Watching A War

Why is it that every time I move to Israel there’s a war?

I mean really, you would think they could keep it together for a month. Last time I moved there was August 2000. I got a good two and a half weeks to adjust before the Intifada started last time. Now Lebanon had to go crazy again?

Anyway, I spent yesterday’s fast working. I didn’t get hungry, but started getting dizzy towards the end of the day. I was constantly calling vendors and leaving messages, but for some reason not getting any response. The I get home and check my machine…

BEEEEP - “… Uh, Ephraim? Yeah, this is Bob from Acme Valve Corp calling you back.”

Turns out I was so punchy at work that I was giving out my home phone number for them to call me back when I left them messages. The funny part is my home message has a Hebrew greeting on it, so these guys were really thrown off.

Spent some time reading Israeli papers, watching videos of burning buildings and homes in the North, wishing I were there to help out in some way. Hang on guys, I’ll be there soon. I swung by some coworkers’ offices and had to explain what’s happening there and why.

Spent the rest of the day reading Lebanese bloggers rapidly posting and updating as Israel systematically knocked off buildings, bridges, and airports as if they were stepping on ants.

As a Jew and future Israeli citizen, I understand the need to immolate the country. If Israel doesn’t, then Israel will get it back ten times worse than it’s giving right now.

As an engineer, I see this as an unmitigated and tragic destruction. Such beautiful infrastructure is being reduced to rubble, and far worse is to come. Just wait until the ground invasion.


As a human being, I feel badly for the middle class Lebanese who were too frightened and weak to take control of their country before something like this happened. Despite the hatred many express for Israel and Jews, most of the bloggers I’m reading understand on some level that this would not be happening had Hizbullah not attacked Israel. Perhaps something good will come of this if they some day see that they have more to lose by passively standing on the sidelines as their country becomes a terrorist playground than they do by disarming Hizbullah. But the only way to demonstrate that fact is by making them lose big time now.

UPDATE 10:02 AM: Israeli Jets Blast Beirut Building Believed Housing Hezbollah Chief

Ooooooh, this is just too good to be true. Nasrallah isn't that stupid, is he?

My Brain is Burning

A-Minus: 1 Month, 3 Days

I'm just sitting here. Reading other people's blogs. Checking the news. I have work to do. Bags to pack. Things to sell. But it all seems such a waste.

Seven Israelis (Jews and Druze soldiers) died, two kidnapped. But I feel it's not right to say anything. I remember living in Israel, hearing the "go getum'" corus from America as my favorite little landmarks and my public transportation was repeatedly blown to smithereens for the glory of Allah the "merciful." But I never appreciated the gung-ho attitude I got from some of my American Jewish friends, praising every Israeli reaction to Arab violence, but when it came to actually contributing something, "What me, move there? But how would I make a living?"

So as long as I'm in America, I keep my mouth sealed shut. No talking about the disengagement, the Gaza kidnappings, the coming war in Lebanon. If you want my opinion, read my posts from 2000-2002. You can probably figure out what I think now.

In the mean time, the duct tape stays over my mouth. But only for another month.

Movement

A-Minus: 1 Month, 4 Days

Operation Trashheap continues apace!

-I have someone coming over tonight to pick up a bunch of junk, someone else who wants one of my computers.

-Delivered three large boxes to the post office to be sent to my folks' up north.

-Packing three suitcases for my upcoming visit home to store at their place.

-And, of course, trying to continue with the rest of my life in the mean time.

There's an extra spring in my step every time I ship a box, sell a tool, or clear up a bit of floor space.

My exit comes not a moment too soon, as neighborhood I live in has been going downhill. Not that it was ever very high on the hill to begin with, but it's somewhere in the sewer now.

As rents have gone down and places remain vacant, management started renting to "Monument People," i.e., the crowd that hangs out on Monument Blvd. in downtown Concord. I.e. illegal - no, make that "undocumented" immigrants. And that includes the maintenance supervisor.

They have been congregating in the front courtyard of my neighbor nightly, engaging in rowdy gambling sessions that last till midnight or 1 AM. I would tell them to be quiet, but I don't speak Spanish. And I don't want to get shot.

A family moved upstairs from me, and I started finding crushed beer cans and burnt cigarette butts in my back yard. Not smart, considering my back yard consists of 2 foot high grass. I went up and tried to discuss the issue with them, but, you know, "No hablo Ingles." I immediately told the management and then took out a renter's insurance policy in case the complex burns down. Then, they started throwing feces into my back yard. Yes, you read that right.

After that, my next door neighbors tore out the bottom board of the fence connecting my back yard to their back yard. Then they got a dog, which is not allowed per the renter's contract, and trained the dog to crawl under the hole they made in the fence and "make" in my back yard.

That's not to mention the three automobile breakins, leaky sinks, ajar doors, flee infestations, broken heater, and peeling paint. No, I will definately not be missing this place.

My Two Worlds

A-Minus: 1 Month, 5 Days

It's difficult pretending not to care. Partners and project managers zip by my office with faxes. New engineers pop their heads in with questions. Office Services delivers boxes, Information Services installs patches on my computer, my supervisor reviews my timecard, and all the while nobody here has even heard of Gilad Shalit.

I'm checking headlines every few hours, hoping we'll get him back. I go to shul.
"Heard we got twenty bad guys last night," Pinchas tells me.
"Yeah, and they hit one of the bomb factories," I add.
We're both middle east news junkies.

But then we both go back to America, where nobody cares. And I'm getting tired of the double-life.

Camp BBQ

The barbecues continue! Been making the most out of July. This is my third barbecue in the last month. This time, it was for the Camp Gan Israel kids, and a bunch of us Chabad regulars heard that there would be burgers so we just happened to show up.

Flame broiled.

Art Zeidman, can't help being gabbai.

I decided to go low-carb.

The kinderlach at camp.

Their adoring parents.

Cousin Joe on his recumbant bicycle.


Pinchas (Paul) with Planet Israel (Ephraim)

Summary of Progress

Making progress, moving forward.

1. Finally got my 2nd computer up and running last night. It's almost ready for me to sell. Meanwhile, people keep buying my junk from what they see on Craigslist and my Website.
2. Took down my old word processor (it's basically a glorified typewriter with a monitor and memory.) Pulled up some old files that were in its memory from my high school years. My writing has certainly improved. I'll need to print those out so I can save them before I erase the thing.
3. Going through all my old records (car, medical, tax, etc.) trying to figure out what to get rid of and what to scan. Can't get rid of that old shredder just yet.
4. Got my 3rd computer up and running and ready to sell.
5. Set up boxes for shipment. Some boxes go to my folks' house up north, some directly to Israel.
6. Loaded up the car with stuff to bring by goodwill. I thought about salvation army, but I don't know if there's a problem giving to an organization which encourages proselytizing. Not that I have a problem with them, it's just a halachic (Jewish law) question I'm too lazy to ask.


And that's not to mention my having to do the usual stuff. You know, do the laundry, make dinner, clean the house, and all the other things necessary to maintain the facade of being a fully functional member of society.

Visa Issue Settled

I finally got my passport back from the Israeli consulate today, for the second time. Now, they have at last spelled my name correctly. I am Ephraim Aryeh again.  And so at last, all is right with the world. Or at least my paperwork.

In the mean time, I'm still waiting to actually receive my grant from Nefesh B'Nefesh. Emailed them and they said I might not get it until I'm actually on the other side of the pond. Ah, well, I've got plenty of other things to take care of for now.

Happy Independence Day!

I will be spending my independence day off... working! Actually, I woke up at 5:30 AM, instead of my usual 6:30 AM, so I just got up, did the morning thing, davenned, and came straight to work at 7AM. I'm trying to make up 8 hours that I lost during my Southern California Adventure, so I decided to work 8 hours extra this week. Worked 1-1/2 hours extra yesterday, so if I work 6-1/2 hours today, that makes 8 hours. So I can be out of here at 1:30 and still have the rest of the day free.

Anyway, the Craigslist ads and website sales are doing quite well. Sold my media cabinet last night. That's the last of the major furniture except the bed and dresser, but I'm keeping those until the last couple of weeks while I'm using them.

I've had some debate with myself as to how to move my oil paintings. I've got four of them, about three feet by four feet. That's HUGE, and I can't trust the post office to handle them. They also happen to be worth thousands of dollars (one of of the perks of having an artist for a grandmother.) I finally decided to just take them off the canvas, roll them up, and stick them in a mailing tube. Yeah, it's not the best solution, but any other method is going to cost an arm and a leg, and I need my arms and legs for other things. So I've spent my last two nights picking the staples out of the canvas, ever so careful not to damage the canvas itself. I'm still a bit nervous about damaging the paint by rolling up the canvas, but I've talked to a professional (my friend Miriam in Toronto) and she says that there is no problem rolling them. So it's on her head if they are damaged. And that's enough to keep me busy from 1:30 today till bed time.

Discouragement

A-Minus: 1 Month, 1 Week, 5 Days

By far the most frustrating issue surrounding my upcoming aliyah is neither the endless reams of paperwork nor the bottomless pit of boxes to pack. It’s the constant discouragement I’ve received from friends and relatives, the very people I trust and respect. I first encountered the characteristic distaste many Israelis have for their country during my year and a half living there, many of whom made it crystal clear that they would like nothing better than to get out of the country as soon as possible. I slowly came to understand that this self-abasement was partially a consequence of the hardships of life in Israel coupled with post-Zionism’s value-free emptiness. But the attitude is also a disingenuous pessimism imported from the slums of eastern Europe hardened with a soldier’s toughness. Most Israelis moan endlessly about the good life they could be living in America, but they stay.

"You’re crazy for living here. What's wrong with you?" they would ask me.
"Well, you live here too."
"Yeah, but I don’t have a choice. I was born here."
"You’re forty seven. How many chances do you need to get out?"
"What?," they would ask in mock offence, "Are you calling me crazy?"

Of course, Israelis are still Israelis even in America, so I began hearing the same sort of talk from expatriates the minute I landed in Walnut Creek. "You’ll find a girl, settle down, and forget about Israel," or, "When you were there before, it was just a honeymoon, you won’t last a year after you move back." Over the last few years, one by one, they’ve learned to live with my "insanity."

But I couldn’t imagine that the fulfillment of the commandment to live in the land of Israel could generate such resistance from my own religious leaders here in America. When mentioning my aliyah intentions to my rabbis here, I’ve often received the same repetitive Yiddish refrain, "Mann tracht und gott lacht!" A man plans, and God laughs. In other words, don’t get your hopes up, you’ll probably fail. Imagine if a local Jew came to them announcing his intention to keep kosher, only to be brushed off with the same brusque terseness, "Ha ha, yeah right, I’ll believe it when I see it."

And they’re not the only ones. Now it’s my relatives in Israel too. "Why are you coming here? The government is just going to kick you out of your house like they did in Gush Katif," one cousin warns me, bringing up the bitter memory of the destruction of the Jewish community of Gaza last year. "You know," a friend tells me, "the mitzvah of living in the land of Israel is not obligatory. I mean, it’s good to do, but you’ve got a whole life here in America. You shouldn’t give that all up for some fantasy of a future."

Over time, I’ve come to forgive their resistance as a sort of defense mechanism, not for me but for themselves. There’s a fear behind their words that I’ll come back as a jaded realist. That if they were somehow involved in sowing great expectations in my mind, then it will cost them our friendship when reality causes those dreams to whither and die. But they can rest at ease, because there may be some truth in the Yiddish that Man plans and God laughs, but it’s important to remember the Aramaic expression that God helps every man on his way. That whatever goal a person strives for in life, God provides opportunities to accomplish it. And as I tape up the last box of books for shipping, I know God is on my side. So who’s laughing now, eh?

2nd of July BBQ

Went to a barbecue with my old college friend Mike Karatov, who happens to live about ten minutes from me. The 4th of July falls on a Tuesday this year, so we had to improvise on the date.

My stomach seems to have expanded drastically after six hamburgers.

Sarah and Mike

Summer is Here

A-Minus: 1 Month, 2 Weeks, 1 Day. Approximately.

For the last few days I've been on my heat wave diet. That's where I put off cooking and eating because it's so hot out that if I were to try to prepare dinner indoors, I might end up cooking myself instead of my dinner. So I wait for the planet to cool down slightly, and by the time it's cool enough to eat, all I have the energy to make are some steamed vegetables.

Temperatures were in the mid 100's this week. That's Farenheit, of course. The up side is that I should be loosing weight due to the incredible temperatures. But the down side is that any caloric savings I experience is neutralized by the fact that it's too hot to run, so I burn less calories as well. This is all some sort of subversive Neo-Con Zionist plot to cause global warming.

Meanwhile I've been going through all of my old clothes to sort through what will end up where. I keep finding perfectly good suitcases next to the dumpster, so many that I have extras now. I have an upcoming trip to visit the folks up north, and I'm thinking I'll load up one suitcase with clothes for my trip and then just leave it there, so I'll never need to pack another suitcase for my visits there, I'll just have clothes waiting.

Other clothes will go to Israel, but I want to take mosly new stuff with me when I go so I won't have to worry about clothes shopping for a while. Israel doesn't usually carry my size anyway. And the rest; my estranged grandfather's pimpin' silk shirts, snazzy jackets that were slick and trendy fifteen years ago, and shirts big enough to house me back in the days when I was 60 lbs fatter? Goodwill, here I come.

Also, sent off my first M-bag today. I managed to stuff 65 lbs of books into one of those little canvas sacks! It was so heavy that the postal employees couldn't lift it. They made me come behind the front counter and put it in the right pile. It should take 4-6 weeks to get there on the slow boat 'round the horn, and I'll be there in about 7 weeks, so I should have some good reading material waiting for me when I arrive.

More Visa Garbage

I consulted with the Israeli consulate this morning, and they consoled me on my connundrum concerning my misspelled name, and the consequent complications I'm having in consumating my aliyah.

How'se that for an opening sentence?

In plainer talk, since they misspelled my middle name as "Louise" instead of "Louis," I have to send my visa back through the process again and get a brand new one.

Notary to self: Get Apostille

A-Minus: 1 Month 2 Weeks 5 Days

Ever heard of an Apostille? Neither had I until a few weeks ago. Sounds like some sort of amphibious French cuisine. But no, it's actually something like a notary. Most civilized countries and Israel signed a treaty to recognize each other's Apostille stamps on official documents. These stamps are needed on birth certificates of immigrants in Israel who want to marry. I do, in fact, plan on getting married some day, and have a few minor details, like getting my Apostille and finding a girl, to work out.
Figure if a notary public can give a notary, he can give an Apostille too, right? Wrong. But he sent me on the right path, telling me that only the California Secretary of State can actually issue the Apostille, so I have to send my birth certificate to Sacramento. But then I learned that I need to have certified copy of my birth certificate which is less than five years old, which I don't have.
Hunting online, I finally found the form, which requires... a notary. So I went back to the notary, who notarized the form, to get the copy of my birth certificate, to get the Apostille. And all over my lunch hours.

Almost Famous

I received an email from Nefesh B'Nefesh. Turns out they have some publicity coming their way, and they wanted to know if they can use me as a subject for an interview. Of course! I told them.

But then I started thinking about it. I haven't even given notice to my employer about my plans, and it might mess up my schedule (and look vey low class) if they were to find out about my plans via the media. Also, I have some, eh, other plans, which you, my dear readers, will find out about in good time, and being publicized would throw a wrench in those gears as well. So I quickly wrote them back and told them to hold off for a month.

I've been spending my Sunday sitting here working, trying to make up the hours I missed when I went on my So-Cal vacation. At the same time, I'm getting all my computers up and running to sell. The place is getting emptier and emptier. Someone just came by and bought my fish tank ($95.) In a few hours, someone is coming for my computer desk, and someone else wants my box of screws.

Fellow Walnut Creeker and Oleh Chadash Adam Neril came into town for a visit for shabbes. We had an interesting discussion on living expenses, and it looks like the cost of living is a bit lower than I thought it would be. I should have sufficient savings to last about a year, G-d willing, once I get there.

As I ramble on, it's important to note that a soldier has been kidnapped by Hamas in Israel, two others killed. We should all daven hard that our kidnapped brother be returned to his family safely.

Sellin' and Packin' Goes On and On

A Minus: 1 Month, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

I sold my antique mirror a couple of nights ago.

Last night, someone came over for my futon. When she showed up in her Chrysler sedan, I knew we were in for some work. I had to disassemble the whole futon, stuff the components into my hatchback, drive it over to her place, haul it all upstairs, and reassemble it. Grand total, it took me about an hour and a half. Fortunately, she paid me an extra $50 for the trouble.

Meanwhile, I'm packing up all my books into M-Bags. M-bags are these huge canvas sacks you get at the post office for shipping books and printed material. So far I've got about 150 lbs of books. Would you believe it's cheaper to ship M-bags to Israel than Canada?

Speaking of Canada, I bought my tickets for my flight to Toronto. I'll come into town on Sunday, August 13th, hang out there for a couple of days, then proceed to catch my Nefesh B'Nefesh flight on August 15th.

And the drum beats on...

My So-Cal Adventure

A-Minus: 1 Month, 3 Weeks, 4 Days

Work has been quite stressful lately. Industry is experiencing a dire shortage of electrical engineers lately, so our company hired a subcontractor to help us with a job we're working on. The problem is, they are all Chinese and speak English at about a second grade level, so it's been very difficult coordinating mechanical and electrical issues, and I keep getting busted for design mistakes. Very frustrating. And they (my company) also seem to have great expectations that I am able to do tasks in which I have no experience, so it's doubly frustrating.

Add to that the burden of selling all my junk over the next month, and the stress has been piling up.

So I decided to get out of Dodge for a while. I took Friday and Monday off and drove down to S. Barbara (where I went to school) to see my old friends at Chabad of S. Barbara, and had a great time.

See the pictures below:

(Future Rabbi) Chaim Loschak. He looks pretty young, right? Looks can be deceiving. The 11-year-old fought me to a draw in chess.

Rabbi Loschak and his son Avi at Havdallah. Yes, they make Havdallah on Bud Light.

Havdallah. Notice the big black carbon smudge on the ceiling from decades of Havdallahs in the same spot.

Me with Lloyd, the S. Barbara resident charchiturist, chess master, and 60's drug experience storyteller.

Lloyd draws his Charchiture of me.

A close-up on the charchiture.

Making my grand entrance at Ventura to visit Christopher and Alicia. Yes, I'm still driving the rust rocket after a theft, a failed break-in, and innumerable bangs, scrapes, and collisions. You can see the sunroof where thieves tried to pry their way in with a crowbar. I had sealed the cracks with duct tape. Notice the streamers of duct tape peeling off the sunroof and trailing over the rear window.

My ex-roommate Christopher and his wife Alicia. And I remember when they had just met. Notice Christopher's Christ-like hairdo. Last year the look was ZZ-top.

The Stubbans took me to the Baron Herzog kosher winery in Oxnard. They even had a kosher restaurant, but it was too expensive to even think about.

Wine tasting at the Baron Herzog winery.

My So-Cal Adventure

Welding one of Christopher's projects. In the background you can see the cart that he's transforming into a rolling pizza oven.


At the beach in Ventura. The force of the waves was very effective at shoving seawater up my ears. Christopher didn't seem to share my problem.

A bizzare-looking rock formation at Morro Bay.

Seagulls Roosting in Morro Rock.

Morro Rock and Morro Bay.

On the jetty at Morro Bay.

I came to Hearst castle while driving up highway 1. This photo is taken from the bottom. I looked around the museum, but didn't want to take a tour, as it would have taken 2 hours and cost $25. Besides, it's the sort of thing that is better to do if you're with someone else.

The Bixby Bridge (or as I used to call it as a child, the Bigot Bridge) near Big Sur.

Pulling Up Anchor

A Minus: 2 Months, 6 Days

Leaving Walnut Creek is a far more difficult experience than I thought it would be. I've seen countless Israelis who leave Israel for America for a couple of years to make a little bit of extra money. It's a perfectly reasonable thing to do considering the unaffordable housing costs and tiny salaries in Israel. "Od shanah achat. Just one more year," they always tell themselves. Which turns into two years. And before they know it, they've been here 30 years, and have become so acculturated and hooked on the prosperity of America that they wouldn't be able to go back even if they wanted to.

I promised myself I wouldn't let that happen, that I would do my best not to grow addicted to the ease of life here. It wasn't such a challenge, and I have no issues about leaving the prosperity I found in Walnut Creek. Well, that's not true, I'll definitely feel the loss, but the burden is not insurmountable. My student loans are almost paid off, but I can still hear the little voice in my head, "Ephraim, now that you're out of debt, you have an excellent credit rating. Why not buy a house? Just as an investment for a year. Think how much better off you'll be when you finally do go. Od shanah achat." But the voice doesn't sway me.

For the last few years, I've been quietly planning my aliyah. I figured that when my moment finally came, I would be ecstatic. But, while I am happy, my emotions are mixed. What I didn't expect was to become so close to a community. I sit at the Shabbes table, look around at my friends, and wonder which ones I won't see again after two months. What will happen to my little kinderlach at the Hebrew School? Who will buy the sodas for the shul? Lift the heavy boxes of siddurim? Wolf down the leftover cheesecake from Shavuos?
But when I think of staying, my mind retches at the prospect. How am I going to meet someone and start a family way out here? What future do I really have here, besides work, work, and more work? No, I have to go.

And Gabi is going. He was never an "Od shanah achat" Israeli. Having left Israel 25 years ago, he made no promises of impending return. But then he decided to move to Florida. Mishane makom mishane mazal. A change of place brings a change of fortune. Well, as long as he was moving, why not bring his stuff to Florida, set up there, and go visit Israel for a few months. Pretty soon, Florida was just somewhere to store stuff, and he's now moving back full-time to Tel Aviv. We celebrated his aliyah with a barbecue last night (see attached pictures.)
And my own aliyah approaches rapidly.



My aliyah visa finally arrived from the Israeli consulate yesterday. This will allow me to land and immediately declare citizenship. It's actually an amusing piece of work. For those who read Hebrew, notice they spell San Francisco as San Frantzisco. Thought that was cute. Less cute was the fact that they misspelled my middle name.

Selling stuff has been going well now that I've found a successful strategy. I simply post everything I have for sale, all 150 items, on Craigslist on Friday afternoon, telling them to come by on Sunday morning at 10AM. Motzei Shabbat (Saturday night), I check email and answer any questions people have. Usually I have about 40 messages waiting for me, all of them signed by people promising to be there at 10 AM sharp, pleading with me to please hold their favorite item as they just can't live without it. Of these 40 people, probably five will actually show up. Of the five, maybe three buy things. I typically bring work home with me so I can have something to do (and build up extra hours) while I'm sitting around waiting. Then, I repost everything Monday morning, and Wednesday morning, to keep the ads current. Little by little, I've sold quite a bit over the last three weeks. It's to the point where I'm starting to move things into boxes. My apartment feels lonely without my stuff in it, but I think that really it's just exposing an emptiness that was already there.

Lag B'Omer Pictures

As promised, here are some pictures from Chabad of Walnut Creek's Lag B'omer Barbecue (only a couple of weeks out of date.)

Me with Ezra Klug, our chipper pick-yourself-up-from-your-own-bootstraps self-made man (and survivor.)

Rabbi and some guy I've never met before.

Me and Ariel, our local Golani Brigade veteran, Jewelry Salesman, and full-time snappy dresser.

My cousin Lee.

Rabbi tries to deliver a discourse on the deeper significance of our barbecue. Of course, he made the mistake of serving the food first, so he lost a lot of his audience.

Visa Papers Arrived

A-Minus: 2 Months, 3 weeks, 2 days

My visa paperwork arrived on Friday. I put it off all weekend, but started on it today. Gotta get four more passport photos. It sometimes seems like EVERYONE has my passport photos these days. Next time I'm just going to print a few dozen and be done with it.

The items they requested are:
-My passport
-4 Passport pictures
-4 copies of my application for immigrant's visa
-Processing fee of $8
-2 copies of a letter of recommentdation from my aliyah office signed by my shlichah
-3 copies of my declaration (this is a declaration of intent to make aliyah)

So it's all done now and off in the mail. In about one month, my passport should come back with a real immigrant's visa stamp in it.

The countdown starts now!

Morbidly Amusing Warning Signs

I was sitting here at work, bored stiff while reviewing a pump submittal, when I came across these morbidly amusing warning signs.


How a shaft key can cut off your fingers is beyond me, but it makes for an amusing illustration. He's still got eight more, I suppose.

Well, I guess we all gotta go some time, but this fellah picked a, um, unique method of collecting on his life insurance.

I didn't know fingers could do that.

Notice how the fluid is under such high pressure that the spray from the leak is powerful enough to break the victim's skin, poisoning him from the inside.

Gut Shabbes everyone.

Lag B'Omer

A-Minus: 3 Months

I finally got a hold of my shlichah last night, who just returned from Israel and is going on vacation for a week tomorrow. It turns out they had the wrong address for me, which is why my visa application never arrived. She corrected the mistake and sent me another application last night, so hopefully this one will make it. Now I have to get together four passport photos, fill out the visa application, and fill out another medical form answering questions such as "Are you crazy?" and "Are you dying of cancer?" I then send the originals back to my shlichah. I send copies to the consulate along with my passport, passport photos, and a check for $10, and I keep copies of the paperwork for myself. If all goes as planned, which it seldom does, I will then receive my passport with my visa stamp in it after 3 weeks. Then, I send copies of the visa stamp to my shlichah and to Nefesh B'Nefesh.

With my aliyah business out of the way, I was free to go to the Chabad of Walnut Creek Lag B'Omer barbecue! I'm back on weight watchers, trying to lose a few pounds before I hit the dating scene (wink-wink nudge-nudge know-what-I-mean) but I had to obey my special rule of totally ignoring counting my weight watchers points during a simchah (happy event, holiday, celebration, etc.) Well, instead of my normal seven ounces of turkey with vegetables, I ended up eating two hamburgers, a hot dog, and about a pound of chicken. And that's not to mention all the cole slaw I shoveled down. I felt a bit guilty going off the diet, but there's nothing like dead animal flesh to liven the spirit. Took some photos, which I forgot to bring with me so I'll post them later (tomorrow or something.)

I've also started running again on the ankle I sprained last October. I can feel it's weaker, but at least it functions.

My continuously running internet garage sale is going, um, okay. I have been running my ads on Craig's list every day, and I receive tons of responses. Usually about ten people per day tell me that they're coming over that night to pick up something, but maybe one of them will actually show. It's frustrating because I have to be sitting there at home, since I told my customers I'll be there, and then nobody shows and it was all a waste. It's not as if I would be doing anything else anyway, but it's frustrating to feel tied down, like I couldn't leave if I wanted to.

Selling Goes Slowly

I set up the internet garage sale. I promised to be home from 1 to 5 PM for anyone who was interested. I sat and waited and waited. But nobody came by.

But I got a lot of work done while I was waiting, so it wasn't a total loss. This morning I checked my inbox and saw that a bunch of people had written me offering to buy certain items I had listed, so I gave them all directions and told them to meet me at my apartrment at 6 PM tonight.

We'll see who actually shows up.

Also, special thanks to fellow blogger (or in her case, blogress) emahs of Movin On Up, who emailed me the application form for my visa. I still haven't heard from my shlichah about the visa issues.

The Internet Garage Sale is UP!

After great effort and hours of work, my virtual garage sale website is finally up and running!

http://www.virtualsale.150m.com

Check it out!

Flight Date Set

A Minus: 3 Months, 4 Days

A few minutes ago I received an email from Nefesh B'Nefesh. They confirmed my flight date as Tuesday, August 15th, which happened to be exactly my target date. Excellent!

Last year, almost all flights left from JFK in New York, but there were so many Canadians making aliyah as well that they decided to have two syncronous flights, one leaving JFK and one leaving New York City, which landed in Tel Aviv simultaneously amid great fanfare. This year, NBN 0pened a new office in London, so there will be three simultaneous flights landing in Tel Aviv. What's next, Australia?

This year there are so many people who want to go that the New York flight is overbooked, so we West Coast folks are being shifted over to the Toronto flight. Fortunately, my friends Meshullam and Miriam, who helped me so much with my Hebrew, later moved to Toronto, so I'm going to try to swing in for a quick visit if possible.

The latest issue to deal with is my Visa, which NBN requires before approving me for my aliyah flight. My shlichah told me she would mail me the application forms for the visa, but they never arrived. When I tried to call her today, I got a message saying she's out for a week or so. I called the Los Angeles consulate and they told me that there is some sort of "Booking form" that I need to send them before they will send me the visa application. I don't think it's a problem. Then again, I have no idea what they're talking about, so maybe it is. Just one more thing.

Operation: Trash Heap Continues

A Minus: 3 Months, 1 Week

Operation: Trash Heap is proceeding apace. Yesterda I finally finished photographing everything I own. And I do mean everything. I've spent the last day just working on editing my photographs and putting together a very basic website. I'm hoping to get it online before the weekend so I can get started disposing of useless objects.

Unfortunately, I received back all those books I sold on ebay. I had shipped them last Thursday, only to have them returned to my doorstep Saturday morning. It turns out the US Post Office increased the rates for media mail but did not bother to modify the rates shown on their website. Now I have to explain to 40 irate customers why their shipment of books will be late. Reason #434 to avoid ebay.

Today I received another call from my Nefesh B'Nefesh contact. She managed to get a hold of me this time, and we talked for a while. There was nothing substantive, she just wanted to get a general feel for my plans and where I'm going to live, to make sure I'm not making any serious mistakes. It's comforting to have a contact in Israel already, even if I didn't learn any particularly new information.

Ebay Exhaustion

Every time I sell on Ebay, I promise myself that I'll never do it again. Ebay seems like such a dream; millions of web surfers with billions of dollars, all looking for new and exciting ways to be separated from their money. And all you have to do is put your item up for sale and wait for the money to come in, then you ship it out and you're done. But every time I play the game, my ebay dreams turn to ebay nightmares.

This time, I had to sell 40 of my books, and I thought, "Well, it can't be that bad."

In reality, you have to do the following:

1. Scan each book cover
2. Crop the scanned photographs to show only the book cover
3. Find a description. Sometimes ebay doesn't have a description, so you have to go to Amazon.com. Sometimes even Amazon doesn't have a description, so you have to write one yourself. Usually I just type a few paragraphs from the inside of the dust jacket.
4. Decide on pricing.

If you can get through one book in 12 minutes, which is really fast, you can be done with 40 books in 8 hours.

The next day, you have to do the following:

4. Upload the photographs you took
5. Set up the auctions
6. Run the auctions

Assuming you are ultra-fast, steps 4-6 take at least 6 minutes per book, which is a minimum of four hours. Auctions usually last seven days, so you are constantly answering questions from ebay bidders like, "What's the condition of my item?" and "How long does shipping take?"

Once your auction finally finishes, you now have to collect the money and ship the books. This involves:

7. Sending invoices
8. Chasing after reluctant customers
9. Generate a list of names/addresses and a list of the books to be shipped to each.

Ebay helps to generate invoices and track auctions, so that part only takes an hour or so.

Then comes the hard part; the shipping. This involves:

10. Trying to stuff the books into manilla envelopes.
11. Once you realize that the books don't fit into the envelopes, driving out to the liquor store or back to the office to find some emty boxes.
12. Tear apart the house to find tape and scissors.
13. Weigh, address, stamp, and apply the requisite postage to each box.
14. Load boxes into the car.
15. Drive to the post office during business hours to leave the boxes full of books on the post office's desk (since they don't allow you to ship packages from home any more, thank you Muhammad Atta.)

The above takes approximately 4-8 hours, depending on how well you've planned.

And now, to count my money. My apartment is a mess, snippets of tape, bubble wrap, and carboard everywhere, but I've earned a paycheck. Aaaah.. $150 big ones in my paypal account. $3.75 per book, which isn't bad considering I was going to throw them out. But wait! Now comes the last step:

16. Pay your fees.

Ebay charges about $.70 per listing, plus they take a cut of your profit. That's $28.
Ebay also takes a cut of the final sale price. That adds up to $20.
Then Paypal takes a cut, about 5%, for performing the service of borrowing your money. This adds up to $7.
The cost of manilla envelopes, bubble wrap, and tape comes out to be about $15, and that's being conservative.
And don't for get all the money you spent on shipping, about $35

That leaves you with about $45. So, for 40 books you're never going to read again, that's not so bad, right? But, think about 8 hours of prep time, 4 hours running your auctions, followed by 6 hours packing and shipping, you're talking about 18 hours.

And now, we calculate our wage:
$45/18 hours = $2.50 per hour.

That's less than half of minimum wage.

Now I'm no facist, but I think that they may have been on to something with those heaps of flaming books.

Visa: It's Everywhere You Want to Be

A minus: 3 Months, 1 Week and 5 Days

I finally got a hold of my new shlichah (Israeli aliyah helper) yesterday. I had been calling my old shlichah, Shiri, who I met at the consulate in San Francisco last September to open my Tik Aliyah (aliyah file), to check about what I should do for my visa. After receiving no answer for some time, I heard from Noah (female), the new shlichah, who informed me that Shiri had left the job to have a baby.

Normally, an American landing in Israel can simply show his or her passport and have it stamped with a tourist visa which is good for 3 months. When I lived in Israel I met several semi-permanent "tourists" who had been in Israel for years. Every three months they would simply drive to the Egyptian border, cross over, then cross back to receive a brand new 3-month visa stamp upon re-entry.

The aliyah visa is a different story. The aliyah visa becomes necessary once in Israel in order to receive one's Teudat Zehut (personal identity card.) In order to receive a visa for aliyah, you first have to be approved for aliyah (which I am.) The visa is only valid for six months, so I had to wait until now to get it to avoid expiration before my departure date. When I last talked with Shiri, she had told me that I need to physically show up at the consulate, which would mean a trip out to San Francisco and missing at least half a day's work. But yesterday, talking to Noah, it sounds like it can all be done by mail. She sent me the paperwork to fill out, so now all that's left is to fill it out, mail the paperwork, four passport photos, and my passport to the consulate, and get it back. At that point, both my shlichah and Nefesh B'Nefesh want copies of the visa for their own purposes.

And the process moves forward...

Rental Issues

As some may remember, my original target date for Aliyah was June 1, 2006, which is only 29 days away. Knowing this, I signed up last year at this time for a lease which would end on June 1st. Unfortunatly, now that I've delayed my aliyah by 2 1/2 months, I'm stuck with all this junk and no lease for the summer. I've asked the management repeatedly if I can extend my lease and now I'm just waiting to hear back, but they haven't been responsive for the last week or so. It's a catch 22. I'm nervous about having to leave in a month and that I won't photograph my stuff and sell it in time, which keeps me awake at night, which means that by the end of the day when it's time to photograph my stuff, I'm so tired that I can't get much done, which means I fall behind schedule, which makes me nervous, which... well, you get the point.


In other aliyah news, I received a phonecall from Nefesh B'Nefesh yesterday. They just wanted to talk to me about my plans and where I'm planning on living, and really just giving me some individual attention to make sure I'm not making any false assumptions or missteps. Meanwhile, I mailed back my Nefesh B'Nefesh contract last Friday. The deal is that Nefesh B'Nefesh gives you a financial package which starts out as a loan without payments. If the Oleh (immigrant) remains in Israel for over three years, the loan becomes a grant. I will also receive a $100 travel voucher to get myself to JFK International Airport. It will still cost me a bit to get there, but the $100 definately helps.

The next step on my aliyah checklist is to get my visa stamped at the Israeli consulate in San Francisco. Stay tuned!

The Blog it is a Changin'

A-Minus: 3 Months, 2 Weeks, 0 Days

Up until now, I've been using this blog as a dumping ground for all of my writings and emails. A sort of online storage site. No more!

Things are moving quickly towards aliyah, and I want to keep my friends and family (and strangers on the internet who wander in) up to date without flooding their email inboxes, so I've decided to start posting more regularly on this site.

So let's get started...

With the PE exam out of the way, I have commenced "Operation Trash Heap"

Code Name: Operation Trash Heap
Mission Objective: Terminate with extreme prejudice all unneccessary or bulky items. Reduce posessions to an amount suitable to fit into two checked bags and one carry-on luggage. 70 lbs maximum. This message will self-destruct in 30 seconds.

I posted all my books on ebay for sale last week, and the auctions will be ending in the next few hours. I hope to make a few bucks, but it took me all day to actually scan and post the pictures, so I'm not sure I'll make a profit. Ebay is a vast money trap. It's exciting to post and watch your auctions increase, but when you calculate the hours you spent writing the ads (it took me all Sunday last week) and then compare to the amount I make per hour at work, it really just doesn't add up. Still, its good to know that my books are going to loving homes, and won't simply be dumped into a recycling bin.

Right now I'm sitting at my desk, feeling awfully sore and tired, just glad to be sitting. You see, yesterday, I began the process of photographing everything I own, since I have to sell it. I'm going to set up an internet garage sale, which will consist of a website presenting pictures of all my fine hardwood furniture, antiques, computers, and other worthless junk I'm trying to offload. I will then advertise the website on craigslist. Potential buyers will be able to contact me via email so we can arrange a time for them to pick up the stuff they want to buy. That's the idea, at least.

So, yesterday morning I cleaned up and got the place looking spiffy. My grandfather came over to watch and videotape the event. I went through the entire apartment, photographing everything. I began at 11:00 AM and didn't stop until about 7:30 PM, constantly lifting and moving and photographing. I moved with great speed and agility, but even after 8 1/2 hours, I was only able to photograph approximately 73% of my posessions. I'll have to pick it up some time later this week.

Today, I'm so tired I just want to sit at my desk and work on my engineering drawings and submittals. Fortunately, there's a ton of work to be done, and now there's even more since I've been sitting here and not doing it.

There's lots more to write, lots more going on with my visa, Nefesh B'Nefesh, and my future plans, but I'll save it for my future posts. Stay tuned!

There's Good News and There's Bad News...

A-Minus: 3 Months, 3 Weeks, 1 Day

The Professional Engineering (PE) exam has been sitting like a great boulder in the road of my life for the last year or so. I’ve been spending all my weekends and any free time on weeknights since January either studying for or fretting about it. Well, I finally took the exam last Friday, and I feel that I was at least able to approach and try to solve about 90% of the problems. Whether or not I got them right is another question entirely. The exam is eight hours long and given twice yearly, but because it requires three years of hands-on experience and because I’m planning on making aliyah soon, I only get one shot at passing it. Waiting in line, the woman in front of me told me that this was her 10th attempt, which didn’t help my nerves. As for me, I won’t know the results for another 13 weeks.

I spent Shabbes alternately celebrating and sulking over the exam, just glad to be through with it either way. This morning I woke up, looked around my place, and realized that I’ve got less than four months to get rid of everything I own. I’ll start by selling what I can on ebay, then I’ll sell the big stuff on an internet garage sale.

In the mean time I’ve been moving along with my aliyah plans step by step. My application to Nefesh B’Nefesh (the American aliyah assistance organization) is in and they sent me a list of flight dates from which to choose. Luckily, my target date, August 15th, was on the list, which made the decision easy. My plan of action after landing has been to stay at Merkaz Hamagshimim in Jerusalem, which is a sort of dormitory specifically for new immigrants. Residents pay about $250 per month for a room with a bathroom and kitchenette, and the rent also covers city taxes, water, and electricity. It’s an incredibly good deal considering that rent alone in Jerusalem can run $500/month before taxes and utilities. In exchange for this discount, residents volunteer with the center as well as with outside activities for about 20 hours per month. I sent in my application on time and went through a phone interview two weeks ago, which I felt went well. I’ve been planning to spend a year there, take six months to study at ulpan Beit Hanoar Ha’Ivri, an intensive language course in downtown Jerusalem, and then to spend the next six months studying in a Hebrew-speaking yeshiva.

Once I returned from the PE exam, numb and tired but otherwise in one piece, I finally had a chance to sift through my backlog of mail. I received a reply to my application from Nefesh B’Nefesh, and they will be giving me a bit of financial assistance. It’s less than I had hoped for but far more than I expected, and will definitely be helpful. Then I turned on my computer and checked my email. A letter from the director of Merkaz Hamagshimim was sitting in my inbox, and it looks like my application was…. Rejected!

Moi? Rejected?

So now my aliyah plans are a mess. I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to stay in Jerusalem for a year paying normal rent, and there really isn’t anything outside of Merkaz Hamagshimim which offers such a great deal. I also don’t want to jump into the working world without having a chance to learn the language properly, so I’ve been looking forward to some time off to focus on Hebrew.

But this is one of the middot (personality traits) I’ve been working on fixing lately, not getting myself flustered and upset when Hashem throws a wrench in my plans. Rafi and Galila (cousins) in Jerusalem said I could stay to them for a few months, although I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I will also still have some savings and the Nefesh B’Nefesh financial assistance, so I’ve got to start working on a new plan. I still have 115 days, and suggestions are welcome.

Starbucks’ Battlefield of the Soul

A-Minus: 4 Months, 3 Weeks

I’ve sampled every Seattle’s Best, Starbucks, Barnes & Noble and Borders in greater Walnut Creek over the last few months while studying for the Professional Engineering exam. Yes, the library is quiet and there’s always a table, but the coffee shop has a vibe that I just can’t find anywhere else. I may be a pencil-pushing calculator puncher, but at the very least I can pretend to be a real coffee house intellectual.

Happening to land at Starbucks this time, I make the usual survey of the flora and fauna; 20 species of coffee, 5 members of the cheesecake family, and an assortment of unclassified cookies and crackers. None of it is kosher. After sifting through the chilled drinks I find a kosher brand of diet root beer. One ninety five. Walnut Creek has a 8.25% sales tax, but that’s only on entrées to be eaten in the store. I crunch the numbers while shuffling forward in line. Let’s see, eight percent times two bucks makes about sixteen cents. If I ask for it to go, they won’t charge me the sales tax. I’ll be sixteen cents richer when I leave for Israel in five months.

I reach the front counter and instantly snap out of my mental calculations. There she is, standing behind the counter looking prim and bright as sunshine, decked in her Starbucks apron. This one looks different from the others. She’s perky and chipper but modest, I wonder if…

“For here or to go?” she asks.

“For here.” Darn!

“You know, I’m Jewish too.”

I’m still reeling from my loss of sixteen cents, and now she’s really thrown me for a loop. How could she know that I’m Jewish unless… oh yeah, I wear a big yarmulke on my head and the last name on the credit card I handed her gives me away.

“Really?” I respond, “Wow.” A witty, sophisticated reply. Score!

“Yeah, but I’m not involved. I was stuck here on Yom Kippur. I don’t even know where any of the local synagogues are.”

Hmmm… she’s not observant, but it’s not her fault. She’s certainly not hostile about religion.

“Well, I’m involved with the local Chabad,” I inform her, ”Go west on Newell, under the freeway, first house on the left.”

Which is met with a neutral, “Oh.” She’s looking for small talk, not driving directions.

I swipe my debit card and punch in my PIN.

“PROCESSING……”

More awkward silence.

She’s smiling at me with those “Aren’t you going to ask me for my number?” eyes, and in a previous life, my next question would be, “Want to go out for coffee some time?” Which, of course, I would have to bumblingly retract since we’re already in a coffee shop. But I don’t do things that way any more. That’s the distant past, before I began the religious journey. I yearn to tell her about it. To download the last six years of my life, everything I’ve seen and learned, into her mind.

I wish I could tell her, “I think you look like a great girl and I would like to get to know you better. Here’s how it can work. First, you’ll find someone in whom you can confide, a Rabbi, teacher, or a trusted friend, and tell them what you’re looking for. I’ll do the same. Then they will compare notes and decide whether we’re appropriate for each other. I’m sure they’ll agree that we are. Then, we’ll go on three dates. But they won’t be the kind of dates you’re used to, in smoke-filled night clubs or dark movie theaters. We’ll meet in a well-lit hotel lobby or a busy café. And we’ll sit and talk. The first few dates, we’ll talk about nonsense, like what kind of music you listen to, whom do you know that I know, what do you do in your free time, and I’ll give you all sorts of useless information about my life too. Once we get a feel for each other’s personalities, we’ll decide whether we want to keep seeing one another which, of course, we will. We’ll start to talk about what we’re looking for in a life, in a family. And if all goes well, the engagement won’t last more than a few months. And the whole time, I won’t touch you. Not even to shake your hand. And by the way, you should know that in five months I’m moving to a country where you’ve probably never been and definitely don’t speak the language.”

“PROCESSING… CREDIT CARD ACCEPTED”

I’ve gotta say something.

“Well,” I tell her, ”you should come by Chabad some time. Remember, it’s on Newell Street. We start at ten in the morning. Come by at noon for lunch if you want to skip the praying.”

I waddle off to the customer feeding area, where we, the valued patrons of Starbucks, squeeze ourselves into their miniature chairs, trying to keep our books from sliding off their miniature tables. I switch back into calculator mode, trying to lose myself in the exciting world of fluid mechanics. Calculate the lift experienced by a five foot by three foot wing with a ten degree angle of attack. What is the friction coefficient of a two centimeter lead sphere sinking through water? What is the velocity of water passing through four inch schedule 40 steel pipe with a 20 PSI pressure differential?

…and who is that sitting at the table next to mine but the perky cashier?

Focus, man, focus! I’m trying to look at the textbook drawing illustrating how to calculate the drag coefficient of water passing over a cylinder and not at the shapely legs protruding from under the table next to mine.

Her friend, a co-worker, slowly wanders in our direction until he’s close enough to start a conversation with her. I’m filled with a frustrated resignation, swishing the empty flavor of nutra-sweetened diet root beer between my teeth. Can you have competition for a girl when you’ve already quit the game? I drop the pretense and shamelessly eavesdrop. She’s on her break. She’s going to school now. She’s studying for her exams. And now she’s walking back to the counter, her break over, the chance I never really had now lost.
Self control is a great idea when you’re in the yeshiva, and the desire to fulfill a higher calling seems unstoppable after hearing a powerful speaker. But there are moments when I wonder if the commitment to Torah is really worth it, and there are times when my will feels as weak as Jello. But here, in the real world battlefield of a suburban Starbucks, is where the fight is. After all, who knows, maybe she’ll show up at Chabad. And I’ve definitely found my new study spot.

UNPUBLISHED

My stolen car woes turned into a windfall this week! The thieves who stole my car over a month ago had crashed it into a ditch, so it was left with a flat tire and a broken passenger-side window. The insurance company declared it a total and offered me a whopping $3,000 settlement, which is especially nice considering that the blue book value of the car was around $800. I then went to the impound lot where the car was left for dead, covered in plastic and a bit banged up. I paid the $83 salvage value for the wreck, swapped out the spare, started her up, and took her to get new tires, repaired the broken body panels, and replaced the broken window. The long and the short of it is that, after repairs and replacing the tefillin, I came out about ahead by $2K. ANd never mind teh $700 that the insurance company paid to put me in a Cadillac for a month. I took my profit, bought myself a nice shabbes jacket, and put the rest towards my student loans. Gam zu letovah!

In aliyah news, I finally sent out my application to Nefesh B’Nefesh. They called me back with some questions on it, so I know that they’ve got it and are working on it. I have also completed my Hebrew school teaching stint, which was exhausting, time consuming, and very rewarding.

Anyway, I wrote an editorial for the J! (local Jewish paper) which was rejected, or at least I never heard back from them. I don't want it to go completely unread, so I'm attaching it to the bottom of this email.

Writing is a difficult balance because my goal is to swing peoples' opinions, so I want to post in more left-leaning publications, but at the same time, I have to keep my edge. I used works like "Palestinian," even though when you use that word you are automatically swallowing the big lie of this generation. Since most left-leaning people are firm believers in the lie, I had to use it to keep my bearings. I probably shouldn't have used the label "liberal chauvanist" either. If I had been a better writer, I would have been able to make readers reach that conclusion on their own without using a label.

Here goes:

America can Learn from Hamas' Victory

I'll never forget the day I abandoned the left. It was over a decade ago, when the peace process was in full swing, negotiations moved at a fever pitch, and "peace in the middle east" seemed to be just over the horizon. The internet was finally transforming itself from an electronic plaything to a useful tool, and for the first time I could read the daily news from Israel, delivered directly to my desktop. Like most American Jews, I had been raised on the liberal values of tolerance, dialogue, and the need for the powerful to accommodate the weak. The re-writing of the Arab-Israeli conflict as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict made it appear to me that the solution to the was for Israel to try to make life more open and prosperous for the Palestinians, who would then reciprocate by restraining the violent elements in their society. If only Israel would destroy Jewish settlements, help the Palestinians build better roads and schools, and finally surrender control to an independent Palestinian state, then the basis for the conflict would be solved. Or so I thought.



A friend of mine then emailed me a link to Memri.org, a non-profit organization which records, translates, and distributes media broadcast from the Arab world. On this website, I found a video translation of a program called "Children's Club." It had all the look of an Arabic version of the "Howdy Doody" show, with an audience of happy singing children led by an adult host with puppets and toys. Except, instead of singing "It's Howdy Doody Time," the young boy picked from the audience sang, "When I wander into Jerusalem, I will become a suicide bomber." The chorus, ranging in age from kindergarten to fourth grade, responded with a rendition of the old favorite, "Jihad! Holy war to the end against the Zionist enemy."



After my initial shock wore off, I reached some obvious conclusions. First, we will not see peace in my lifetime. When children are bombarded messages to kill and destroy before they even utter their first word, that's what they will do when they grow up.



But in the back of my mind another, more frightening thought began to emerge. It is impossible for me, as a westerner, to empathize with Arab culture. When a western country fights a war on the home front, their first priority is to protect the children. During the blitzkrieg on London, children were sent to the north of England to live with relatives. In the prelude to the Six Day War, many Israelis flew their children to relatives in the United States. But when the Arabs go to war, they strap bombs on their children and march them to the front lines. I painfully concluded that I had been a liberal chauvinist, assuming that the Arabs wanted the same things as I did out of life; the freedom to act and think for one's self and a better life for the next generation.



At the time, I was immersed in the morally relativistic mindset of a university campus, which dictated that I never cast value judgments on other cultures. Therefore, in the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians, I was to believe that there was no "right" or "wrong" side. Israel and Palestine were mirror images of each other, both justifying their actions through victimization, both unwilling to surrender when strong, like two brothers squabbling over an inheritance.



After seeing the Palestinian children's video, my chauvinistic ego shattered, I began to open my eyes see the differences. In Israel, leaders like Shimon Peres and Yossi Beilin felt great pride in waving little Palestinian flags for the television, proving their enlightenment. Yet no Arab leaders or citizens, not a single one, was ever seen flying an Israeli flag. Israelis and American liberals loved to discuss Palestinian rights and grievances. But for an Arab leader to discuss Jewish rights was inconceivable. The concept of empathy, the first step towards true peace, seems incomprehensible to them. Palestinian Arab culture and Western civilization are not mirror images but polar opposites.



The election of Hamas has sent the remaining liberal chauvinists into a tizzy. It has left the European Union scrambling to find a way to continue financing the Palestinian Authority without admitting that they are financing terror. The Bush administration is befuddled, declaring that they will never recognize Hamas in one sentence, and then praising Palestinian democracy in the next. America has much to learn from Israel's bitter experience. When dealing with a conflict based not on grievances and borders but vast cultural differences, negotiating away territory or trying to teach our values and system of government will not soothe our enemy's anger. The election of Hamas was a dry run for what America has waiting in Iraq The only solution for America is the one that Israel has reached after exhausting all other options, to fight back hard when attacked and to build a wall. We must put a respectful distance between ourselves and Arab culture, and wait for them to develop on their own.

Gam Zu Letovah

A minus: 6 months, 3 weeks

Since the Rabbi is out of town, I've been teaching a class of second graders in religious school at Chabad for the past several weeks, in addition to the basic Hebrew class I teach for adults. Every week, I teach the children a new mitzvah beginning with the next Hebrew letter. We started with "Ahavat Yisrael," to love one's fellow Jew, followed by "Bal Taschit," not wasting. This week we learned the letter gimmel, so I taught, "Gam Zu Letovah," the concept that even seemingly inexplicably bad things sometimes happen for a good reason. I decided to give the class the following personal example:


"Two weeks ago, my car was stolen," I pronounced.

I was immediately interrupted by Justin, "How much was it worth?"

"A thousand dollars," I replied.

"That's nothing! You must have had a pretty trashy car."

"Justin, the next mitzvah we're going to learn is Derech Eretz," I replied, "proper behavior, so watch your mouth."
"Anyway, my car was stolen, and I thought I was having a really bad day. When I got to work, I called my insurance company, and they told me that I could only have $25 per day to rent something, so I was going to have to get a really little car. But when I went to the rental car company, they said they were out of little cars, so they offered me a medium sized car instead for the same price, and I said OK. Then, they said they were out of medium sized cars, so they offered me a pickup truck for the same price, which was fine with me. Then they realized they were out of pickup trucks too, so they offered me a van. I accepted, and again, they were out of Vans. The only car they had left was a 2006 Cadillac, so now I get to drive the Cadillac, and the insurance company is paying for it!"



I love it when I can bring in personal examples from my life. The rest of the story is that the CRX turned up stripped, with my stereo and tefillin stolen and a flat tire, so it's now in the Insurance Company's lot being assessed. Meanwhile, Rabbi Resnik in Pleasanton received a donation of an old Ford Probe, so if all else fails, I'll still have something to drive. Gam zu letovah.



I've become very involved with the local Chabad shul (synagogue,) not just teaching classes but also been helping set up the synagogue, buying sodas, and doing general schlepping. I have a sort of quid-pro-quo with the Rabbi. It feels a bit improper taking money from a shul, so I generally refuse payment for teaching classes or buying food. The Rabbi has a constant supply of meat coming in from Los Angeles because his brother is a Kosher butcher, so when I finish teaching a class, I just walk into the back and grab a steak or some frozen pizza. Also, when I need a car, I can always borrow one of his beaters, and I can always go over to his home if I need a place for Shabbes, so, it works out quite well for both of us.



Career wise, I'm progressing quite well. Because of my three years of service with my company, and the Professional Engineering license I will hopefully receive if I pass the PE exam, I've been given a window office. It seems to be quite a big deal, as people are constantly coming in and shaking my hand, offering congratulations. There is also an unquantifiable feeling I have been getting from my coworkers, the way they ask me for snap decisions based on my engineering judgment, send emails to my boss specifically asking that Ephraim be assigned to work on their project, and assign me difficult problems with little oversight. I think it's called "respect," but it's quite a new feeling for me. Too bad I only have six more months to enjoy it.



In the mean time I'm finishing my application for Nefesh B'Nefesh. I've completed my financial affidavit, written my essay, filled out all my forms, dotted my i's and crossed my t's. Now I'm just waiting for Rabbi Resnik to finish my final letter of recommendation and for my passport photos to be developed and I'll be ready to send it out.

Attached:
Picture of my old office.

Picture of my new office.



Picture of the view from my office of the Shadelands Museum (one of the few origingal buildings from the previous century that remains standing in Walnut Creek.)

The Car Saga Continues

My stolen car finally turned up. What was left of it, at least, minus tefillin ($450,) stereo ($400,) spare pair of glasses ($275,) and mp3 player ($50.) The passenger side window was bashed and it has two flat tires but the rest of it looks in OK condition. Right now it's being towed to Fremont (30 minutes south of here) to be inspected by the insurance assesors.

In the mean time, my insurance company provided me with $25/day to get a rental. I reserved the only car I could afford with that, a compact, but when I showed up to pick it up, they had run out.
"Would you take an upgrade to a mid-size?" they asked.
"Sure!"
After clicking on the keyboard with furrowed brow, the rental car representative replied, "well, I'm sorry but we don't have any mid-size. Can I upgrade you to a full-size?"
"Sure."
More clicking, more consternation, "I'm sorry, no full sizes, can we upgrade you further?"
"Uh... OK."
This went on for some time. I was upgraded to a pickup truck, then a van. After I had accepted the van, one of the drivers pulled up in a Cadillac.
"I'm sorry sir, but all we have available is this Cadillac. Will that be a problem?"
"Uh... no, I think I can live with that."


So now I'm waiting to hear back from the insurance company. Someone recently donated an old Ford Probe Rabbi Resnik in Pleasanton which he offered me, but last night he informed me that his wife backed into it pulling out of the driveway, and it's questionable whether the driver's side door will open. It's still driveable though, so that might be my emergency backup if nothing else works.

Meanwhile, I'm crusing the streets of Walnut Creek like the Mac Daddy in my Caddy.

An Exceptionally Bad Monday

It all started when I woke up late. Instead of going to shul (synagogue) in the morning, I decided to daven (pray) at home to save some time. Since I usually go to shul, I kept my tefillin (little prayer boxes) in my car. Imagine my surprise to discover, while going out to my parking space to get my tefillin, that not only was my tefillin missing (cost: $450), so was the entire car! Quickly going through the checklist… no, I didn’t park it somewhere else last night… no, it couldn’t have been towed… I realized that it had been stolen. I called the police and filled out a report, but there wasn’t much they could do. Now my poor ’88 CRX, the Rust Rocket, is out there being violated by some wicked thief, and my tefillin is probably in a dumpster somewhere, God forbid.

My next step would be to ask the Rabbi for another beater car. California tax law states that anyone can donate their old car to a non-profit organization, like our shul, and receive a full deduction for the value. The front yard of our shul displays a whole fleet of beaters; rusty Datsuns, a Ford Aerostar that makes a bang-bang sound, an MGM with a transmission that can’t reverse, and the like. Today was a warm, sunny day, so I decided to hop on my bike and ride to shul and see if any keys were lying around. Upon arriving I discovered that the office was locked. I suddenly remembered that the Rabbi left last night for a month-long vacation to Israel. Now, I can do without the car, but the real problem is that I’m supposed to substitute teach in the Hebrew school for the next four weekends, and all of the teaching material is locked in the office. I started looking at the door for hinges, thinking that perhaps I could chisel out the hinge-pins and open the door that way. No dice. Finally, I was just getting frustrated enough to consider kicking the door down when I decided that I should collect myself and daven shacharit (morning prayers) before it got too late. Of course, I didn’t have any tefillin, but after searching far and wide I found an extra set we have hidden for people who don’t have to use. Of course, my luck today being what it is, it’s for right handed people and I’m a leftie. After about fifteen minutes of effort, I managed to reverse the knot on the tefillin so that it’s now appropriate for a leftie. Being late for work, still boiling mad, I race through the Shema and Amidah prayers, skipping everything else, and start to take off the tefillin. While I’m taking off the tefillin, I stop and think that, perhaps this is not the best day to be rushing through my davening, considering everything else that’s happened, so I put it back on, rewind to the very beginning, collect myself, and daven the entire Shacharit from beginning to end nice and slowly.

Feeling much calmer now, figuring things can only go up from here, I hopped on my bike and began the ride to work. About halfway there, I noticed that it was becoming harder and harder to pedal. Finally, I was passing by the exact same spot on the trail where I severely sprained my ankle three months ago when I lost control of the bike! I realized that the tire had sprung a leak. I managed to recover and not do any permanent damage to myself, but from then on I had to walk my bike along, hobbling on my lame ankle. I pushed my bike along the trail and finally made it back to work, sweating profusely and smelling like a men’s locker room. I came into the lobby and clicked on the elevator button. *DING!* The doors slid open and there stands Craig, the building maintenance man. “What do you think you’re DOING! There are no bikes allowed here! You know better than that! Take that thing outside immediately!”

I dragged my bike outside and find somewhere to lock it up, hauled myself upstairs, went to my office, and shut the door. It’s now almost noon and I needed to find something to eat. But before I could, the phone rang. When construction managers call you in the middle of construction, it’s seldom to complement you on the quality of your work. Turns out they found some serious oversights in a job I designed that’s now already in construction. Time for a conference call… and on and on it goes.

From then on, though, it’s been good news. Somebody at work offered to give me a ride tomorrow, but I hassled my insurance company, and, while they didn’t volunteer the information, it turns out I can get a rental car on their nickel until the claim is processed. I then managed to track down somebody else with the shul’s office key, so I retrieved my teaching material. I won’t have to go in front of the kiddies on Sunday looking like a fool. Lastly, I talked with another local rabbi, and it sounds like one of his neighbors might be making donating a beater some time soon. When you step back and look at it, these are all, thank God, replaceable objects. The only thing that’s really upsetting to me is the tefillin.

Anyway, tomorrow is a partial fast day, so I’ve got to get to sleep to wake up before sunrise and eat. Tzum Kal (easy fast) to all those who are fasting!

Sharon

As I’m writing this, Israel’s Prime Minister Ariel Sharon is suffering from a serious stroke. Doctors are trying to save his life while he’s under general anesthetic, but when they say words like, “cerebral hemorrhage,” “paralysis,” and, “pray for a miracle,” I don’t think you can expect much. Regardless of one’s opinion of his actions over the last year as Prime Minister, we can always remember that he was the man of the hour in 1956, defeating the Egyptians at Mitla pass, again in 1973, when he saved Israel by encircling the invading Egyptian third army, again in 1982, when he expelled the PLO from Lebanon, again in the 90’s when he build up a permanent Jewish presence in Judea and Samaria. While his political actions may have seemed to be foolhardy or despicable at times, it’s important to remember that, unlike other politicians of his generation, he always put Jewish interests first, never cared about his image, and never expressed pity or understanding for the Israel’s sworn enemies. Unlike his contemporaries, he still considered himself a Jew first, Israeli second. Sharon came from a generation that worked miracles, a generation that gathered in millions of disbursed Jews from around the world, greened deserts, drained swamps, and built a country. He leaves behind the dregs of Post-Zionism, names like Netanyahu, Peres, Olmert, and Beilin. Whether or not the recovery we’re all praying for comes to pass, his political life is probably over. All I can say is farewell to the last of the secular Zionists.

Nefesh B’Nefesh

A-Minus: 8 Months, 1 Week

You may have noticed that I have adjusted my aliyah target date. Instead of June 1st, at this point it makes more sense for me to aim for August 15th, which will give me a little bit of time after the PE exam to prepare myself, and the Ulpan I want to take doesn't begin until September anyway.

The biggest aliyah news so far is that the Sochnut (Jewish Agency) has approved my Tik Aliyah (application for Israeli citizenship.) Now, once I am ready to go, all I have to do is visit the Israeli consulate and have my passport stamped with an aliyah visa, which will entitle me to citizenship upon landing in Israel.

The next step is to begin the application process with Nefesh B’Nefesh (“Soul to Soul” in Hebrew,) an organization dedicated to helping Canadians and Americans make aliyah by, “removing the financial, professional, and logistical obstacles that are preventing many ‘would-be’ Olim from fulfilling their dream.” Nefesh B’Nefesh was founded by Rabbi Yehoshua Fass the day before the 9/11 attacks on the United States after his Israeli cousin was killed in a terrorist attack in Israel. He decided to honor his cousin’s memory by helping North Americans move to Israel as a response to those who would drive us out. He co-founded the organization with philanthropist Tony Gelbhart, and since then they have been steadily boosting the numbers of olim one year at a time.

The record number of immigrants from North America was 8,122 in 1971, part of a wave of immigrants inspired by Israel’s victory in the 1967 Six Day War. Since then, numbers have steadily dropped off until, even during the prosperity and quiet of 1999, only 1,697 North Americans decided to make aliyah.

Nefesh B’ Nefesh charters flights full of olim with El Al (Israel’s national airline,) bringing in immigrants by the planeload. The first flight was in 2002, only a couple of months after I had to leave Israel. That year Nefesh B’Nefesh assisted about 200 immigrants. The numbers have steadily increased until this year, 2005, saw six planeloads with 2,300 immigrants, and 10 planeloads are expected for 2006. The eventual goal is to break the all-time record of 1971 and beyond.

If the old saying that Zionism is one Jew sending a second Jew to Israel on a third Jew’s money, then Nefesh B’Nefesh is Zionism par excellence. Right now, my main concern is completing my application for financial aid. I have to gather together all of my financial records and have my accountant fill in a financial affidavit. Then I’ll write an essay explaining my plans and dreams for aliyah, hopefully inspiring them enough to help me out with my student loans. Nefesh B’Nefesh is also involved with helping immigrants work their way through the Israeli bureaucracy, find work, and generally get settled in life.


While I’m busy with aliyah business, the rest of life seems to be moving apace. I unfortunately sprained my ankle about two months ago while jogging. It was a class 2 inversion sprain, which means that there was incredible swelling, bruising, and I was stuck at home on crutches for several days. After a couple of weeks, I was able to use the exercise bike, and after a month, I was able to use the elliptical machine at the gym. Unfortunately, I still can’t run without serious pain, which makes it difficult to cross the street when the little “Walk” symbol changes to a “Don’t Walk”. I was hoping to be able to run again by January 1st, but it’s looking less and less likely.

I also had my first business trip a week ago. The company actually seems convinced that I’m some sort of HVAC (Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning) guru, so they flew me up to Seattle and put me up in a hotel for a couple of days to help them with a project they’re doing up there. I managed to extend the trip through the weekend, so I had a chance to visit my friends, my Dad and Sister, and I met Ira and Terry, a couple of wonderful long-lost cousins who live near Seattle.

It was a fun trip, and great for the ego that the company thinks it’s worth $600 to fly me up to Seattle for my expertise. Now it’s back to the grind here in Walnut Creek, working 10 hours per day, 6 days per week as usual, trying to get out of debt and save up as much as possible.

Attached are some photos I took at a desalination pilot plant I visited earlier today.

Happy Birthday to the World and Me

The world turned 5,766 yesterday, and I turned 27 today. I want to wish everybody a happy Rosh Hashanah! If I have offended anybody over the past year I would like to here and now apologize (without necessarily admitting malice, wrongdoing, or negligence.)

I have been receiving the yearly parade of phone calls for my birthday, and in wishing her a happy Rosh Hashanah, my 16 year old skeptic sister bluntly pointed out the fact that the world is not 5,766 but, in fact, approximately 4.7 billion years old, and hence that going to Rosh Hashanah services is a waste of time. I'm so proud of her! She has matured from being childishly obnoxious to intellectually obnoxious. My natural response was, "Shut up."

But she raised an excellent question: how can a person on the one hand function in the western world, with its dependence on fact, impartial judgment, and critical thought, yet at the same time be a religious Jew and believe in the Torah as the revealed word of God, straight from Mount Sinai? It's especially difficult for me, being an engineer, a profession requiring measurement, calculation, and a cold analysis of whether a solution to a particular problem is, in fact viable.

The easiest way to deal with such questions is to simply ignore the elephant sitting in your living room. For the religious, this means that anything contradicting the literal Torah view must be shut out, including books, movies, and news reports. Why is there fossilized evidence that creatures existed eons before the biblical 5,766 years of creation? How can we see light traveling from stars which are more than 5,766 light years away? None of this is a problem if you live in a Torah bubble.

Similarly, a secular person can to dismiss substantive arguments that the Torah is true as religious superstition. Why does the surrounding culture always react with great violence and hostility to Jews when they attempt to assimilate, contrary to the experience of all other exiled peoples? Why do the Jewish people, the weakest and smallest, survive when all the great and powerful nations of the earth have vanished, contrary to every rational argument? If you can brush off such questions as exceptions and quirks without a second thought, then you're out of the intellectual woods.

There are some who, in desperation, try to split this argument into two issues. "Science explains how the world works, and Torah explains why." In other words, don't try to mix the two, you're only asking for trouble. I've tried each of these methods and none of them work. The little unasked questions don't go away, they gestate and feed on my subconscious, growing into major doubts.
The next step is to try to reconcile the two ideas. There is an idea that the world was created in-situ. When God created the world, he created trees full-grown. Thus, if you were to cut down a tree on the sixth day of creation and count the number of rings, the tree would seem to be 70 years old when really it was only 3 days old. Likewise fossils were created already buried in the earth, and starlight was created already on its way here, such that it would appear to the scientific observer that the world is four billion years old when it is really only 5,766. All evidence contrary to divine creation is simply a divine test of faith.
Likewise, there is the scientific theory, called "intelligent design," postulating that the world was created through a natural process, but that this process was constantly guided by God's hand.

I have never been a big fan of either of these theories, since I don't see anywhere else that God tries to "fool" us with evidence to contradicts his words. "I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that you may live…" (Deut 30:19.) No tricks or demands that you live with your head in the sand, just the expectation that you live properly and the Torah, the teaching, of how to do so.

My own belief is that the two systems are part of one system, they simply haven't been reconciled yet. The physics world is experiencing a similar problem. Einstein's theory of relativity today explains how the world of the very large, galaxies, stars, light, and gravity, operates. Quantum physics explains how the world of the very small, the atoms, electrons, neutrons, and protons, operates. However, when one applies the laws of relativity to the very small, they do describe what is seen in a laboratory. And quantum physics, while beautifully explaining the world of the very small, doesn't bear any resemblance to reality on the very large scale. Still, there is no doubt that they do both, in fact, explain the same universe, and the search is on to find the "Grand Unified Theory" to unite them.

We know from physics that time is not necessarily a static quantity. Relativity tells us, and it has been scientifically observed, that what a person traveling at close to the speed of light experiences as a day may take years or centuries to a stationary observer. Likewise, one of the four Talmudic explanations of the Chanukah miracle is that, although outsiders observed the Chanukah menorah to burn for eight days, time inside the Beit Hamikdash where the menorah was burning was actually only one day, stretched out so that an outside observer would observe eight days.

There are aspects of the observable universe that science explains and aspects that only the Torah can explain, and sometimes pretending to know the answers is more destructive than admitting, "I don't know." The physicists argue over quantum mechanics and Einstein's relativity, but meanwhile we continue to enjoy televisions, computers, microwave ovens, and all the inventions that require both of these seemingly contradictory theories to function. Likewise, I have no doubt that with the coming of the Moshiach, we'll finally have our "Grand Unified Theory" of Torah and science. Until then, I'll keep using my microwave and keep going to minyan on Rosh Hashanah.