Yom Kippyr 2013

This year we didn't fast or went to a synagogue but rather joined the kids in their wonder of open streets that happens only once a year and for 24 hours.

6:30pm. Tel Aviv's central highway (Ayalon) is completely empty as Naor is starting his journey to the Rabin Square, then to Hertzelya and back to the Northern Tel Aviv.

7pm. Nadia and her friend are ready for a bike ride to the Tel Aviv port. After insisting on chaperoning them I realized that all school age kids are riding without parent supervision.

7:30pm More and more kids are riding into the streets. Passing under the bridge with the Disney on Ice ad.

Ayalon highway later on this Kippyr evening. Wide open for bikers. 

Youth and kids are all out on the Even Gvirol street in Tel Aviv.

8pm. Near Park ha Yarkon. 

9pm. The great new playground in the Tel Aviv port is filled with kids of all ages that rode from Tel Aviv and neighboring towns.

Tel Aviv port. The couple in white are returning from a synagogue.

Yom Kippyr Day - 100F heat. We took Nili to a playground but then stayed in till the evening packing Naor for his trip to the US.

6pm Bikers enjoy the tunnel curves.

Nadia is skateboarding near the Assyta Hospital.

A girl on a skateboard being pulled by her dog on Raoul Wallenberg street.

Sun is setting down on the Raoul Wallenberg street and the monument.

Fauna Change

We used to see wild turkeys on the way to kids' school in Newton, MA:

Now we see green parrots flying over from the Park ha Yarkon:

Our back yard in MA was a fighting rink for squirrels:

Now in Tel Aviv it is a fighting rink for cats that locals treat exactly like squirrels in MA with simultaneous love and hate. Actually, more of the latter.

A Hug from the Land of Expected Terror to the Land of Unexpected

Our dear Boston friends. What a shock it was to learn about the Boston Marathon Bombing on the eve of Israel's Independence Day.  We were in Tel Aviv's celebration center - Rabin square - amid loud fireworks, large open air concert, foam-covered children and cars, and thousands of families with kids, teens, youth, elders celebrating outside late into the night. So proud we were to show this wild, ecstatic Israel to our Bostonian friends who arrived the day before for their son's Bar Mitzvah.  At first it seems as a mistake. A bomb? Not in Israel? Not related to the Independence Day Celebration? At our Boston, the college and sports town? During the Marathon? Why?

Just the day before was a Memorial Day - one of the saddest day of the year in Israel. The day when we (notice that "we" just slipped out of my hands naturally) mourn fallen soldiers, victims of terror, and optionally any other relatives that have passed away.  Two minute-long sirens at 8pm and 11am stop the routine life and signal the sadness of the day. In the evening most people attend community ceremonies or watch Memorial eve Service on TV. (All the other Israeli TV channels suspend their broadcasts for 24 hours.)  During the day many go to the military cemeteries to pay respect to their relatives or friends who died for the country. We went to a service organized in a small neighborhood park nearby by the local Tzofim (scouts) group that our daughter belongs to and found there most of the school families.

It was very sad and beautiful. On a make-shift stage, near the banner with the word "Remember", a few teen scouts sung, played instruments, read poetry and talked about 20 people that went to the neighborhood schools, the army, and fell in one of the recent wars, military operations, terrorist attacks or tragic car accidents while at the army.  Next morning each of the kids had another memorial ceremony at their day care and schools, returning home in a teary and contemplative mood. I read that alternative ceremonies marking both - Israeli and Palestinian - victims of wars and terror were held in at least one location in Tel Aviv.

Toward the evening, the country slowly switch from mourning those who fell to celebrating the life they fell for. Independence Day cheer was very similar to the US July 4th celebrations just a bit more unruly  We walked with our Bostonian friends all the way from the Tel Aviv beachfront to Disengof street, then to ha Bima and Rabin square. And we tried every Israeli treat along the way - fresh fruit smoothies, shwarma and falafel on Frishman, coffee with cheesecake, Pizza Agvania, Vaniglia Ice Cream and then again at midnight, oven-hot bourekas. Our US-raised kids were at first hesitant but then thrilled to use the giant foam bottles to spray each other and some structures nearby imitating others.  Music, fireworks, flashing led light toys, foam, inflatable hammers, funny blue-and-white hats and kids of all ages freely running around well past bedtime. There was so much freedom and  happiness in the air.  Our guests mused that they haven't seen this side of Israel in their previous synagogue-organized tours.

Moshe mentioned that one of the newspapers just ran an article titled "Why are Israelis so damn happy?"  A question that seemed so fitting at the moment but we couldn't discuss it with the exploding boom of the fireworks and crowd cheer.  It may be the Mediterranean Passion for life, the sunshine, the open emotions culture, large and supportive family networks or the thrill and relief of life-in-danger. Just across from our ice cream stop was a place where the last real hope for Israeli-Palestinian Peace was shot in 1995 - Prime Minister Itzhak Rabin. Not by a Palestinian terrorist but by a local educated and sane Jewish terrorist opposed to Rabin's relatively left-wing policies. A lone and angry person that confused himself to be a revolutionary just as currently suspected in the Boston Marathon terror.

Our dear Bostonian friends, we are so glad you are all safe, that you run not so fast or took a break at this marathon or changed the viewing spot just before the explosions.  We hug you from this far away land that used to the terror signs and consequences. Where too many police sirens mean that urgent news will come soon, where armed security guards are a custom at schools, malls and any public events. People here know too well how sorrow fills up your heart and all you want is to lock up your doors, huddle your family and hide everyone under the down blanket keeping them far from any danger. But then you realize that this is exactly what terrorists wanted - attention and fear. And perhaps what we all should be doing instead is continue living our wonderful ordinary lives and trying to be damn happy.

The Happy Ending???

I went jogging in the park with Nili yesterday around noon.  The long loop at the very North of Park ha Yarkon was almost empty aside from a few tourists, someone from the nearby high-tech area enjoying his sandwich in the park and one religious youth with teffilin praying toward the yellow strip of Yarkon river.  At the end of the jog I treated Nili to some barefoot play in the sand. We had to find a shady area as the sun was burning and some of the playground covers had been removed in lieu of winter to be washed. Nili was so fascinated with the sand substance that started throwing it all around her.  Suddenly the air was pierced by a string of police sirens.  One car after another was zipping toward Tel Aviv center and it quickly became obvious that something bad had happened there. Someone exercising next to me was trying to check the ynet news but it wasn't loading. Then HaAretz app on my phone flashed the news of a bus explosion in Tel Aviv.  So busy with the air threats we forgot about this other terror option. To think about it, just a few days ago I encouraged Naor to take his first independent bus ride naively thinking that as long as Gaza is closed buses are safe. Heading home I passed a few bus stops and saw people coming of buses, talking on their cellphones, probably learning the news and thinking how lucky they are to be speared.

At home on TV I saw how Israeli intelligence services are carefully packing every single piece of junk from the place of explosion  so that they could reconstruct it later in the lab.  Police was commanding people to get away from the scene as reports of another woman wearing an explosive belt have been coming through. The nearby Azriely skyscraper that is a mall and an office building has been closed. As injured in the bus were interviewed in the hospital more and more details about the suspect were released.  Explosive bag was placed under the seat a few bus stops before, suspect exited the bus and then initiated the explosion remotely. Police arrested someone in the nearby stock market area but later on he was cleared.  In the afternoon I was trying to take the kids to their usual activities but the streets of Tel Aviv and all roads North were completely packed. Probably police shut down some routes searching for the suspects and people were trying to get home to their kids earlier.  I was stuck in the traffic for 2.5 hours just to make a 10 km route.

Cease fire never seemed as unrealistic as now when South was under fire and the heart of Israel was hit from within. Yet Hillary Clinton was here, then in Cairo, undoubtedly pressing both sides, and in the evening the news of an upcoming announcement started to appear on the TV. As the announcement went on IDF was continuing to bomb Gaza, more rockets were fired on Beer Sheva and Ashdod some hitting houses and anti-cease-fire demonstrations were held in a few cities. I was at the doctors clinic with my mom at this time and everyone around watching the news were extremely skeptical that this peace will last.

Yes, this morning we all were surprised to discover that it holds for now. Army is still on a high alert, schools in the South are still closed, people are instructed to be watchful in public transportation but TV has switched to cover the January election campaign.

When dropping my mom at the train station this morning I saw this cheerful religious sandwich seller that was greeting everyone with "Good morning", wishing an "Ahla" day and encouraging people to smile, while marketing his sandwiches made from the legendary Marco bread and the heavy sadness present in my heart all last week started to disappear.

Later on a distant noise was heard in Tel Aviv sky and everyone was revealed to realize that it is a thunder of the approaching rain.

Back from school Naor announced that they are planning a surprise party for his class teacher who should be released from the army any day now.

As War Continues

Excitement of the first war days wore off and now it is fear, frustration and exhaustion. Of course the hardest impact is down South. Our relatives in Ashdod hear the sirens every 3-5 min; kids sleep in the sheltered rooms and parents rush there at the first wailing of the sirens.   A building not far from them had been hit. They are hesitant to come over as roads are exposed, their family is large and we don't have a sheltered room in our house. My cousin sounded very angry on the phone insisting on the Army entering Gaza and finishing the job on the ground. Like many others living on the fire line he is tired of years of random bombings - few hundred every year. But according to military predictions ground invasion will be a bloody mess for both sides and even if Hamas is completely destroyed, next in popularity is Islamic Jihad that have a strong support in Iran.

In Tel Aviv we have had one or two daily sirens every day in the last four. Most of them have been intersected by the Iron Dome defense system. This system had just been installed above Tel Aviv three day ago and is being tweaked by the engineers as rockets fly by.  So far, great success rate but no guarantee, so with every siren we rush to the "safest" room, lie on the floor covering our heads and wait for the siren to stop and then count the seconds to a loud "boom" hoping it wont occur above us. Yesterday the sirens went off during school hours, kids were taken to the shelters and we received an instant message from Nadia's teacher within a seconds that everything is OK.
Throughout the day life mostly continues as normal.  But anywhere I go I am trying to note a potential cover spot in case sirens will start - in the park, at the store, on the freeway.  Preparing to run to the supermarket today I was hesitant whether to take the baby with me or leave her at home with my dad; kind of a life roulette. Our audio sense has never worked so hard and felt so critical. Ears are attentively tuned to the street sounds trying to classify the noise as the war alert (siren) or routine noise of police sirens, motorcycle roar, airplane engines. Sometimes it seems to start similarly, takes a second of worry, but then there is usually a relief. My grandmother used to be an expert at such sounds during the Second World War in Russia. She was only 17 but responsible for distinguishing enemy airplanes from the Russian planes by the sound before they are in sight.

Two of our son's teachers and some of the fathers of our kids friends have been called to the army duty. 8-months pregnant mom of one of Nadia's friends stayed behind, working and managing with 3 young kids (and a dog) by herself.  In general most of the Israelis (men, under 47 years old) would do anything to avoid the mandatory yearly 2-week army duty bringing excuses from work, doctors, and even rabbis. But in a case of war, such as this one, the show-up rate is almost 100%. According to the news, the army is parked at the Gaza entrance ready to enter.  Most people here hope it wont happen but everyone also knows that any peace with Hamas can be only temporary.

Our First War Sirens

It started as a regular tennis lesson in the Tel Aviv's Park ha Yarkon.  A magical complex with ten or fifteen well-lit courts and elegant party place among the tall palm trees and the amusement park in the background. All the courts were full with students of all ages and group sizes. Our daughter was one out of two girls and six boys aged 9-10 with a teacher and an assistant. Given the late after-work hour (6-7pm), few of the parents were there waiting for their kids or taking the lessons themselves. I, as always, was using this time to play with our baby on the grass under the palm trees. She was holding my hand and pulling me to run in circles. Suddenly, 20 min into the lesson, the siren went off.  Not the loud one as in the second world war movies and not the low and steady one as we hear every Friday from Bnei Brak, but the up-and-down dull one. Before I figured out what was going on, the teacher told all the kids to lie down in the middle of the court and cover their heads with their hands. Few moms ran to join the kids in the court. I grabbed the baby and rushed next to my older daughter. Surprisingly kids were not scared and thought it all must be a part of some training. The baby was trying to escape my enclosure and crawl away. In a minute we heard a distant boom and sirens stopped. One mom grabbed her cell and frantically started calling her kids who were left at home alone. She then grabbed her daughter and left hugging my back on the way as we exited the courts, like saying "It will be OK, newcomer.". The rest of the parents stayed and called their families to check on or share the experience while kids continued the lesson as usual. A few minutes later my cell posted "Ha-Aretz" newspaper alert that sirens went off in Tel Aviv. Then my mom called and my sister-in-law. I sent an instant message to my husband who was travelling that we just lived through our first war siren. In this bright court light with so many people around it looked more exciting than scary. Back at home we found my dad glued to the TV.  He told me that he just served himself dinner when the siren went off. He contemplated for a second but then decided that warm food and hungry stomach can not wait.

The day before my cell-phone posted a news alert that Israeli Defense Forces assassinated the main Hamas mastermind, Ahmed al-Jabari. Almost immediately a non-stop rocket fire escalated from Gaza and all large people gatherings (schools, weddings, outdoor birthday parties) were cancelled in the nearby to Gaza areas.  Rocket fire to Shderot, Ashkelon and Ashdod has happened a few times in the past months already so it wasn't very unusual.  But then my mother-in-law sent an instant message advising to buy water supplies and I started to think through the assassination news.
I called my cousin's wife from Ashdod and offered her to bring her daughter over tomorrow. She told me that she happens to be at the wedding in Rehovot with my mother and that she is going to stay at home tomorrow with her kids and her mom. Her husband, my cousin, went to work in Ashkelon the next day, passing through 3 sirens on his way, then after 15 more sirens his factory got closed for the day and he returned home.

Our son was at his swim practice in Hertzlya and learned about the rocket only later. He called asap, ensuring that everyone is safe and was on his phone all evening discussing the situation with his classmates and swim team friends. He told me that he was calming down a girl from his school who was from the South but lived in the boarding school in Tel Aviv. They all were in the bomb shelters.

Our neighbor stopped by and brought me keys from her house. Unlike our old-built house, they have a bomb-shelter room inside theirs and she invited us to run over no matter whether they are at home or not.  Another option would be to run to the town shelter that is located one street away but there is no chance we could reach it in 1.5 mins, and this is how long it takes for the rocket to reach Tel Aviv from Gaza.

Our son demanded that we should prepare an emergency bag and I asked him to list everything he thinks should go into it. He did a great job: water, pocket knife, food, baby diapers and food, flashlights, money.  I packed it and left next to the front door. Later on my dad added a giant plastic bag full of garbage there and we joked that we should be very careful to grab the right bags if we ran. I also mused that kids should put on their prettiest PJs and wore sport clothes myself for the night.  Despite these preparations, we all decided that if something happens in the middle of the night the safest would be to gather in the master bedroom and lie face down like we did on the tennis courts.  Before sleep to calm the kids down from all the news, I let them watch extra TV and our daughter was so surprised and excited that she muttered: "I don't mind the sirens going off every day." The night was quiet, aside from baby teething and awake a few times.

School was open the next day but the planned school-wide ceremony got cancelled. Life went as usual on Friday mornings. Another siren went off soon after lunch and we all rushed to the bedroom covering our heads with our hands. I stood on my knees hiding our baby under me and she started crying scared from the dark under my body and sweater flaps. Again, a min or two, a distant boom and sirens stopped. Relatives called as well as our son swim teammates who live in the Northern areas inviting us/him to come over. Someone told that the rocket fell in the fields close to his school.  In the afternoon he left for a swim meet in the North that was going on as planned. I took both daughters to the neighborhood park that was all empty. The weather was magnificent: autumn warm and quiet; air slightly yellow from the setting sun.  A few men in variously colored kippas went by to the local synagogue. It seemed so close to Paradise, so peaceful. Back at home I made the Tomato Basil soup from the New England Soup Factory cookbook and we watched two movies occasionally checking the news. 

Ohh, the real estate.

I have not been writing in a while because in addition to the regular crazy family routine we are very busy figuring out where we should live in Israel. Our rent is expiring in a few months and it could be nice to move into something of our own. We like the area of Ramat ha Hayal that welcomed us this year but not sure whether it is the best for us. Like a pendulum we are shifting between wishes of a bursting life in a small apartment in the inner city to the ideas of relaxing, serene lifestyle in the suburban villa.

 Tel Aviv is luring us with its offerings. It is a self-proclaimed city that never stops and indeed many cultural events are happening here daily. One may say that it is mostly for adults, but here it is: the main Tel Aviv library is offering fiction and comics-writing classes for kids. Tel Aviv opera has a summer camp where kids can sing and sew. Last summer on many Tel Aviv intersections you could spot a piano chained to some pole, inviting everyone to dip their hands in.

 HaBima square is an amazing place for roller-skates, and Tel Aviv promenade has been named one of the top 10 in the world. When I started writing this in August, Tel Aviv had a White Night celebration with many mid-night events throughout the city: an earphones party in the Rabin's square, opera marathon in the Opera building, a set of short intellectual lectures at the University, midnight run in the Yarkon Park and much more. But is this stimulation good for today's already over-stimulated kids? Do they need this cultural exposure or calm? Many times after school our kids are running to their rooms to relax after the screams of school. Is it safe for the kids to wonder the streets of the city by themselves? And we, can we manage with the impossible parking of our large American cars into the tiny street parking spaces in Tel Aviv? Can we downsize our belongings and personal space so much that we can fit into a small apartment?

 Or perhaps we should go to the suburbs. Own a piece of land, breath fresh air, inflate a pool for the kids, have enough space to host a large family event. Not hear any neighbors. Safe and relaxing atmosphere of a village where kids grow by-themselves in the wild. But why then some houses we saw have metal bars on the french doors leading to the porch/yard? Why even in suburbs most people still drive their kids to/from school and after-school activities?

 As you see, we are rather confused. But the largest of all problems is the real estate cost. With the salaries that are on average 1/2 of the US salaries, real estate here is 2 times the US cost. In the US million dollars is a very large number, somewhere out there, with the infinity. Here million is something many people count their mortgage in. At first you laugh in disbelief, you think you will figure something out, you decide to join the protesters that demand social justice, you hope the prices that rose 50-70% in the last 10 years will finally start dropping down. But then you look right and left, you see everyone managing, and know that you must, somehow. Surprisingly, we are much more adaptable creatures than we think and after just one year in Israel our kids are already OK with potential options of sharing a room or moving into an apartment.

As always with Israelis, necessity is a mother of invention. A few of the people we met bought small and old first-floor apartments, renovated them, got permits to dig in same size basements (under the apartment building!) and divided the yard surrounding the building between the tenants.


Most of the people immigrating from the US come to Raanana or small towns (yeshyvim) a bit North such as Tel Mond, Zicharon Yakov, etc. Like in the US, real estate prices correlate with the quality of public schools and general cultural level of the population. Real Estate site, Madlan, recently posted ratings of all schools in the country. However Israel has much more diversity everywhere. We rent in a quite expensive area where an old 2-bedroom apartment goes for $600,000 and a 4-bedroom house for $1,300,000. Still, I am saddened to discover teenagers leaving kids' park filthy in the evening, large dogs running unleashed, few mothers smoking cigarettes next to their kids at the playground and school so unorganized that even the animals in its wild corner were tragically attacked one night by the neighborhood dogs. I should devote another post to what we learned so far about Israeli schools. There is a lot to admire and a lot to feel enraged about.

Real Estate Agents and Transactions.  We have met a few excellent agents in each city, but the rest are comically unprofessional and paranoid. Most are competing for the same houses so they are ridiculously secret. They screen you on the phone trying to sniff whether you are another Realtor pretending to be a client and just trying to steal the house from them. When they schedule an appointment they rarely tell you the name of the street and the house number - you meet them at the closest corner. Many didn't know the size of the house they are offering to sell, number of the bathrooms or the school district.


And even when we thought that we found one "professional agent" that seems knowledgeable and reliable we realized another major problem - most of the agents are dual agents representing a seller and a buyer simultaneously and receiving 2% from each.   They are obviously more loyal to the seller with whom they are surely having a deal rather then the buyer who is probable. We almost bought a house recently realizing in the last second that there is a large electric pole-hub in the corner of the yard. The agent didn't think of pointing this to us even though electromagnetic radiation have been a concern for the current tenants as well as all potential buyers, and tests have been done.

When selling our house in Boston, we were required to move all our junk away, clean the house before any showing and get away from the house avoiding any personal interaction with the potential buyers. We read stories about apple pies placed in the oven to seduce the buyers with the cozy smell. Here, searching for a place to buy, we see snapshots of family life as it is, un-edited: owners are almost always present in the house, sometimes we see kids still in bed or in their pajamas, pots with deliciously and not-so-deliciously smelling food simmering on the stove. We learn from the owners everything that agents are incapable of telling us about the area, schools, parks, building plans and neighbors. At the end the system works out. The process is tedious, time consuming and occasionally frustrating but we discover what each area has to offer. And the fact that we get confused more and more means that they are all pretty good.