יום השואה: לזכור ולתקן

Yesterday was Yom HaShoah.

Yesterday at 10:00 am the sirens went off. At 10:00 am every Israeli stood atogether in silence. Cars stopped. At 10:00 am every Israeli, and every Jew, remembered where we came from and those whose lives were lost at at the hands of intolerance and ignorance.

The sirens are powerfully haunting. The entire country stops in respect and remembrance. I have never experienced anything like it. Here are some videos:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYooy2KcKbE&feature=youtube_gdata_player

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lYADekjoG0&feature=youtube_gdata_player

At 9:48 I was eating breakfast with my coworkers in the dining room. Noam looked at the time and said we had to hurry back before the sirens started. We got to the madan at 9:58. We ran inside and turned on the radio. The emotions I experienced in these moments before the sirens reminded me of waiting for a tsunami to hit. I think it was suspense caused by the knowledge that something powerful was coming and inevitable. Then the sirens started. Even without the radio on, we could hear them. They are deafening and they fill the air. It was stunning. At that moment, I felt a deep sadness and yet an intense appreciation for my life.

I am lucky.

Pesach

Today is the last day of Pesach. In 45 minutes I will join my family to celebrate the coming of Shabbat and the conclusion of Pesach.

I spent Seder here, on the Kibbutz, with my family. The day of Seder, Dan and I helped Leann make floral arrangements in the dining room. Leann gathered the flowers herself, from the fields surrounding Ma'agan Michael. She arranged the flowers in an organic and whimsical way that was quite impressive.

Seder was HUGE. I think the official attendance count was something like 900 people. Sharon, my mom, led the seder while I sat with the rest of the family and ate matzah with ketchup. At the end of Seder, Sharon and I sang Oseh Shalom Bimromav together, on stage. It was a special moment. I was very nervous. I am glad did it. Sharon says that it is in challenging yourself and doing things that you are scared of that you grow. She is right.

Seder was different than I am used to. Not religious. Fast. Big. I missed home. I missed my family and mama's matzah lasagna...and Mina's matzah candy!

Pesach in Israel is strange. Those who keep kosher, follow the sephardic tradition and eat rice and legumes and barley. I don't which meant no hummus. Many people look at you like you're crazy when they realize you observe Pesach. Someone even asked me "Why?!"

Once you leave the kibbutz, keeping kosher gets a little easier. Restaurants advertise that they are Kosher for Pesach and grocery stores hang sheets over the shelves of food that isn't kosher because you aren't allowed to buy it. In restaurants, you can get matzah for the table instead of bread. What tickled me the most was walking down the street in Tel Aviv and seeing random matzah crackers littered across the sidewalk, abandoned in the park, and being eaten by men in the mechanics shop. It made me feel proud. Often, during Pesach in America, you really feel alone. While you eat dry matzah and macaroons, everyone else is indulging in jelly beans and chocolate bunnies. Here there were no chocolate bunnies...just matzah in the grass. It might sound sad, but actually, it felt refreshing.

I like the feeling of giving something up in order to gain a higher and more alert concienciousness of my Jewish identity and of myself. I have always found it comforting to know that I am just one amongst millions of people who are making a similar sacrifice for a common purpose. We are reminded not to take for granted our freedoms and to celebrate what it is to be Jewish. Pesach is a time to look inward. To relieve the body from the bondage of indulgence in order to cleanse the soul and open the mind. It is a time to recollect where we came from and how we will move forward. Forward I move...

!חג שמח לכולם

With undying love for מימונה, שסקים, בבקשה, אין כניסה לפילים, וזיקיות

(meemoonah, shesekim [a delicious fruit growing on my neighbor's tree], No Entry for Elephants, picking grapefruits, and chameleons.)

I respectfully remain,

J. Michael Hess Webber

the squeegee.

The squeegee (see left) is a staple of Israeli housekeeping. Seemingly, the mop does not exist in the Land of Milk and Honey. There is only the squeegee and the broom. Sometimes the broom doubles as a scrub brush but ALWAYS the squeegee reigns supreme.

The squeegee serves multiple functions.

1) When water is not used, the squeegee can be used in place of a broom. For example, if there are matzah crumbs on the floor, and you are an Ulpanist, you can use the squeegee to gather and push the matzah crumbs out of the room.

2)When used with water (as it is intended), the squeegee pushes the water around and ultimately down the drain. All Israeli bathrooms are equipped with a drain in the middle of the floor. This way the water can be removed easily. This is very necessary because, on the Kibbutz, the entire bathroom is your shower. There is NO shower curtain OR tub. Thus, after a shower, the entire bathroom is wet. So, then you take the squeegee and push all the water down the drain.

(quick tangent: before you take a shower, you also have to move your toilet paper to a high shelf AND lift the toilet seat to avoid getting it wet. )

3)I have also seen the squeegee be used to remove the water from a tabletop after a spill AND to clean the windshield of a van. Mind you...this would be the same squeegee that is used to clean the bathroom floor.

As I see it, the squeegee would not serve much purpose for an American household because, unlike in Israel, American architecture does not revolve around the squeegee. It is rare to have a drain in the floor...which entirely eliminates the usefulness of a squeegee. This is unfortunate because I am growing quite fond of squeegeeing.

With Undying Love for Squeegees...

I Respectfully Remain,

J. Michael Hess Webber