him up in front of a white wall for the American passport background requirement), we drove to Hadera, as I mentally prepared myself for Israeli bureaucracy at its worst. I can remember past trips to various Interior Ministry offices around the country - small hole-in-the-wall venues with inadequate amounts of both fresh air and pleasant, expeditious service. I remember the war stories from other Interior Ministry "survivors", stories which usually began with having to get up during the middle of the night in order to be at the Ministry office before it opened, so that you wouldn't have to wait for too many hours to be served, and ended with repeat visits to complete what should have been simple tasks, only to be frustrated by the inevitable to request to return with "all" of the necessary documents, because despite numerous phone calls beforehand (including the thousand or so tries when the phone was either busy or being left to ring because no one could be bothered to pick it up), chances were excellent that there would be at least one missing document (based, I am sure, on secret internal memos passed out to Ministry employees on a daily basis, designed to confuse and confound the public). Oh yes, the good old days.

Yesterday's experience could not have been further from past experiences. Having done my research online, downloaded and printed out the proper forms and gathered all of the required documentation, we made our way to the Ministry office in Hadera, located conveniently in a quiet shopping mall with adequate underground parking. We arrived at around 10:30; the office had opened at 8:00 AM, and I could only imagine the lines that awaited us upstairs. Yes, there were quite a few people in line ahead of us, but we managed to take care of the birth certificate and my passport in record time, without having to wait at all, as the birth certificate is printed on the spot, and thus doesn't require taking a number, and we convinced the very nice woman(!) to take care of my passport at the same time (personally, I thought it was because our son has the same name as her son, but why question our good fortune). Ten minutes later, we took care of our son's passport, and that was it. Less than 30 minutes spent on three tasks in the high-ceilinged, air conditioned, clean Interior Ministry office. Needless to say, I was amazed as well as strangely introspective, as I realized that I've been living in Israel long enough to remember how things used to be. Interior Ministry clerks who were both nice and speedy. Now, if only we could figure out a way to stop the strikes, get people to take smoking laws seriously, convince people to drive as though not every other driver is the enemy, put a stop to the absurd amounts of littering, and teach people to respect each other, we'd be all set!

A New Israeli Blog...

2004-07-18T20:30:00.000+03:00

What promises to be an interesting new blog has appeared in Blogland. Israel Peace/Salaam/Shalom presents Deerlife's "ideas, opinions and comments about peace and coexistence in Israel and Jewish and universal spirituality."

Check it out!

Update: Just tried to access this blog, and it seems to have disappeared. Let us know if it comes back online.

New Kid on the Block...

2004-07-15T19:01:00.000+03:00

Big congratulations to Allison over at An Unsealed Room on the birth of her daughter! Hurrah! Another new blogger baby on the block!

Life After Birth...

2004-07-14T21:35:00.000+03:00

I am amazed at how much smaller my world seems to have gotten since the birth of my son nearly seven weeks ago. Whereas before, even though I was pretty much stuck at home because the pregnancy was considered high risk, I at least knew what was going on in the world, news freak that I am. Now, not only am I borderline clueless about current global and local events, I'm discovering that I'm just too busy and too tired to really give a damn. Obviously, my priorities have completely shifted, and instead of trolling the Internet for hours on end reading the news and other Blogs, I'm spending hours doing laundry and trying to elicit smiles from the wee one, who has yet to demonstrate whether or not he's inherited my family's sense of humor.

My parents have been and gone, and we have more or less developed some semblance of a routine, which has proved to be a challenge, for the kid has clearly not read any of the baby books that would let him know what he's supposed to be doing at this stage of his life. For the record, neither have I, because I'm just too busy trying to be entertaining. It seems that he has decided to forgo the more popular route of taking long, leisurely naps between feeds, and instead has chosen to take 7-12 minute catnaps on and off throughout the day, usually while feeding, and usually waking up just as I try to put him down. Having achieved what appears to be deep slumber for at least five minutes from the moment his eyes closed during feeding time, and remaining asleep during my careful patter across the room to his bed, I put him down gently and look down on him fondly, only to find him looking back up at me, eyes open wide and innocent, letting me know that he's once again refreshed and ready for action. He's chosen the long, leisurely nap route today, which is how I've been able to get quite a bit done around the house today, as well as finally add a new Blog entry.

I suppose I could go on endlessly about the little guy, but I'll spare you. I promised myself that I wouldn't become one of those people who can't stop talking about their children, and I think I'm coming dangerously close to crossing that line. Besides, he's blessed us with a long nap day today, and I've got to go take full advantage before he changes his mind...

A New Little Light in the Distance

2004-06-01T15:10:00.000+03:00

Well, it seems that my last post was somewhat prophetic. Early Friday morning, following a long, but not too difficult labor, our son was born. I won't go into the gory details (and they are a bit gory), but in the end, we all came through it okay, and are now settling in at home as a family of three (four, if you include the dog).

The hospital experience was interesting, to say the least. One of my roommates was a young Russian woman who's been in Israel for approximately eightteen months, married to a young man from Italy who's been in Israeli for slightly less time. During the course of their relationship, she'd managed to learn both Hebrew and fluent Italian, while he hasn't managed to learn any Hebrew. Most of the other women in the ward seemed to be either Arab or Russian, with native Israelis being few and far between. The post-birth exercise class that I attended included no native Hebrew speakers, and when the physiotherapist instructing the class handed out printed exercise instructions in Hebrew, I wondered whether any of us would actually be able to read them without problems. Just another typical Israeli experience.

In any event, I'm sure that none of you (assuming I have any faithful readers out there) will mind if I keep this entry short, as I'm somewhat busier than usual these days. Will try to write again soon, but just keep checking this space and I'll do my best to keep it filled...

Babies and Zionism...

2004-05-25T11:49:00.000+03:00

Well, here I am, less than two weeks away from my due date, which I suppose means that I can give birth anytime between now and four weeks from now. Lots of things swirling around my head these days as I try to take care of all the errands that need to be done before heading to the hospital and doing my best to meet the office work deadlines before the big biological deadline hits. Given that none of the deadlines are written in stone (which is more likely to happen at the designated time - a software release or a birth due date? Frankly, I'm at a loss for an answer...), I'm sure you can imagine how focused I am on global current events these days. So, to those of you who were hoping to read another scintillating entry about my take on what's happening in our little neighborhood of the Middle East, I hope that you won't be too disappointed. I may touch on the situation at some point, depending on what direction my wandering mind takes as I'm writing, but it would be irresponsible of me to make promises that I may not be able to keep today.

As you all know by now, I was born in the US. My husband was born in Iran and came to Israel at the age of three. The Shah was still many years away from being overthrown, and Iran and Israel were on pretty good terms. As opposed to a number of his cousins who had to flee Iran by escaping through the mountains and other secret, dangerous routes, my husband and his immediate family were not only able to fly here on a direct flight from Tehran with all of their belongings (even bringing a television, before there were any television stations here), but several years later, his mother even flew back to Iran on another direct flight with my youngest brother-in-law for a visit. So, while my husband is essentially very Israeli, it also means that our child will be a first-generation sabra, which tickles the Zionist in me to no end.

When we first began the baby journey, I had lovely Zionist ideas about giving birth at one of the Hadassah Hospitals in Jerusalem, as their histories are so interwined with the founding of the State of Israel. It seemed fitting to me that the first Israeli-born child of two immigrants from very different cultures be brought into the world in a hospital founded by an organization committed to serving Israel.

Well, to make a long story short, life has a way of kicking you in the ass, and the dream didn't work out. Fast-forward to today, and the current plan of action is to give birth at the hospital located ten minutes from our home - nowhere near Jerusalem. While the main focus, of course, is to bring home a healthy child with all parts intact, when I'm wearing my Zionist hat, I think about the hospital itself, located relatively close to a big chunk of the Israeli Arab population, in a town with a diverse mix of veteran Israelis and immigrants. The hospital is a microcosm of Israeli society, and a successful experiment in cooperation. Despite the problems outside the walls, it gives me hope (and a bit of a thrill) to see the way that personal biases and national identities are put aside for the greater good of healing and saving lives. In some small way, I feel that I am doing my part for coexistence by exposing my soon-to-be-born child to such a positive environment at the very earliest stages of his life, in the hope that perhaps something, somehow will rub off on him straight away. Silly, I know, but idealism does that to a person. I'm sure that every new parent ponders these outside influences, wondering what they have to do to lay the groundwork for the values that they wish to instill, while at the same time realizing that in the end, they have very little control over the outcome and can only trust in their own instincts and hope for the best.

They say that babies can become familiar with different voices and sounds while still inside the womb, and that they will show a degree of recognition when hearing these sounds once they are born. I'm going on the assumption that there's at least some truth to this concept, and have been acting accordingly. With any luck, our little one should enter the world with extensive musical knowledge, with an ability to identify most of the greatest hits from the 1940s through the '80s, with particular emphasis on the Israeli hits of the '70s, the classic one-hit wonders of the '80s and the Grateful Dead - one of Mommy's favorites when she just needs to chill.

Amazing Photos

2004-05-22T18:49:00.000+03:00

I know I just posted, but after wandering through a few other blogs, I'd be remiss in not telling everyone to check out the amazing photos of the Tel Aviv area taken by my pal over at Anglosaxy. Definitely worth a look.

Israel and the Double Standard...

2004-05-22T16:16:00.000+03:00

Yikes. It's been a whole week since my last post. I never intended to leave such a big gap between entries, but it was a hectic week, and I haven't really felt like adding my two cents about the frightening acts being perpetrated by the IDF in Rafiah. While I can certainly understand the need for a secure Israel, it seems to me that destroying the homes of so many people who aren't too keen on us in the first place will only make the situation harder to repair if and when Israel decides to try to make nice again. In the meantime, the entire world is coming down on us once again, and even the US isn't really rushing to defend our actions. Of course, they have been rather busy dealing with the fallout from the photos taken at Abu Ghraib Prison as well as trying to make the world believe that the 40 people they killed in Iraq this week weren't actually celebrating a wedding...

It's quite interesting to think about, really. Here we are, walking a very fine line between self-defense and human rights abuses as we continue with our valid yet sorely misguided attempts to achieve national security. As a result, we are chastised for our efforts to fight terror by everyone except Micronesia and told that we must put an end to these activities at once. It's understandable, given that we are collectively punishing many innocent people for the actions of a few (relatively speaking) in order to put an end to the smuggling of weapons from Egypt. I think it would be easier for most of us to accept though, if bodies such as the EU and the UN would give equal fingerpointing time to other deserving countries as well. Put quite simply, while Israel is rewarded with international boycotts and questions regarding its legitimacy to exist, a country like China, known for its human rights abuses (those students in Tianenmen Square and the Falun Gong followers constituted major threats to national security, I'm sure), is rewarded with the Olympics. Libya, led by the ever-so-quirky archterrorist of yesterday Muammar Qaddafi, is currently the flavor of the month in Europe, with all past atrocities conveniently swept under the proverbial rug and forgotten. When it comes down to it, do we really believe that he's changed, turned over a new leaf and become one of the good guys? Sorry, but that's a bit hard to swallow.

I look at the country that I've chosen as my home, and try to figure out how things went so wrong. Sure, we can be a little rough around the edges, even bordering on arrogant at times, but what was it that turned us into the world's pariah? Why doesn't the world question Russia's involvement in Chechnya, which clearly poses no threat to Russia's existence, while at the same time condemning Israel for actions of self-defense against a hostile neighbor inhabited by elements fighting for its destruction? In most instances, I cannot condone or justify the actions of the current Israeli government, but there is almost nothing that infuriates me more than those who criticize and condemn us from the comfort and safety of their own countries, people who do not have even an inkling of what it is like to live in a country where terror is constantly lurking in the shadows, and you have to make a conscious effort not to let it affect your daily life. I'm sorry if the Europeans find our need to defend ourselves distasteful (even though our methods are often questionable at best), and I truly hope that you never find yourselves in the situation that Israel is in, because frankly, I don't think you're up for the task.

I see snow falling...

2004-05-15T13:11:00.000+03:00

"I look out my window. I see snow falling. It falls very quietly. I can't hear it falling. I will go out tomorrow and make a snowman. I will give it two eyes and a nose and a mouth."

I must have written that when I was around eight or nine years old (Mom and Dad, feel free to add a comment if you can remember how old I was when I wrote this), and my parents have saved it all these years. They faxed it to me yesterday, and my husband was quite amused, reading out loud from the page written in the carefully printed handwriting of a young child. To be honest, I don't remember writing it, given that it was so long ago, but I do remember the innocence of my childhood, building snowmen and snow forts in the Winter (Snowball fight tip #1: adding spit to the packed snowball gives it an icy edge that will inflict a bit more pain on your opponent), playing kickball, monster in the midnight and spud (does anyone else remember spud?) in the Summer. We could play in the streets and around the neighborhood without our parents having to worry. We knew nothing of children being abducted, and we certainly knew nothing of terror attacks. The most frightening thing we could think of was disappearing in the Bermuda Triangle, which, given the fact that we lived in a small town in Upstate New York, was highly unlikely.

A couple of years ago, I heard the neighborhood children playing outside under our living room window. Hearing the typical banter of kids at play made me smile, until I heard one of them say, "this time I want to be the suicide bomber." When did cowboys and Indians become terrorists and victims? This is not to say that children here have a bad childhood. On the contrary, the children I see around me are happy, normal children, and aside from the dangers of "the situation" that plague all of us, most of the people I know feel that Israel is a better place to raise children than the US, and I am inclined to agree.

Despite this, I can't help but feel saddened by the world's loss of innocence, where children are taught to be wary of strangers and to watch out for suspicious objects, where parents bury their children, where lives are senselessly cut short by bombs and bullets and anything else that the depraved minds of those who feel that violence is the only way to achieve their goals can come up with. It's more than a little depressing to think about the experiences of today's youth, and their knowledge of the current events that may or may not be directly affecting their lives. I wonder about the world in which my unborn baby will grow up, and I long for the naivete of my own childhood, for snow days in Winter and neighborhood games of monster ball in Summer.

Snowball fight tip #2: if the snowball is not packed well, it will break apart as soon as it's thrown, leaving puffs of powdered snow flying through the air as it quickly disintegrates into nothing.

Dying for Peace

2004-05-12T13:53:00.000+03:00

Six Israeli soldiers were killed yesterday morning in Gaza when a bomb exploded under the armored personnel carrier in which they were traveling. It was obvious that something serious had happened even before the news reports began to provide more complete accounts of the events that had occurred. The reporters speak in guarded tones, and it is the words they don't say that make you realize that they are only giving part of the story, that what actually happened was far worse than what they are being permitted to share with the viewers. You keep checking the news sites to see if the full extent of the damage has been published, and the longer it takes, the greater the fear that something truly horrible must have happened. In this case, my fears were proven correct, as we not only lost six courageous young men, but the terrorist bastards who took their souls have also taken their bodies, and who knows if and when we will get them back.

To live in Israel is to live in a constant swirl of conflicting emotions and pressures. I often don't realize just how stressful it is until I've been out of the country for a bit, and I suddenly notice how calm I am. We took a trip to Europe last September. While driving around England, taking in the sights and sounds of the West Midlands and the quaint villages dotting the Welsh border, we heard about two terror attacks in Israel that had occurred only hours apart. I imagined what it must be like to live in a place where news like that is just one report out of several different reports of current events from around the world, instead of a national tragedy, where the chances are quite good that there will be less than six degrees of separation between yourself and one of the victims. While visiting friends in Norway, I tried to imagine what it must be like to ride a bus, knowing that you will get off in one piece at the destination of your own choosing, or to sit in a café, knowing that you will not be blown up while sipping your espresso.

Then I think of the Palestinians, not the terrorists, nor those who applaud their actions, celebrating the deaths of our children and their own - something that is beyond comprehension, something that I cannot see without feeling sick. I am thinking of the Palestinians who simply want to live their lives quietly, raising their children and working to be able to provide them with food to eat, clothes to wear and a roof to keep them warm, dry and safe from harm. It is not too much to ask for, I think. We all deserve the right to live in dignity and to be safe.

Despite the violence and deliberate provocations from extremists and politicians on both sides, I sincerely want to believe that there are also more people like me, regular people who want peace and believe that it can somehow be achieved. There must be more to our two societies than terrorists who intentionally kill small children and other innocent individuals, and settlers who believe that their "God-given" right to all parts of the Land of Israel supersedes the rights of all others who live on the same lands (for those of you who take this to mean that I support the Palestinians' right of return to lands within the Green Line, I don't). There must be potential leaders who truly have the interests of their citizens at heart, people who will make courageous decisions for the greater good, and not just try to beat down the other side or tiptoe around outspoken minorities, allowing them to dictate unpopular policies and practices while ignoring the will of the majority. I have to believe that this is possible, as the thought that we will all continue to bury our victims of senseless violence and continue to live our lives in fear for generations to come is unbearable.

Going for a ride in a handbasket...

2004-05-07T11:07:00.000+03:00

Not that we needed anyone to tell us, but the second part of the annual report written by State Comptroller Eliezer Goldberg only reinforces my belief that the state of domestic affairs in Israel is going to hell in a handbasket. I won't bore you with most of the gory details regarding the illegal funneling of funds to various settlements and outposts (some of which, were unauthorized outposts), the dreadful state of affairs in our hospitals and fraudulent voting, in which a number of dead people managed to make it to their local polling stations to cast votes for the Knesset. One particular issue mentioned in Haaretz yesterday afternoon stood out in the typical Israeli fashion of cutting corners and not making the effort to get things right the first time around:

"The comptroller also discovered that a bridge built by Israel Railway at a cost of NIS 8 million near the new terminal at Ben-Gurion International Airport will have to be demolished because it deviates from building limits for the area and interferes with the flight path at the new terminal."

Perhaps it happened because the new terminal - referred to as Ben-Gurion 2000 because it was supposed to begin operations back in the year 2000 - along with its flight path, still aren't finished, and it was difficult for them to gauge the correct distances by envisioning where the flight path would eventually be. That might explain the flight path interference issue (though I'm highly inclined to doubt it), but what about the issue of the deviation from area building limits? Who's the intelligent official behind that particular display of creativity? Any fool can build according to the limits, but it takes a special brand of idiocy to ignore the regulations AND build the bridge in the wrong place, resulting in astonishing amounts of money being wasted in building and then in tearing down said bridge. Maybe this individual felt that by creating facts on the ground (something our governments have always been strongly in favor of, opponents be damned), they would instead be able to change the flight path - a mind-numbing thought, but always a possibility.

I read another frightening article on the Haaretz Website recently. Apparently, the Knesset voted down a bill that would have called for a prime minister to resign in the event that he (or she) is indicted. I find it troubling that our elected officials often seem uninterested in many of the real social issues plaguing our society, yet they always seem to make themselves available for voting on those issues that are geared towards bettering their own situations or smoothing over their own legal troubles. The moral and ethical bankruptcy emanating from our government simply boggles the mind, and I imagine that it must come as a surprise to no one that our beloved country (and I do love Israel, don't get me wrong - I'm just not terribly keen on the way it's being run) is mired in a veritable plethora of crises of every conceivable nature. Perhaps if our politicians would make an effort to straighten up and fly right - in essence, get over themselves and start acting responsibly towards the nation as a whole instead of deviously wrangling on behalf of narrow interest groups on the fringes of society, our collective situation will finally take a turn for the better.

Terrorism...

2004-05-03T19:37:00.000+03:00

Words cannot describe the revulsion I felt upon hearing of yesterday's heinous terror attack in the Gaza Strip. Whether or not I or others believe the settlements should be there is irrelevant at times like this, when a pregnant woman and her four young daughters are murdered in such a horrific manner, and you can't help but wonder about the depths of depravity to which these twisted individuals are capable of sinking. There can be no justification for the cold-blooded, point-blank murder of four little girls and their mother, no matter who they were or where they lived.

I choose not to focus on the political aspects of their senseless deaths, but on the personal tragedies of those left behind. In the blink of an eye, a family of six (seven, if you count the unborn baby) has been destroyed, reduced to a shattered family of one. To lose one child is to experience indescribable pain. You feel that your whole world has fallen apart, and indeed, it has. People around you continue to go about their lives, and you wonder if you will ever be able to do the same. You wonder if you will ever be able to smile again, to laugh again, to look at another child without wanting to die yourself. If you are lucky and you are strong, you will find the way to cope with your pain, and eventually, gradually learn to live again. The pain doesn't go away, it simply becomes a part of you, something you carry with you always, but with any luck, you don't let it rule your life. That is losing one child. How does one recover from losing an entire family? It is truly incomprehensible. How can you go on, knowing that those you hold most dear have all been taken from you, wrenched away with such agonizing cruelty? How do you find the strength to live, let alone to heal? It is at times like these that I almost envy those people who can derive some semblance of comfort in believing that even the most horrendous acts are all a part of G-d's master plan, and that somehow, their loved ones had completed what they were put on earth to do, and that is why they were taken. I truly hope that Mr. Hatuel, husband to Tali and father to four beautiful little girls, is able to find the strength to go on living, the strength to smile again someday.

What some people have conveniently chosen to ignore is that terrorism is always a crime. It is vicious, indiscriminate violence, perpetrated with the singular goal of causing as much devastation and carnage as possible. It can happen anywhere at any time. Thousands of innocent people around the world have been murdered while riding buses, trains and planes, going to work, going to school, going out to eat. The list is endless, and the "creativity" shown by the terrorists in carrying out their attacks knows no bounds. To differentiate between victims sets a dangerous precedent whereby some victims are more acceptable than others, essentially condoning the justification for murder. One can disagree with the settlers and their actions, or disagree with the actions of the Israeli government, but to "understand" the murder of innocent civilians by terrorists and see it as an acceptable consequence of these actions is just as culpable for these deaths as if he or she had personally pulled the trigger or set off the bomb.

Disengagement and a Little Final Four...

2004-05-02T11:49:00.000+03:00

Well, today is the day. Today, the nation holds its collective breath, watching and waiting to see how the Likud party members will vote on Mr. Sharon's disengagement plan from Gaza. I'm not holding out much hope that the referendum will pass, given that the polls appearing in all the newspapers show that support for such a plan has eroded among the rank-and-file members of the party. Frankly, I'm not surprised, seeing as Sharon can't even manage to drum up support among his cabinet cronies, and no one is fooled by the lukewarm affirmative responses of Ministers Livnat, Netanyahu and Shalom (whose best quote ever has to be, "My name is Peace and I believe in peace," or some equivalent catchy little phrase). I've seen more enthusiasm from my dog when we take him for his annual vaccinations.

The big question is, how binding are the results? Far be it from me to claim expertise when it comes to the Israeli political arena (who am I kidding? I've got the right to claim expertise just as much as the next Israeli, and, as we know, all Israelis are experts when it comes to local politics, well, when it comes to anything, really...), but it does seem rather farfetched and more than a little bit frightening to think that major national decisions will be taken based on the outcome of a vote among those who support the Likud enough to be paying annual dues. If a referendum is being offered, I would think that a national referendum, one that more accurately reflects the feelings of all Israelis and not just the beliefs of one relatively small group of people, would be the way to go, especially seeing as the polls show that the majority of Israelis support the disengagement plan. Instead, Mr. Sharon is allowing the country's future to be hijacked by a party known historically for its ideological bent to the right, and more currently known for its criminal scandals and internal strife at all levels. In any event, I'm inclined to believe that this whole referendum is merely a ploy on Sharon's part to deflect attention from his family's growing list of troubles, and it seems to be working. After all, Sharon has proven himself to be a veritable master of the "Wag the Dog" political ideology, making outrageous statements as to his intentions regarding the current situation, seemingly in the hopes that we will forget about something else he's just done (or that one of his sons has just done) or is about to do, but never actually following through on said intentions (and quite often doing the direct opposite). If his methods weren't so predictable and borderline pathetic (and perhaps if he was not the key decision maker in our country), it would be laughable. Instead, it's just very, very depressing.

I suppose the question that we are all pondering now is not so much what happens today, but what happens tomorrow - the day after. Will the referendum pass and then be brought to a vote in the Knesset or will it fail and sink into oblivion? If it fails, will Mr. Sharon still try to bring it to a vote in the Knesset? If it fails, how will the Prime Minister try to save face? How will his actions affect the Likud party? Catch Israel's latest locally produced soap opera in a media outlet near you...

On another note...

Since we are less than 12 hours after Maccabi Tel Aviv's incredulous 44-point win over Skipper Bologna in the Euroleague Final Four Championship final game, I would be remiss if I didn't give the game at least a brief mention. To be honest, I had every intention of watching the game from start to finish, but I somehow slept on and off through quite a bit of it. Of course, it seems that Skipper Bologna did as well, given the lopsided final score. I did manage to catch part of the third quarter and all of the fourth quarter, and actually found myself feeling sorry for the Italians, as our boys in yellow and blue simply trounced them, making what seemed like every basket, including more three-pointers than I've ever seen in one game. It was truly amazing to watch. Derrick Sharp for Prime Minister, anyone? We are the champions, my friends...

Sirens and Barbecues...

2004-04-28T20:41:00.000+03:00

I cannot think of a moment during which I feel more proud to be an Israeli than when the sirens sound on Memorial Day for Israel's Fallen Soldiers. Year after year, siren after siren, I am awed by the thought of millions of Israelis standing together in silence as we collectively reflect on the sacrifices made by the young men and women who gave their lives trying to protect our country. No matter where we are, no matter what we are doing, we stop to remember. Workers stop working, pedestrians stop walking, drivers stop driving. Words simply cannot describe the rush of feelings at taking part in something so powerful.

Growing up in the United States, I cannot remember anything special about Memorial Day. For those whose lives had not been touched by the loss of a loved one, it was even a day to look forward to. A lazy three-day weekend, the unofficial start to Summer activities, outrageous sales in the shops. In short, nothing that expressed the true significance of the day. It was just another day off. In Israel, it is a day to reflect, a day to remember, and there is no escape. Places of entertainment are closed, all local channels dedicate their programming to the personal stories of the fallen, and you cannot help but to sit there, allowing yourself to be drawn in to the collapsed worlds of those left behind. Even the local children's channel shows age-appropriate programming, to show the children how other children have coped with the loss of a loved one. The radio stations also take part, putting aside all regular features, playing quiet, often haunting songs of loss. Public transport services are extended to ferry people to memorial ceremonies throughout the country, ensuring that the needs of the bereaved are met. You cannot help but feel that on this day, you are part of something special, no longer a country of individuals, but a nation made up of one family, mourning the losses of our brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, fathers and mothers together.

As the sun sets on Memorial Day, Israel once again proves itself to be a country of extremes. The flag is raised to its full height from half-mast and the somber mood of the past 24 hours becomes one of exhilaration, as Israel rushes headlong into Independence Day celebrations. We watch the traditional torchlighting ceremony broadcast from Jerusalem as fireworks fill the skies. Israel's towns and cities try to outdo each other with local festivities, and the streets are filled with the laughter of people playing and dancing, through all hours of the night. I've never been one for the crowds, and we happily sat outside, chatting with neighbors, barbecuing and racing around to different spots on our porch, looking for the best vantage points from which to catch the fireworks (while occasionally coming into the house to check on the poor dog, who is definitely not a fan of fireworks, and spends most of the evening hiding in either the bathtub or the shower, shaking like a leaf).

Independence Day itself is just one big, collective barbecue, as Israelis leave their homes at the crack of dawn in search of the perfect spot for cooking up enough meat to feed a small, third-world country for about a year. We drive up to my sister-in-law in Haifa, and once we enter the city, I look on in wonder at the people and the grills that take up every available blade of grass, whether it be in parks, along the side of the road, or even on some of the wider traffic islands. We drove with the windows open, and by the time we reached our destination, I felt like I'd already eaten, so strong were the smells of all the barbecues we passed along the way. No need to worry, though, I was certainly able to hold my own when the food came out, despite the fact that it was my second barbecue in less than 24 hours. The wonders of the pregnant woman's appetite...

Today, life has returned to normal, aside from the plate-full of leftover barbecued kebab in the fridge (I polished off the remaining vegetable skewers last night), which I suspect we will finish before the end of the week. Another Memorial Day and Independence day have come and gone and my patriotism and cynicism levels have returned to their pre-holiday levels, as I read about the 500 tons of garbage left behind after the entire country spent the day outside yesterday. It doesn't escape my notice that bringing up the topic of garbage would be an excellent segue to the subject of the trials and tribulations of our government, and especially the escapades and scandals of Ariel Sharon and his family, but frankly, I'm just too tired, and cannot summon up the energy that such a topic so richly deserves. Besides, my husband is in the kitchen doing something interesting with leftover barbecued kebab and a bunch of tomatoes...

Who wants to go for a ride in the car?

2004-04-25T17:34:00.000+03:00

Well, my blogger mentor over at Anglosaxy suggested this morning that I throw in some personal vignettes, and when I mentioned to him what we'd done over the weekend, he gave an enthusiastic endorsement that it should be the subject of my next entry.

So, here it goes...

I escaped from pregnancy house arrest yesterday, and we took a drive up to the Druze town of Daliat Il-Carmel with some friends. The streets were packed with Israeli Jews, taking advantage of the good weather to spend the day combining two of the activities that Israelis seem to enjoy the most - being outside on sunny days and shopping. Daliat Il-Carmel is known for its shopping, and given that we've spent the last three to four weeks fixing up our home, picking out some new knick-knacks seemed in order.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Druze, check out the following Website: http://www.geocities.com/Baja/Outback/9277/d1.htm. It provides a basic explanation of the Druze community in Israel. While their bloodline is Arab, the Druze religion differs from Islam. And, unlike other ethnic groups, they tend to not have national aspirations and are usually loyal to the country in which they live (the one exception I can think of being the Druze living on the Golan Heights, who are loyal to Syria). Many members of the Druze community volunteer to serve in the Israel Defense Forces, and a number have lost their lives in doing so. Clearly, many Israeli Jews do not see the Druze as Arabs, and the current Intifada does not seem to have had an impact on these sojourns into the Druze towns that dot the Galilee. The same cannot be said of the Israeli Arab and West Bank cities and towns that were bustling centers of commerce prior to the Intifada, when Israeli Jews would flock to these areas for bargains unheard of in the Israeli shops. With any luck, those times will return.

Anyway, back to Daliat Il-Carmel. Following an amazing meal at a restaurant on the main shopping street (if I could remember the name, I'd be sharing it here - the food was outstanding and the service was wonderful), we began to wander in and out of the shops lining the street. I was hoping to find some inexpensive, comfortable clothing that would help to get me and my ever-expanding stomach through the remainder of the pregnancy, and together, we were hoping to come up with some unusual pieces of artwork to hang on our freshly-painted walls. While the inexpensive maternity shirts remain decidedly elusive, I'm happy to say that luck was definitely on our side when it came to artwork. I won't bore you with the mundane details (though I will mention that the main reason why we didn't get a print for our bedroom wall was because I couldn't seem to make the saleswoman understand that I just wasn't interested in pictures with either a long-haired woman in some kind of backless nightgown and a "come hither" look, or pictures of a man and a woman together, having "slipped into something more comfortable" and flashing that same come hither look at each other...), but we managed to leave the shop with three large framed prints after my husband successfully bargained (as is the custom) 80 shekels off the total asking price.

Tired and poorer, we made our way back to the car and headed for home with our new treasures, which, I must say, look fabulous on our wall. I always enjoy such outings, especially these days, seeing as I rarely leave the house. Sadly, it's gotten to the point where, if my husband were to suddenly call out, "who wants to go for a ride in the car," I'm not sure who would show more excitement, me or the dog...

I Hear that Andromeda Hill is a Lovely Place to Live...

2004-04-22T18:58:00.000+03:00

So, after 18 years in prison, Mordechai Vanunu has been released. The events surrounding Israel's most famous prisoner border on the absurd. Let's look at the acts, shall we? Our fellow went to work at the nuclear power plant in Dimona, signing agreements promising not to play show and tell with regard to his new day job. Apparently, following a bit of conscience wrestling, the gentleman in question decided that he simply could not live up to his end of the agreement, and spilled some very impressive beans to a foreign newspaper, sharing Israel's naughty little secrets with the world.

Understandably, the powers that be felt anger with the traitor in their midst, and rightly so, I'd like to add. As I imagine most democratic nations would do in the same circumstances, they retrieved the rebel of the month from his travels in Europe, tried and convicted him.

During the course of his jail time, Mr Vanunu did not shown any regret for possibly compromising state security, and the decision to keep him disconnected from the outside world certainly seems justified. Israel-bashers everywhere have turned our friend Mordechai into a cause celebre, even going so far as to nominate him for a Nobel Peace Prize (which would have placed him in such esteemed company as that great fighter for peace, Yasser Arafat, but we'll leave him for another blog entry...). At some point during the incarceration, our chap converted to Christianity. By no means a crime, and certainly not disturbing in and of itself. People convert to different religions all the time, including a number of my friends. I've also got no problem with other religions, as my non-Jewish friends will tell you, having spent many a happy Christmas season back in the US helping my best friend and her family decorate their Christmas tree, and even going to Midnight Mass one year just to see what it was like (a very pleasant experience, though I politely declined the opportunity to "drink the wine and chew the wafer", as Tom Lehrer suggested in "The Vatican Rag"). But, back to our story at hand. Mordechai claims that he was persecuted in prison by the staff because of his religion. Nice sob story, but frankly, I'd be more inclined to believe that they just weren't too keen on our little traitor friend.

Fast forward 18 years, and Mordechai Vanunu is now a "free" man. Okay, maybe he's no longer in prison, but given all of the restrictions that have been placed on him (and rightly so), "free" is a term I use somewhat loosely. In the snippets of his post-release press conference that I've seen, our friend confides in us, sharing his dreams for the future (in English, as protest to the fact that he is not allowed access to foreigners). All poor Mordechai wants to do now is go to America, find a wife, and maybe teach and learn a little history. Of course, if he's ever allowed to leave Israel, I can't help but wonder what will become of his lovely new home in Jaffa's exclusive Andromeda Hill complex, allegedly obtained for him by those unbiased straight-shooters over at the BBC...

Intro...

2004-04-20T06:04:00.000+03:00

Welcome to the first posting for Lights in the Distance. If you're reading this, perhaps it's because you were intrigued by the name, or the fact that it's another perspective on life in a volatile part of the world, far from your own. Or maybe you were just bored, surfing the Net to kill time and avoid real life. In any event, since this is just an intro, I'm going to try to keep it short and simple.

First, a little bit about yours truly. I'm an American woman in my mid-30s, living in Israel (for nearly 13 years) with my Israeli husband and our 12 year-old dog (think Murray from the 90s sitcom "Mad About You"). I'm working as a technical communicator in the hi-tech industry, and have been working from home for the past four months due to a high-risk pregnancy. With any luck, I should be giving birth in just under two months' time. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to being released from doctor and husband-imposed "house arrest"...

I read an article in one of the local newspapers last Friday about native-English-speaking bloggers in Israel, and when I read that the overwhelming majority of them are right wing religious types (not that there's anything wrong with that - some of my good friends fall into this category), I decided on the spot to try to even the odds by offering a different perspective.

Well, if you stayed with me this long, you certainly deserve to know how I chose the name "Lights in the Distance". I get so mad when I hear about the people who try to deny the existence of the Palestinians as a people, because when I look out my windows or stand on my porch and look East, I can see the lights in the distance, the lights shining from the homes and towns of our Palestinian neighbors on the other side of the Green Line. It's so obvious to me that they exist as a fact on the ground just as we do. How can people deny it when I can see it with my own eyes?

You cannot deny the existence of a people simply because you wish that they weren't there, and both sides must realize this. We all deserve the right to live in dignity and in peace, and we owe it to our children to provide them with these basic rights that people in other parts of the world take for granted.

Anyway, I suppose that's enough (and some of you are probably saying more than enough) for a first post. It will be interesting to see if I've got the discipline to keep this going, as I love writing, but haven't managed to maintain any kind of a journal since my childhood, writing about such riveting subjects as the Sweathogs and Barry Manilow. Gotta love those 70s...