"You Can't Go Home Again..."

The title expression is that of a book by Thomas Wolfe, and is commonly used to mean that a person cannot go back to his childhood home and expect it to be the same, expect himself to relive his (or her) experiences and feelings; that time passes, and our childhood is gone forever .

I had just read an article in the Wall Street Journal about returning to one's childhood home, and I had never even thought to Google - sorry - to search for the apartment building where I grew up by using Google Maps until I read the article. So I did. Parts of the neighborhood are the same, but I didn't recognize the shops, nor the playground where I used to play as a little girl. When I was little, all playground equipment was made of metal: the swings, see-saws, monkey bars--which I loved to climb to the top, scaring my mother half to death--and the slides, which I used to call "sliding ponds." To this day, I don't know why (but then again, I also called pony-tails 'horses' tails, so...!)
What I saw on Google Maps was a brand-spanking new (or so it looked to me) polyethylene playground in beautiful colors of red, pink, yellow, blue, green. The playground was full of green trees and some grass, and benches. It was actually pretty; it looked so much more inviting than the one I remember: gray, metallic, with a gravelly ground which you dreaded falling on and skinning your knee, for the pain. Now, it is actually a pretty place:

Because everything is so different in my old neighborhood, I could probably get lost there; my old shul was apparently torn down (I read online that the buildings of both neighborhood shuls, one Orthodox and one Conservative, had been falling into disrepair over the years, and because renovation was so expensive it was deemed not worth it, and both buildings were sold, and subsequently razed.). But my old apartment building is still there, brick as solid as a rock. The steps going down into the courtyard are exactly the same.

Next time I'm in New York--I have no immediate plans, so who knows when that will be--I have to get up the courage to knock on my old door (apartment 3A), and explain to the current tenant why in heck I would want to have a little personal tour of his apartment. Which I'm sure will be so different that I won't even recognize it; it won't be my old place anymore.

When I went back to Israel in 2005 for my first visit since we had left in 1981, my sons and I (this is before they were married) drove to Gilo to try to find our old apartment, in the meduragim (stepped-houses). We actually found it, knocked on the door and asked permission to see it again. The owners were very nice, and allowed us to go in and walk around. I would not have recognized it--it was totally different, including the view (which was no more, it was all built up). They had removed the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, and it was a totally new kitchen (ours had been a beauty, a custom job done by an American friend of ours, long since passed away). It didn't feel like home, although my older son remembered the steps where he had fallen down at age 3 and split his face open. . .not one of our better memories, I'm afraid. Too many complicated feelings.

I guess Thomas Wolfe was right: You can't go home again...

The Chodesh Tov Edition of Haveil Havalim (# 256) is UP!

Go to Shiloh Musings or Me-ander to see the latest Chodesh Adar Tov edition of the weekly Jewish Blog Carnival, Haveil Havalim ("vanity of vanities").

And, since Adar ushers in the month of Purim and happiness, tarbu b'simcha while you're reading it!

משנכנס אדר מרבין בשמחה!!!

Another Jew comes Back to Tradition

Many non-Jews are converting to Judaism these days, as are Jews who are returning to their religious roots. I wrote about Yisrael Campbell (the former), here. An example of the latter is found in Moran Sabbah, who found her Judaism after beginning on a rock-star career (hat-tip Shoshana Z.)
As seen on Chabad.org, she writes:

I had a vision.

I was a fifteen-year-old holding an old Spanish acoustic guitar, as I strummed the chords. I closed my eyes and imagined myself performing on a grand stage. The crowd was cheering for me, as photographers snapped my pictures. I opened my eyes. "I'm going to be a rock star!" I knew this was my life's mission, and so, at the age of fifteen I embarked on my journey, never looking back.

What is interesting is that she continued her career after becoming frum,* albeit adjusting it to performing for women only. This way, she developed her G-d given talent and channeled it to conform with Torah values.


*frum: religious (Jewishly)

Honest Questions about Israel and Palestine

A man named Marcus Henderson Wilder who walked 600 miles through Spain at age 69, is apparently publishing a book on "Israel and Palestine." He asked honest questions about the region and its history, which he researched. Answers to some of these questions, called "Israel and Palestine Chapter One", are on his website.

I don't know what, if any, connection he has or has had with Israel, but he 'discovered' facts which the world at large does not recognize, in its vilification of and blame on Israel for the situation of the Arabs vis-a-vis the Jewish State. Seems that many more should read this when his book is published in April. Here is an excerpt:

Naked Data©

The 1844 census of Jerusalem found 7120 Jews...5760 Muslims...3390 Christians.

In 1869, Mark Twain wrote of the emptiness of the land, of traveling all day without seeing a human being on the roads or in the countryside.

Mark Twain wrote of Arab sloth and filth and flies.

In the 1880s, Americans forced Indians from their land to resettle Indian land with whites. Many Indians had to be killed.

In the 1880s, Australians forced Aborigines from their land to resettle Aborigine land with whites. Many Aborigines had to be killed.

In the 1880s, white New Zealanders forced Maoris from their land to resettle Maori land with whites. Many Maoris had to be killed.

In the 1880s, European Jews bought idle land in what is now Israel, joining Mizrahi Jews continuously there since Abraham.

Beginning in 1882, forty Jewish families settled at Rishon L'Tzion. Four hundred Arab families settled around them. Some of the Arab families were Bedouin. Some came from Egypt.

A British official reported Arabs sought employment, clean drinking water, better health care, and lower infant mortality. The official reported this pattern was repeated across areas where Jews settled.

In the 1890s, Belgians cut off the hands of Africans who did not gather enough rubber.

In the 1890s, Arabs flocked to Jewish areas of Palestine for jobs created by Jewish investment and enterprise.

After WWI, Britain tried to set up a Palestinian governing body of twelve...eight Arabs...two Christians...two Jews. Arabs said two Jews were too many. A cynic might say Arabs knew then two Jews outnumbered eight Arabs.

In 1917, the British Balfour Agreement promised a national home for Jews in Palestine. The British did not mean it.

Arabs turned down two-state solutions in 1917, 1937, 1948, and 2000.

After a Nazi supported Arab revolt in 1936-1939, British-backed Arab religious leader Husseini fled to Germany. Husseini is revered throughout Islam today.

In 1939, A British White Paper severely restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine.

After WWII, European Jews sought refuge in what is now Israel. The Arabist British did all they could to keep Jews out of Palestine. Under United Nations mandate, Jews established the State of Israel despite Arab objections and Britain perfidy.

In the United Nations document authorizing the formation of the state of Israel, an Arab/British/African clause weighted population numbers in favor of Arabs. In 1948, the Arab population was still largely transient. This clause identified any Arab who had been in Palestine for two years as a permanent resident.

Do we give casual Mexican labor citizenship after two years in the United States?

My Virtual Family

In addition to my three-dimensional family in my physical "real-life" world, I am grateful to find that I also almost have a "virtual family," my cyberspace blogosphere family.

My postings on my illness have brought out the good and kind in many people. I am thankful for all the well-wishes and blessings for refu'ah shelemeh (a complete recovery) and expressions of empathy from wonderful bloggers, who I am sure are also wonderful three-dimensional-people in "real-life."

Someday I hope to meet them, if not bloggers in the States (America's a big country), at least some of those bloggers living in Israel--when we make our 'second Aliyah'. . .eventually. . .

Afraid to Name the Enemy? Take it Away, Latma TV

I've written before about the U.S. being afraid to name its enemy, the enemy of the Free West: radical Islam, and none other. To reiterate, if we continue to do this, we will lose this war (G-d forbid).

Here's how LatmaTV (thank you Caroline Glick) views the American response to the Islamic Jihadist terrorist massacre at Ft. Hood.

America, take note, and act accordingly.

Shouting One Down: Better than Intelligent Questions?

In Judaism, we have a tradition of discussion and pilpul - where we question, analyze and answer - from Talmudic study to public debate. It is the civilized, intelligent way of learning for the purpose of arriving at the truth: discuss, challenge and refute.

Unfortunately, that is not the culture of the people who disrupted Michael Oren's talk at UC at Irvine (hat tip Atlas Shrugs). These "students" - I am assuming that they are students, and it is not certain if they are members of the Muslim Student Union - raucously interrupted his speech 10 times before walking out (escorted by campus security) in protest. By doing so, they accomplished nothing except preventing the Israeli Ambassador from speaking freely about U.S./Israel relations.

You'd think they would have first allowed him to speak and then asked questions? Of course not; that's too civilized (and might expose their false accusations and arguments). Better to shout him down to prove your point (which of course is the mature and intelligent way to do it.).

Haveil Havalim #255: Post-Groundhog Day Edition

The new Haveil Havalim, the weekly Jewish Blog Carnival, this week's number 255 "Post-Groundhog Day Edition" - is up at Simply Jews.

Go have a good read (so will I, over coffee and pain killers).

Trying to Keep Writing

I just finished reading various posts, some discussing Muslim attacks on Jewish students at York University, and politically correct jokes about Israel and the "peace process" (hat tip Rafi), to comments (on YouTube videos of Israel's excellent rescue efforts) deriding Israel for helping the Haitians with "money from America," and it's occured to me that we seem to be in the very, very early stages of the culture which led to the Shoah.

That is the culture where it is universally ok to blame Israel (definition: the Jews) for everything, and to use that blame as an excuse to incite to violence against Jews. One can see this 'acceptance' of such behavior in the Defense Dept. report on the Ft. Hood massacre.
If people continue to be afraid to name the enemy, or when they don't protest against violent Islamic culture because of a fear of antagonizing Muslims, our free society's future is doomed.

Being sick, I think I wrote a rather disjointed post; nor do I have much energy to sit on this low-back, non-ergonomic chair at my computer and post (if you need an excuse, my birthday is in December, if anyone feels like getting me a. . .laptop!), but on the other hand, there are so many things to write about, it hurts my brain just trying to sort out all the topics (I think I've been here before. . .)

I've been trying to read other blogs, at least, and comment on some, partially to let the blogosphere know that I haven't dropped off the face of the Earth; but now that I've posted on my own blog, I'm exhausted and just want to get back to bed.

Doubt that I'll post tomorrow, so--Shabbat Shalom to all.

Thank G-d for Family in a Crisis*

You know, with all our troubles, unemployment, illness, etc.--I still feel blessed, because I have family. Connecting with my children today by computer voip call and cellphone, helped me feel as if I have people I love rallying around me.

I have to admit, that I'm not a nice person when I'm sick. In fact, I become an honorary member of the criminally insane - contrast that with my D.H., who when sick is mamash a stoic (-may Hashem keep him healthy, amen ken yehi ratzon). He doesn't complain, he just tries to ride it out, quietly, and rest as much as possible. Me? I fly into a rage (if not a mini-depression); actually, I think illness brings out the histrionic in me. I become a melodramatic stage actress, in a really bad off-off Broadway play. Just ask my D. H., and he'll (secretly...or maybe not...) agree.

At any rate, talking to my Rambo, who is on vacation while her sister (who just came back last summer from four years in Israel, so they were pretty close) is visiting, to Toodles (the visiting sister), to Nathaniel Blumenstein and his older brother, Mister Arnold Mayergi (and his lovely wife Hardal), made me feel more secure.

And high praises go to my D. H., who, in addition to shuffling off three-quarters asleep in his PJs in the wee hours of the morning to research this awful disease which is Shingles on my computer at my bidding (I was too tired and in pain to do it), which ultimately helped us decide to go to Urgent Care, also ministered to me hand over foot, getting me tea, making me breakfast (hot oatmeal; cures what ails you), ordering me to rest--just caring. Thank you, D.H.

And thank you, Ribono shel Olam, for blessing me with my family.


*(what the heck am I posting for?? Nablopomo's over!!!)