4 months progress

A few weeks ago the kids stopped saying their heart-breaking "When we go back to America" sentences:
"When we go back, can we live in the same town we used to live?"
"When we go back, can we go to the same school?"

They are doing well and feeling much more confident in school, and finally are able to navigate through the not-so-consistent class schedule and homework assignments. New for us all - homework, exam schedule and all the updates are posted on a school website for which each kid has a login. It took a few months for our 8-year-old to figure out how it all works and now she finally feels secure and proudly independent.

We can spot some buds of close friendships that kids begin to develop here, but the nostalgia for their friends and life that they had left in the US is still strong and painful.  It seems that the older the child the more difficult it is to penetrate the already established circle of friendships at school because class lists are kept the same from year to year.  The older the child, the more of a language depth and common experiences he needs to establish strong friendships.  In Boston, so much of the boy activities centered around playing or talking about sports - Patriots, Celtics, Red Sox.  The language of sport is rather different here.

A major source of happiness for the kids was discovery of  American-style bagels, Philadelphia cream cheese and Wacky Mac&Cheese in a local supermarket.  Now the kids miss only their US friends.

While our parents visited us in the US yearly, the kids never had strong connections with them because of the short visit time, impatience in overcoming the language barrier and busy schedules. Now, partially due to the lack of local friends and partially due to kids' growing confidence in Hebrew, the grandparents and the kids are re-discover each other. First time I see our kids voluntarily call their grandparents and request their visits. The kids genially enjoy grandparents' company - playing games, talking, traveling, eating together.  And from the grandparents side it is no longer just hugs and kisses (from the Sephardic side of the family) and critique of kids manners and behavior (from the Ashkenazi, Russian, side) that we witnessed during their US visits; there is a real connection and understanding of kids' worlds.

I fill silly to admit that I was and am no longer alarmed by every ambulance siren and do not rush to check the news asap, imagining a terrorist attack somewhere nearby.  I am finally ready to explore a crowded open street market or a shopping mall without major safety hesitations. Here is a savory meal that I split with my sister-in-law at a Turkish cafe in a vibrant Carmel Market.

We enjoy daily sunshine, warmth and colorful year-around blossoms. In the last months in our Boston suburb, waking up in a quiet of a morning with birds chirping, I thought that we will never be able to enjoy the same in Israel.  It is true that the central part of Israel is much more crowded and you are more likely to hear your neighbors' whereabouts than birds' songs. But here we are, in Tel Aviv, waking up with a bird chirping and the birds are no less beautiful than in Boston.

New baby: here vs there

Baby-girl Nili was born on November 2nd in the Ihilov Hospital in TelAviv, a few days ahead of the scheduled C-section.

First, there was her name selection, and it was not easy. Feeling loyal to all the cultures and languages we come from and speak, we wanted a Hebrew name that sounds pleasant in English and Russian. Moshe and the kids insisted on the name to start with "N" like Naor and Nadia. Kids didn't want the name to remind them of anyone they don't like. Grandparents had to approve the name. And with a short last name like ours we needed the first name to have at least two syllables. The beautiful Hebrew name "Noga" was out of the question because Noga with emphasis on "a" means a leg in Russian. Another name we really liked - Naomi - was ruled out as it is pronounced with a different emphasis in English and Hebrew and we decided to spare the correction work from our daughter. You see, it is miracle we came up with a name at all and managed to maintain peace in the family.

Second, there was delivery. Ihilov hospital is one of the largest hospitals in Israel, it does 11,000 births each year. Exactly like with our American-born kids, Nili decided to break the waters a few days of the scheduled C-section. The admittance and surgery went quite similarly to the US hospitals. However, the majority of the doctors were men while in the Brigham and Mt Auburn hospitals in Boston they were women. I felt like a raw chicken spread on a small cutting board. The only thing that kept my dignity was the professional pedicure and manicure that I managed to squeeze the day before.

The baby was doing great and well-taken care off. But my post-operation recovery was difficult. While in the US we got spoiled with a private patient rooms featuring big bed for the patient, convertible chair-couch for the partner, flat screen TV on the wall, food service delivered to your bed, nurses and doctors visiting every few hours and over-medication for pain, Israeli hospital offered nothing close. A few hours after the surgery I was wheeled into a tiny room that already had two miserable patients. When Moshe complained, nurse offered to place my bed in the hallway. The room didn't have any place to bring baby bassinet so I couldn't see our daughter before I could walk all the way to the newborn room (15 hours after the surgery). I had to take some medicine with the food but had nowhere to place a plate of food other than on my freshly sewed belly. Moshe ended up going to work because while I was under morphine and happy with anything, he was awake for over 30 hours, exhausted, angry and only had two-by-two foot of space to stand next to me while other patients squeezed by in the universally terrible flower gowns.


Looking back at the whole hospital experience I realize that in Israel the whole birth recovery is centered only around a child while in the US it is a mom and a child. An obstetrician in the hospital told me that in Israel we do not treat childbirth as a sickness and therefore do not wrap moms with as much care as the newborns that are still unprepared for this life. I wonder if she knew that US insurance companies indeed classify childbirth as a long-term disability.

The kids are all right, the moms are not. Newborns get brand names: Pumpers and Huggies diapers, wipes and Dr Fisher creams while moms are offered only the cheapest pads. And moms are the ones who bleed. Baby nurses are patient, polite and cheerful. Moms' nurses are tired, angry and rough. On the 3rd day my daughter asked to look at my C-section cut and we were both shocked to realize that I have staples. How come no one mentioned this to me before?

It seems that in the US there is a trend toward overmedication for the mom. I was advised to take Percocet and, if I recollect well, up to 4 Tyleonols every 4 hours. Doctor explained to me that recovery after a C-section is difficult and I should use painkillers to make myself comfortable so that I can concentrate on the baby and breastfeeding. In Israel doctors refused to give me Percocet and anything stronger than 1 gram of Optalgin, for which I had to walk all the way to the nursery and beg for every 4 hours. By the way, Optalgin, which is so popular here, is apparently not approved by the FDA due to some potential side-effects.

Throughout my stay in the Ihilov hospital I felt that I am under-performing according to doctors and nurses expectations: feeling weak, not recovering fast enough, complaining about the pain, forgetting to clean the cut. Not tough enough for this culture. Post-surgery time is never easy, but somehow in the US I was treated as a super star that accomplished something - created a new life and deserve a good rest, assistance in walking, bathing, food delivered to the bed and medical care. This whole experience reminded me of the opinion my daughter offers when someone asks her to compare school in Israel to the schools in the US. She answers: "In the US we were treated as kids. Here they treat us like adults - the tone of voice, the demands, the language." Perhaps we were spoiled in the US and here Israeli reality managed to create tougher human beings who in childhood do not cry in response to a strict teacher's voice and as adults can dismiss the pain even in a weak and sleepless state.

Lastly, there was a sweet homecoming. Baby Nili got 3 pages worth of instructions on how to be taken care of, I got 3 lines. No instructions on when I can drive, have sex, exercise, stop bleeding, expect to be done with the pain. But we were finally home, surrounded by love and support of our families and friends. Kids made fliers and inflated balloons, the house was full of flowers and presents. Naor was the first to announce on the internet that he got a cute little sister. He also surprised us by voluntarily  lowering the volume of a football game when Nili was in his lap. Nadia told me: "Mommy, thank you for making something so beautiful." However, both of them also complained that their lives got more hectic with the new creature, all her equipment and grandparents in the house.


My mom did come to help us in the US for a few weeks when each of the older kids was born, but now it was very different. We were wrapped in family help from all the sides. Grandmothers brought us loads of food and help with laundry; relatives took turn driving Naor to swim practices while I still couldn't drive; my father moved to stay with us and cuddles Nili while I am catching up on sleep or trying to keep up with all the errands; he built us a co-sleeper and taught us all funny card games that we all play into the night laughing so hard that my staples almost burst. There is always someone who takes kids to school and picks them up. There are piles of baby clothes and baby equipment from our siblings, and advices on how to clean her tush and eyes, whether I should take some Iron supplement or chicken liver. We are happy and relaxed. We are at home.

Immigration Bureaucracy

The truth is that we would not be living in Israel now if not for my brother-in-law. We would have likely given up back in May after a few frustrating calls to the ministry of absorption, internal affairs or education. Everyone was very polite and understanding but no one was able to give definite answers to our questions. As much as we tried we couldn't sign the kids to schools in advance, left with a risk that a 39 student class in the neighborhood school may be filled (to 40) and we would need to drive one of the kids to a different school. Even with a universal and free medical insurance policy in Israel we could not get any assurance that on the 7th months of pregnancy I will be eligible to medical insurance as soon as I stepped down from the plane. We were getting brief refusals (rejected the status of Returning Citizen) without any explanation. Phone calls to ElAl, which was supposed to proudly bring us back home on a discounted rate, were stuck after a few selections leading to a dead line.

Imagine doing this while still working full time, trying to sell the house, finding a place to live in Israel, managing kids' school and activities, possibly looking for a job here, planning to ship your all posessions - and you may very well give up right at that moment. Life is good enough in Boston. Why fight through such resistance? We were angry, disappointed, exhausted and we almost gave up. But it was spring - the season of high hopes and endeavor, plus we had a guarding angel with a sword.

My husband's brother has been through such immigration process with his family a few years ago returning from a dream-like Central park apartment back to Israel. He is also a lawyer by training and unlike us is very verse in understanding and interpreting the law, using his wit to get to people in high places and persuading them to help him. He has been calling us daily well aware of the fragile nature of the process and guiding us through the confusing maze of the steps. I should admit that even with his enormous help almost nothing has been accomplished before we arrived but at least we got to learn why and prepare an itemized plan of action set in place as soon as we stepped in Israel.

When we arrived my brother-in-law took a week off and patiently drove us daily to tens of various offices: social security, ministry of internal affairs, ministry of education, medical insurance agency, luggage taxation, bank where we slowly managed to put our life back in place. He taught us where and how to park (a crucial survival skill in Tel Aviv) and where to grab a bite in-between to remind ourselves why we really came to live here.

Three months into the adventure and we are almost there. We learn to know our rights, to demand and to follow up after every fax or phone conversation. We also learn to be patient because the year is really just starting now, after the long holidays. Half of our kids' teachers still have no clue that they have some alien creatures in their class for whom Hebrew is not a native tongue. But as soon as we take it upon ourselves and tell them, they hug the kids, share their home phone and promise that everything will be all right.

And while such "all right" promises made me really angry in the US - I wanted to know when exactly, how and at what price it will be all right - we learned to live with it here.  Because things do work out at the end, somehow... Not in a straight and structured way of law we used to in the US, but through the help of caring, welcoming and passionate people. 

High holidays with the family: the best of it, the worst of it, plus the food.

Proximity to the family has always been a big source of discussion for all the Israelis in the US who, like us, found themselves bringing up their kids half way across the world from the rest of their relatives. The arguments were:

• Kids need a family to be loved by.  They also need someone (other than webkinz)  to reciprocate with affection and care.  The larger this circle of love and support is, the more comfort and confidence it gives our kids. However, this love is also expressed through the smoochy lipsticky kisses from your aunt and you being called strange chicken names like"Kapara sheli."
• Who are we going to invite to our son's Bar Mitzvah? Not enough relatives in the US, too many relatives in Israel.
• Parents are getting older and it is so difficult to advise, support and help them from across the ocean.  On the other hand we can provide them with a secondary medical opinion and some material support from the US.
• Israel offers a plenitude of family babysitters. Chess or biking with grandpa is priceless. But don't be surprised that your kids have learned a song from grandma about teacher's underwear by the morning. Or that your mom told your son that boys don't cry.
• Need help moving furniture? If this would be in Israel I could call my brother, brother-in-law or my uncle.  Whom can I call here on a spur of the moment? At the same time, no favors taken means no favors returned.
• You are used to getting family phone calls once-a-week, in Israel everyone will be calling you daily.
• Your weekends, they belong to you in the US. In Israel, they are shorter and they belong to your extended family.

All these short previews we played in our heads turned into realistic melodramas since we arrived to Israel.  However, while in the dark cold night in Boston we were focusing on the worst of it, waking up in sweat, terrified of the consequences of the decision we made, the reality turned out to be much more pleasant and manageable. Kids really enjoy seeing grandparents on a weekly basis. A grandma stopping by for lunch (and bringing delicious food with her!), grandpa coming to babysit anytime we need to go out, grandma playing the tooth fairy, another grandpa on call with any Tanakh questions. While our kids' social life here are still fragile, the friendship and care of the family pad them with enough self-confidence to be very happy.


There are of course challenges. During the holidays we are laughed at when we are trying to explain that seeing the family day after day is too much for everyone. I go berserk observing the typical Middle Eastern table chauvinism with women cooking, serving men and cleaning the dishes off the table and trying my best to make sure our kids do not absorb it.  My Sephardic mother-in-law is reprimanding me for not folding my husband's clothes in his closet, while my Ashkenazi mother is openly showing her surprise that my husband's academic position does not come with car benefits like management positions in the industry. Taking this all with a sense of humor and some understanding helps us stay calm.


To our surprise, we are enjoying time with the family much more than we anticipated.  While we have been concentrating on the benefits it can bring our kids, we completely forgot how much calm, happiness and sense of purpose it can bring to us and our relatives. 


Binding all the family gatherings is of course food. Large potluck meals with 2-3-4 tables assembled in a row. When our 16 piece Crate&Barrel plate set is not enough.  When everyone brings large bags with homemade bread, salads, quiches, chicken, meat, fish, hummus or desserts and everyone takes someone else's dishes left-overs for the day after.  These are meals that tell family stories. Here are some dishes from our Sukkot gathering:


Moroccan soup (Chrira - Silk) from my sister-in-law


1 kg beef meat 
3-4 bones
1 cup brown peas
1 cup hummus beans from the can (or dried hummus that have been put in water overnight)
2 cups of fresh tomatoes crashed in blender
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup lemon juice
4 liter water
1 cup noodles
1 head celery
1 bunch of parsley
1 bunch cilantro
3 onions, diced and fried
1.5 teaspoons black pepper
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
salt


Dry and clean canned hummus beans from any transparent shell.
Add meat, bones, peas and water and boil for 2 hours on a medium fire.
Meanwhile dice and fry onions.
After 2 hours add onions, celery, cilantro and the rest of ingredients into the soup and boil for additional 30 mins
5 min before the soup is done, add noodles and flour mixed with 1/2 cup of water.


Delicious eggs stuffed with mushrooms from my mom's collection (Russians love mushrooms and know how to pick them and cook them)


10-12 eggs. To my surprise eggs are sold in dozens in Israel despite the use of the metric system.
400 gram of any mushrooms,
2 large onions
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 teaspoons sugar


boil hard eggs and remove the shell
cut each egg in two halves, removing egg yolk into a large salad bowl
mush all the egg yolks in the bowl
dice and fry onions and add to the yolks
cut mushrooms into small pieces and fry, adding soy sauce and sugar when they start to brown
add mushrooms to the yolks
mix all the ingredients in the bowl, adding mayo
place all the egg white halves on the flat plate
make little balls from the mix in the bowl and fill the yolk holes in the whites
refrigerate, take out of the fridge an hour before serving




Colorful salad from my dear Bostonian friend Julia (kids friendly - they are always happy to help make it and gladly eat it)


use equal volume of hard  boiled eggs, radishes and cucumbers
cut them all in equal size small pieces
add salt and mayo
serve in a transparent bowl to enjoy the purple-green-white-and yellow mix


Chicken in Cola sauce from our Israeli friend in Boston - Amit Milshtein

Fry onions (cut to rings) in a little vegetable oil.(2-3 onions)

Add soy sauce to the browning onions (half a cup)

Add thinly sliced garlic cloves (the more the better)

Throw in some boneless skinless chicken thighs 

Add coke (half to full cup).

Add some chili powder and black pepper.

Close the pot and let cook for 30 minutes.

You could also add some dry plums with the chicken, if you like it.

This can also be cooked in the oven, if you just throw all the above ingredients in a bowl, mix and let them marinate for an ghour in the refrigerator, then throw them all in a baking pan, cover with aluminum foil and cook for one hour. At the end remove the alum foil and let it get a little crispy on top.

Salmon with Maple Glaze (a Gourmet recipe. Remember there used to be such an amazing food magazine...)


Need: 1 large salmon

glaze:
1/2 cup maple syrop
1 tablespoon ginger
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1.2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon minced garlic

scallions or parceley for decoration

In a small heavy saucepan simmer all the glaze ingredients for about 20 mins and let cool.

Clean salmon, cut into slices, salt, and put in a lightly-oiled shallow pan for broiling. Broil in the stove or grill without the sauce till salmon looks ready and no longer rare in the middle. Put a teasppon of sauce on top of each salmon piece and decorate with scallions when serving. Serve the remainder of the sauce aside so people can pour more on the plate.

White in October and some rules of Israeli etiquette that we learned

Nights are becoming cooler but midday is still hot and humid. To us it is a continuation of a long summer and I enjoy wearing white weeks after Labor Day. (It is an American tradition to wear white shoes and clothes only during summer crowned between the Memorial and Labor Days)  But October here is so warm and clean that white reflective linen, cotton and silk are still the most comfortable materials.  Unlike me, some fashionable locals are already using this small drop in the temperatures (around 80 F now) to switch sandals to high ankle boots.

Mediterranean sea here is a privilege. It is so pleasantly and surprisingly warm (after Atlantic and Pacific oceans), beaches are clean, sandy and shallow. However waves are always dangerously high allowing for dipping, jumping, surfing, boogie-boarding but not swimming. We are lucky to live just 10 mins away but given that the country is narrowly stretched along the sea, you can get to the beach in 1 hour from almost any location. We still fantasize about the beach more than we go there. Routine daily life is expectantly hectic and most of the Israelis have to challenge themselves to get to the beaches more often.

Kids are finally happily go to and from school yet still think and talk about their American friends more than about their local buddies. Just today Naor mentioned that if we end up going back to the US, he would like us to live in the Boston area. Nadia attended her first class birthday party, after a lot of encouragement. She really enjoyed it and we all learned a few rules of Israeli etiquette:

1. Everyone was invited and everyone came (30 or 40 kids!) No RSVP was required.
2. Party was on a school day, at 5pm, in the park. Almost everyone showered and changed from the school uniform to a fancy clothing. We didn't...
3. There was a store-ordered pizza and home-made chocolate cake. You heard it: home-made! I love home-made cakes and cupcakes and we usually made them in the US for small home birthday parties but I do not recollect any large scale event for 20+ kids or adults than didn't have store-bought sheet cake with a disgusting colorful frosting. I should start practicing making chocolate cakes for my kids' birthdays in April.
4. Another surprise: no goody bags.

We invited a family from Naor's class for Friday night dinner and at the end of the dinner, after a few beers, the father admitted that he realized we spend a lot of time abroad when the dinner invitation arrived via email two weeks in advance (instead of a casual phone call or instant message a day before) and the invitation was for Friday night - time customary set aside for family gatherings. Saturday lunch or dinner turns out to be more appropriate for non-family friends.

Kids acclimation, step-by-step. Not so easy.

Nadia to me: "Mommy, I think Israel is not for us."
She is implying that we should wrap up this experiment and return back to Boston. She has had hard time in the past two weeks, refusing to go to school, crying at separation, missing her US friends. Her teacher and the school director are very understanding and wrap her in love and attention during the meltdowns. She has a good class and supportive friends who sincerely care for her. Still, she clearly doesn't feel comfortable at the school yet.

Naor had recently snapped at her making us realize that she has been coming to him for consolation during class breaks in these first two weeks of school. Both of them had not mentioned this up until now and it makes us simultaneously happy of their connection yet sad that she suffers. We are surprised that it is especially hard for Nadia because she has a strong character and a friendly nature. She has started a full day daycare at the age of 15 months with a big smile and has been surrounded by friends ever since.

Now, the fast school pace and the excessive noise seem to take her out of this natural equilibrium. However, we believe that it is slowly getings better day after day. It seems that her will is taking control. Following the advice of her teacher, she has cut the school good bye to minimum sending me home as soon as she crosses the class door. She joined the school choir, yet is not always keen on going. A few days ago she surprised us with a set of masterful drawing (something that neither of our kids have been interested or good at before). We realize that this is a quiet escape for her during the hectic school breaks but trust that she will find a golden middle between being alone and playing with the friends.

We love the school yet there seems to be some lack of order that we used to in the US. Three weeks into a school year and one week before the holidays we still have not received the school-year calendar. The daily schedule has been changing in the first two weeks leading to the kids' confusion. There is a school website with forums for parent-teacher-kids communication and latest changes are usually posted there along with the homework but you have to login and check for this updates daily. There are ten various textbooks and same amount of workbooks as well as numerous folders that should be brought to school when the corresponding class is on. Confusingly some tex books are named differently than their subjects making it almost impossible to understand what needs to be packed daily. It seems to be specially hard for newcomers like us, although both kids mention that quite a few of their 11 year old and 8 year classmates cried in frustration during the first weeks.

Naor is much less sharing about his feelings. He seems to have found the way to be one of 'them' yet staying a careful outside observer. During recess he joins in on popular local games - POWs (שבויימ) and dodgeball (מחניימ). After school he admits to being occasionally overwhelmed and seeks solitude in his room.

There is something suspiciously surprising that we didn't have in our private elementary school in the US. Auditions! There is a school choir and a school dance troupe that are free yet require an entrance test. Never before have our kids been told that they can't be in because they lack the talent. Nadia got accepted to choir but not to the dance troupe. Naor didn't care to try.

Serendipitously I stumbled upon an interesting and relevant video on the New York Times website. A family of Times journalist from Brooklyn, NY, spent 5 years in Moscow, Russia, sending their three American kids to a Russian-speaking private school. The 10-minute clip shows the hard adaptation process of each of the kids, highlights the cultural differences between the schools, the friendships that kids made and the strength that they gained from this amazing experience. I shared this video with both of my kids and to my surprise each fascinatingly watched the video till the very end, remarking on the resemblance of this kids' experience to ours. The link to this video.

I am so fortunate to stay home for now, to have luxury of time and patience to observe and guide our kids through this school adjustment process. However, kids realization that I am watching over them undoubtedly makes them more fragile and dependent. Our bonus for now is that both kids enjoy spending time with us much more than before. Probably for not too long..

Ehud Banai in Jaffa

There is a magical spell in the Israeli music.  It is either the Mizrahi (middle-eastern) motif swirls, or the simple and naive words about the future, love and understanding sang in this fragile land - but you feel it in your heart. When I first came to Israel in 1991, Galei Zahal (Israeli Army Radio) was my window from the four-bedroom apartment shared by seven new immigrants of various ages and distant relationships into the world of young and confident Israelis. I fell in love with the songs of Izhar Ashdod, Haverim shel Natasha, and Yehuda Policker.

We kept listening to these songs in LA and Boston, discovering new albums and artists on every visit to Israel, trying to recreate the sacred feeling of Iom Shishi (Friday) through Israeli newspaper and music. Together they served as a poison and anti-poison, with the newspapers usually being disturbing and  infuriating, while the music healing and nostalgic.

Moshe had always adored Ehud Banai and a few years ago bought two tickets for us to attend his concert in Boston.  A strong storm on that day dumped seven feet of snow, cancelling schools, altering traffic and job schedules.  Our babysitter called to cancel, afraid to drive on the slippery icy roads after the storm.  We were quite certain that the concert will not take place but the organizers insisted that Banai and his band are coming from NYC by bus.  Moshe went with a few of our friends, navigating his 4-wheel drive through the frozen Narnia land.  Banai and his group ended up arriving two hours late. They reciprocated by playing for three straight hours and the auditorium cheered by joining in, dancing and standing ovations.

Through their songs, Ehud Banai, Arkadi Duchin, Aya Korem, Nehama Sisters and others, brought us here. They may very well be the reason why thousands of Israelis living abroad always hope to go back one day, they are the best and most honest PR Israel has.

Now, our first outing back here is a concert of Ehud Banai in the Gesher theater in old Jaffa. Illuminated palm trees, cobblestone plaza and evening humidity seems to be a surrealistic alternative to Boston's snow. A Sepharadic rocker, singing inside a Russian theater, located in a mostly Arab town. Despite the biting price of the tickets the theater is packed. As soon as the songs come up we feel at home. 

One of my favorite songs "I will bring you" ("אביא לך")

Our First Week of School

Naor's wildest dream came true: his teacher drives to work on a motorcycle.  Here is a story of a cool Jewish mother that stops at nothing for her kids. She has two grown up kids and four vehicles at home. When her son finished the army and started working in Haifa while studying in Tel Aviv, she didn't want him to endanger himself riding his motorcycle long distance. So, she gave him her car, got a motorcycle license this summer and is now riding to school daily.

Nadia's teacher used to be a documentary movie producer. Now she is providing wonderful citations from Henry Ford and Cat in the Hat in every parent newsletter.

Both teachers gave the kids and us their emails and cell phone numbers, encouraging to call with any questions.

Naor has spent the last two weeks before school driving us and himself crazy from his loneliness. I couldn't schedule any playdates with the kids from his new class because everyone seemed to be on vacation. Then, in one day everything changed. He met with his teacher who invited along three kids from his class. After this he walked to their home and had a long playdate with two of them.  Arrived home in the afternoon only to tell us that he is going to a class party at some Frozen Yougurt place in the evening and someone is coming to pick him up.  Terrified from this sudden independence, Moshe rushed to set up a cell phone for Naor.

The kids do complain that it is too noisy in the class.
Unable to hear the homework explanation, Nadia just copies the homework assignment letter by letter from the board. Occasionally, we have to call her friend or teacher to figure out what it all means. Moshe mused that she should take a photo camera to school and do a snapshot of the board with the list of homework.

There is no nurse at school. This may be the biggest shock for our kids who are used to coming and socializing with their school nurses almost daily. Sometimes it is a real fever, sometimes a scratch, a belly ache or a bad mood. In fact, on the very first day when Naor was at school in the US, his nurse called me:
"Is it true that your child likes coming to the nurse's office?"
I was surprised: "Did the other school's nurse told you? This is just the first day."
"No, but I know the type. He has been here twice already today. A very nice boy."

They loved nurses and nurses loved them, giving them a nice white bed to lie on and confess and a box of apple juice that cured any ailment. Now, absence of such psychologist in their new school may turn to better or worse. Hopefully, it will make them stronger and reduce the minuscule complaints.

The fact that kids have a lot of school books (instead of the printed handouts given in their US school) turned out to have some consequences: their bags are very heavy. For now, they pull 5 kg / 11 lb back and forth daily. The teachers do offer to leave books at school but as experienced parents advice me, this usually leads to forgetting to bring home something essential for the homework or exam preparation.

The world is small! At the afterschool activities fair we recognized a couple from the past - Newton, Gan Yeladim. Our older kids went together to kindergarten 6 years ago. Now we are neighbors. Typically for Israel, they have 4 kids now while we are just catching up with the 3rd.

Nadia was not happy with her seat assignment in the class. "I sit next to a boy who makes fun of me and my table is far back in the class." But then it turned out that she occupies exactly the same seat as I did (back in Russia) in the 80th. That completely changed her attitude. I think we may be in trouble when kids need to rotate their seats in a few months.

School offers a number of the after-school activities on the premises. I was told that it is important for the newcomer kids to participate in the popular activities to help socialize with the classmates. This sure is true - I saw three girls practicing their splits for the Jazz club before the school bell.

The kids told me that a few grades have their classrooms in a bomb shelter - there was no other building to expand into. Bomb shelters here are not underground as we used to have in Russian schools, but rather reinforced concrete structures with only one hermetic door. I am sure it is strange to study in the classroom without windows, however I recollect that the most exciting work arrangements I ever had were old army hangars (low ceiling, no windows) that my Special Effects company, Boss Film Studios, occupied.

Homework is minimal so far, however on some days I have to sit hours with Nadia studying Gematria. Being The Math Mom, I thought myself an expert in different fields of math. But here came Gematria... According to Wikipedia, it is a system of assigning numerical value to a word or phrase, in the belief that words or phrases with identical numerical values bear some relation to each other. In Nadia's 3rd grade it is presented as a coding system where every letter of the Hebrew alphabet represents a number. Words are sums of the numbers of the letters.


Peculiarly, the following equation holds is gematria:
child = father + mother
אמ + אב = ילד
44 = 3 + 41

March of the Millions

Last night we decided to join the March of the Million demonstration in Tel Aviv, and pulled the kids along with us. While we have been settling down, fighting to get the internet and color on the TV, the country has been drumming social revolution. It is about the time we join because the reasons seem right. We slowly get a taste of the high cost of living. Most of the goods and service prices are same or higher than in the US while after-tax salaries are at least 50% lower. This all is while country's economy is blooming.  (See full chart of the cost of living comparison, Boston vs Tel Aviv)

March of Millions gathered hundreds of thousands (Israel's population is 7.5 million).  Cell phone companies tracking attendance reported around 300,000 people marching in Tel Aviv alone. It was an exciting, safe, peaceful, and polite demonstration of people who are very angry with their government. No windows were broken and no one beaten or injured.  On opposite, like in the Disney movies, a beautiful hot air lantern and hundreds of colorful balloons were released in the air above the plaza. It seems that in this resentment of government policies the country was united - there were kids in baby carriers, strollers, young people, old people; jews and arabs; people speaking Hebrew, English and Russian. 

This guy is holding a Captain Hook figure, masterfully crafted from balloons, with a sign: 

"The country is stealing even from me" while the Prada ad is winking in the background.

This Jesus-looking gentelman on the light pole holds a very poignant sign:

 "Growth for the sake of growth is policy fit for cancer." 

Yes, people were singing and dancing.

Our kids were in awe and despite the exhaustion we were so happy that they got a chance to see these young energetic nice Tel Avivians, and realize the power of people to influence the authority.

Week #4

This week brought many amusing experiences.

First of all - I finally found an obstetrician/genecologist that can see me without a very advance reservation (I am now at the 7th months of pregnancy). Through the slit of the door we saw an athletic bold man in his 40th with two earrings in his left ear, jeans and a button-down shirt tucked into a fashionable belt. In the office I noticed a miniature motorcycle model that was holding business cards on his desk. This very much reminded me of Adam Gopnik's description of their ob/gyn encounter in Paris in his great book "Paris to the moon." Unlike the French doctor in the book, my doctor didn't ask me about the day of conception and his shirt was not half way open revealing a burst of black hair. But my doctor relaxingly rested his hand on my thigh while performing external ultrasound that struck me as very non-American behavior. My Cambridge ob/gyn also liked earrings but she was a woman, always wore long white robes and was very careful to wear gloves and apologize every time she touched my body. I should admit that despite the unorthodox appearance and small informalities, my new Israeli doctor seemed professional, knowledgeable and reliable.

I stopped by a random haircut salon to trim and shape up my hair. After shampooing, the haircut master, Itzik, told me that instead of a light trim he would like to suggest a perfect haircut for me. My straight thin hair will look great in a short-back, long front combination, he said. Although this bold offer took me by surprise, I just loved it. This is exactly what I have missed in those 17 years in US. Somebody taking my hair under his/her expertise and offering me some befitting options instead of waiting for my order of what to do or following pictures that I printed from the Internet.

I feel very Tel Avivian with this new stylish haircut:


It seems that the average technological level of the population is exceptionaly high. People are trusted to figure things out. Here is a waiting room monitor at the neighborhood medical center's blood laboratory. You pick a number at the computerized station at the entrance, you know exactly how many people are before you in line, when your turn is coming and what technician you should go to.

Even 60-year old people are communicating by texting each other.
Large percentage of 8-year-olds have a Facebook account.

Today is the first day when temperatures are below 90F (it is 86F). My mom took the kids to the pool in her building and was worried that it may be too cold. I reminded her that they happily swam in the outdoor pool next to the windy Atlantic Ocean in Vancouver when it was below 70F.

Speaking of the heat, a candle that I lazily left outside while unpacking, melted into a wax puddle.

From my preliminary communication with the parents of kids from the school it looks like there are quite a few divorced couples with 2 or 3 kids. I do not recollect any woman I know in the US that is divorced + 3. Do you think Israeli women are more independent and less tolerant than American? Is it related to their mandatory Army service or to the fact that almost all of them have to work for living? Even mothers of 3 and 4 have a career and enjoy a strong sense of self-confidence that such fulfilling life brings. It seems that this desire for respet and independence had spread to the senior people as well. Moshe's 85 year old grandparents are talking about divorce.

Almost everyone here (women and men) is a great cook and usually very modest about it. Weekend newspapers publish excellent recepies.

We went to the museum called Mini-Israel and were surprised to find how large it is. It contains miniatures of the most significant places and buildings in Israel giving amazing overview of the multicultural history of this land, rich architectural traditions, geographical attractions from the Red Sea to the Hermon mountain. We took a bunch of snapshots to create our tourist map of the places to visit. This is a great first stop for any Israeli tourist. Pick and mix your list of attractions.



The evening circus show at this museum turned out to be devoted to Gilad Shalit (Israeli soldier held in captivity by Hamas since 2006) and as today was his birthday started with a very sad Happy Birthday song and candle on the cake blowing with audience wishing for his return. I am not sure how to explain this properly to the kids without scaring them... When Naor saw on TV an exploded bus headed for a popular resort town of Eilat, he pleaded to immediately move back to Boston. Were we right to come here endangering our kids? I don't know yet.

Moving in

After 3 weeks in Israel we have finally settled into our new home. The house that looked small and clumsy at the beginning now feels cosy and spacious. The square footage is significantly smaller than what we had in Needham, no garage and basement, but the ceilings are much taller giving it a royal breeze. Almost every relative contributed something to help us settle in - assembling the chairs, unpacking 400+ boxes, babysitting or making food for us. We only have 20 or so boxes to go but no more space to fit stuff in.

While we are trying to get rid of the stuff here (and it is much easier than in Needham as trash is picked twice a week!), Nadia who goes to a circus camp is trying to convince us to buy her stilts.

The actual process of receiving our shipment was rather tragic-comical. The container that was supposed to arrive to our doorstep at 8am was first pushed to 2pm and then to 6pm. The enormous brown ZIM crate was too large to fit on our tiny street, so a giant track brought our ZIM crate to one of the nearest parking lots. A crew of 4 Georgian, 1 Arab and 1 Ethiopian men unloaded our boxes in batches from the crate into a regular size moving track, drove to our street and then pulled these boxes on their backs three-at-a-time uphill to our home (30 meters). They slowly brought in all 400+ boxes, some of which they had to haul along the swivel steps to the second floor. All this in a 80 degrees evening heat. They finished at 2am. They were sweaty to the bones, dirty, exhausted, hungry, still planning to wake up at 7am for the next job they had yet they kept their sence of humor and courtesy. Learning that we are relocating after 17 years in US and want to try living here, one of the Georgian men told us that he has travelled a bit around the world and couldn't find a better country than Israel to live in. Quite a surprising statememt from someone who attended a Moscow University and ended with such a tough and low-paid occupation! I guess this is a thing about Israel - you love it not "becuase of" but "despite of".

We visited school and were up for a big surprise. It is true that we started with the very low expectations as we were warned of 40 kids class sizes and a short school day. But school resources looked very impressive even in comparison with our US private school. This is a public elementary school for ages 6-12, in North TelAviv. They have 300 laptops for 400 students, kids have to bring headphones to many lessons. There is a special science program "Tree of Knowledge" that is practiced only in a few schools in Israel. There is one full size basketball court outside, large gym inside, a very large animal quarter with donkey, skunk, chickens and at least 10 other types of animals.

There are indeed 39 kids in Naor's class and 27 in Nadia's. Unlike in US, they do not mix kids from the same grade classes from year to year. This may make it a bit more difficult for our kids socially as most of their classmates have been together since age 6.

There is a school uniform! Various color Tshirts (and sweaters) with the school logo - we are going to buy them today. Kids can match it with any bottoms. Sounds good and easy for me.

There are school study books and workbooks - something that we didn't have at our school in US - there were only countless printouts. We purchased 500 shekels worth of books for each kid. Looks like kids' schoolbags are going to be heavy.

We managed to overcome most of the bureaucracy and now have medical insurance, cell phones. But our TV is showing only black-and-white and there is still no stable internet at home. Even iCarly looks retro. The upside is that this lack of connectivity makes us less aware of the unstable situation in the South of the country.

The cable company is urging us to buy a special transformer called Scaler that can turn our American TV signal into Israeli signal and referred us to an independent electronics seller. Suspiciously enough the "independent" electronics guy came with the logo of the cable company on his Tshirt, pulled out the white box that contained no signage or manuals, took out of it a black device that immediately turned our TV into color. But he wanted 1,200 shekels for it, couldn't quite explan what exactly this black device is doing and we felt cheated. So we are still trying to figure out the best way of action.

Everything is much more expensive. I just scheduled a pedicure appointment that suppose to cost 140 shekels = $40. In Brookline while Naor took his math class it was only $20 for the same two feet.

We now have a proper guest room with a queen size bed and look forward to welcoming you all here. We have a little yard, a grille that is still unpacked, a giant park ha-Yarkon at a 5 mins walk and always warm Mediterenean beach at a 15 min car drive.

First Days in Israel

Dear friends,

Hope you all continuing to enjoy the summer.
Just a quick update of our adventures in Israel so far.

We were greeted in Israel by our families with confetti poppers, billboards, flowers and songs. At first I thought our arrival coincided with Lady Gaga's or some other celebrity, but turned out it is all for us.

Heat here is like from an open stove and any attempt to step outside between 9am and 6pm is an act of heroism and probably a stupid one. After 6pm life is paradise: imagine a bright pink sunset above the Mediterranean and a delicious dinner of lebane with freshly baked bread, roasted eggplant, tahini and local fish at a breezy beach cafe after a dip in the warm waters of the salty sea. By the way, we were told that the owner of the cafe does not have a permission to build or sell anything on this beach territory but because he is an injured army veteran the authorities have let this slip through for 10 years.

We have visited about 10 government offices so far - interior ministry, immigration ministry, town hall etc. All have strong AC, long lines with one tail but many heads which behavior could not be described by any computer science algorithm. People appear and disappear, last become first, people fight and 30 mins later tell each other their life stories.

We are living with Moshe's parents and hope to populate our new home in a week. Just a few small problems to solve: mice in the attic, a few old air conditioners that do not work, and the fact that we have twice as much stuff arriving in the container as can fit inside our new house. Likely, it is not going to rain here for another 90 days and we can probably store our giant Ikea bookshelves in the yard.

Yes, the country is at strike. A few months ago a newspaper article about ridiculously high price of cottage ignited a wave of political activism demanding social justice: affordable housing, free medical insurance, longer school day, smaller taxes. In every green town square there are tents where protesters camp and live with their families. I am not sure they really stay in these tents during the day as there is no breeze and 100F outside but at night it all looks like a hippy commune. People eat at the long connected tables, kids play ball outside and there are even movies screenings for kids and adults on the loan. Today apparently there is planning to be a half a million people demonstration in Tel Aviv. Struck by jet lag and being a newcomers here we are still trying to figure out what side we are on. We are definitely angry to pay 100% tax on the car we have shipped but after 17 years in US we also understand that affordable housing for everyone in any place he/she wants to live is problematic.

We are slowly getting to know our little nephews that were born in the last few years and now have well-defined personalities, facial features and can talk. Kids are thrilled to have so many cousins around them but do not always manage to find common ground with them.

The amount of love and support that we got so far is unbelievable that quickly convinced even skeptics like me that the decision to try this out was the right one. We miss you all and hope to hear from you soon.

We have no phones yet and just got wireless working but in a few weeks it will all settle down and we hope to be easily accessible via skype, email and phone. Can't wait to welcome you in our new house someday soon!