23 April 2007

Thank G-d for Israel



It's not that I don't love the U.S. I do. But I don't love it in the same way.




It's now officially Yom HaAztmaut -- Israeli Independence Day.




In 1947, the U.N. voted to give us Jews our own state. And anyone who understands the U.N. and the world at large understands this was truly a miracle from Hashem.




And as if that wasn't a big enough miracle, He/She/It then saved us from what looked like annhilation as the British pulled out and the Arabs tried to kill as many of us as possible.




On the fifth day of the month of Iyar, the British officially handed over the keys to the house, and the Jews proclaimed the name of our new state to be "Israel."




Because this year Yom HaZikaron would have fallen right after Shabbat went out, the commemorations and celebrations were moved to the fifth and sixth of Iyar instead of the fourth and fifth... that means today is the day for celebrating the birth and existence of the State of Israel.




It's an incredible experience to go from a day of mourning to a day of celebration, but every year we do it.




Thank you, G-d, for helping us get back our Homeland.

22 April 2007

Yom HaZikaron - Memorial Day

Although I wanted to go to the Kotel for the ceremony, I didn't have time to get there. Instead, I dropped off my backpack at home, grabbed a water bottle, and headed for the municipality. There wasn't a ceremony there, so I turned around and headed back home.


I was at one of the most popular areas in Jerualem when the siren started.


Everything stopped... almost.


Busses stopped. Taxis stopped. People stopped where they were, even if they were in the middle of crossing the streets.


One taxi continued driving, and two Arabs walked past me while I stood in awe of the way Israel mourns its fallen.


Coffee shops are closed. Movie theatres are closed. There will be no bowling or hanging out in pubs tonight. On television will be shows and documentaries about soldiers and victims of terror who have died. There will be ceremonies all over the country tomorrow.


Tomorrow morning, the siren will sound for two minutes.


Tonight's was only one minute, but it seemed like one of the longest minutes of my life.


17 April 2007

Heroes and martyrs

Yesterday was the day that the State of Israel commemorated the heroes and martyrs from the Shoah.

One of the things we do is stop and stand silently for two minutes while sirens sound nationwide.

It's bizarre.

I was at work, speaking to a colleague, but keeping an eye on the clock. About 15 seconds before the siren started, my colleague stood. I opened the window, just to be sure we'd hear the siren. As it began, the six people in my office just stopped in the middle of what we were doing and stood up.

The siren isn't an even sound. It goes up and down, and seems like endless wailing for the two minutes it lasts.

And then, as quickly as we'd stood, we all sat back down at the end.

We didn't immediately return to what we'd been doing. It was quiet for a while, as we all continued to think about the Shoah and what it meant to us.

Eventually, we went back to work.

I didn't find out until after Yom HaShoah was over that an Israeli Shoah survivor in the United States blocked the doorway of his classroom so the gunman couldn't get in while the students escaped through the windows.

Liviu Librescu, of blessed memory, was a hero.

15 April 2007

Bearing Witness

Today is the day of rememberence for victims of the Shoah (Holocaust), as well as the heroes who rose up to fight.


05 April 2007

Kitniyot, a guy named Shelton, and a tumble

Kitniyot:

Houston, it's a go on the kitniyot.

I'm still not sure about rice, but when it comes to legumes, I've decided I'm eating them. It's a combination of things that worked toward that decision, but the biggest part of it was that in my heart, it's more important to grow toward a unified Am Yisrael (people of Israel) than it is to hold on to a tradition that even people who keep it agree is pretty dumb.

A guy named Shelton:

Shelton Kang was a neat man who was diagnosed with congestive heart failure in 2002, lost his wife in 2003, and yet kept such amazingly high spirits that most people who had any sort of contact with him -- even through the Internet -- will remember him as someone who lifted spirits.

I knew Shelton only through his posts on the mailing lists, and through posts by his sister, Harriet. Harriet actually stayed with me when she was in Israel a couple of years ago, although I'd originally met her at the Phoenix half marathon in 2004.

Shelton and Harriet were supposed to go on vacation together about a week or so ago... but as they were preparing, Shelton went into cardiac arrest and died.

At the moment, I'm remembering his ability to see the positive in almost any situation... his talent for making people feel better... and his perseverance, despite his illness.

A tumble:

Today, long story short, I took a short trip on my way into work. It was a trip of about a foot or two, during which time the inside of my pant leg accumulated most of the skin from my right knee, and the sidewalk took the skin from my right hand. Both my knees are swollen, and the raw skin burns... but thank G-d nothing's broken, and I'm sure I'll heal within a few days.

It'll be frustrating to not be able to exercise like I've been lately, but I'll do some alternative exercise of some sort instead.

And if I start to get lazy and think about how I don't feel like exercising, I'm going to remind myself of Shelton.