I’ve always loved Airbnb, a site that made it super-easy for anyone and everyone to rent out their place and make a little money on the side (or a lot – I know for lots of people it’s an actual business at this point).
Why? According to NGO Human Rights Watch, who undoubtedly has advised Airbnb every step of the way, it’s mainly because “Palestinian ID holders are effectively barred from entering” these areas (just as they can’t enter many parts of Israel). Because the Palestinian Authority have utterly failed, since the initial hope of Oslo, to reach any kind of peace agreement – not tried and failed, but simply failed due to power hunger on the part of their leadership.
When I read about all of this this morning, frankly, I was astonished that I had an opinion at all.
I didn’t used to.
You have to understand that I was a very bad prospective olah, in that I didn't really know anything about Israel before we came here.
I probably couldn't have found Haifa on a map. Let alone Beer Sheva, Netanya, Ramat Gan and a whole bunch of other towns that I now know as well as the suburbs where I grew up.
Which also meant I couldn't tell the difference, politically, between Chevron and Rechovot, between Efrat and Eilat, between Kochav Yaakov and Kochav Yair (okay, to be fair, even born Israelis get those two mixed up!).
I always figured that if I lived in Israel, the "situation" here would make a lot more sense. I would know what "settlements" people were talking about and understand whether they were right or wrong and which were the good bits of the country and which weren't.
I’m a lot less naive now.
But even so, I certainly couldn't claim to know more about how to fix the situation than anyone else. So the fact that Airbnb, like the EU, is announcing that they have the answer, and that the answer is to label different parts of the country in different ways to call attention to the political situation… well, that’s astonishing.
A stabber got loose in Tel Aviv this week. An 18-year-old man ran amok and stabbed some people and thank God, nobody died, but please don't think that's the point and the incident is over now because nobody died. Four people were wounded, which is important to remember, but there's an even bigger lesson to be learned here.
The man - 18 is a man, I guess, technically - was a Palestinian man. He was brought to Tel Aviv. He was brought there by an NGO called "Natural Peace Tours," which honestly, I would have sworn was a made up name, it's so hokey. It was their mission, apparently, to bring Palestinians to Israel for what this article calls "grassroots negotiations."
Grassroots negotiations?
First of all, let's be very clear: "grassroots negotiations" is nothing, because anyone "grassroots" isn't in a position to either offer anything or give anything in return. So through this NGO, let's face it, you're not negotiating. At best, you're having coffee with someone, and that's very nice, I support that, but maybe - just maybe - they could have thought about whether it was safe to do what they were doing.
(“grassroots negotiation” in action)
When I mentioned this incident to a dear friend who lives outside of Israel, complaining about starry-eyed and idiotic NGOs, she said that at least they mean well. Which I am absolutely sure they do.
But to be honest: I have less patience these days with people who mean well.
The moral high road to hell
I always used to think the expression "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" meant that people were innocently trying their best and somehow missing the mark. I thought it meant that nice people who had good intentions were sometimes ineffectual. But how could you really blame them? After all, they're NICE people. And they mean well.
What I believe these days about the expression is different.
It’s tragic when anyone dies in a terror attack. But last week’s murder by a Palestinian attacker of a British student in Jerusalem provides an opportunity to view the “local angle” – the British take on what exactly happened.
We all know the truth isn’t pretty – at least, until the British start telling it. These three media reports are typical in that they sidestep the truth, leaving huge gaps when talking about who exactly committed the murder.
Headline: “Jerusalem stabbing: British student, 20, killed close to Old City”
Paragraph 1: “British victim of a fatal stabbing” (who did it?)
Paragraph 2: “killed on Friday” (by whom?)
Paragraph 3: “The attack, which police said involved a Palestinian assailant with a history of mental health issues” (involved? was there anyone ELSE involved? who exactly did it???)
Later in the article: “A wave of unrest that erupted in October 2015 has claimed the lives of 260 Palestinians, 41 Israelis, two Americans, one Jordanian, an Eritrean and a Sudanese...” (erupted?)
Does terror in Europe mean the world has gone mad?
Not unless you’re blaming the victims. And you’re not doing that… or are you?
OK, sorry; probably you are.
Others have said this more eloquently than I, but I can’t sit silently snoozing through what I’m seeing. Here is just one of many memes going around Facebook last week.
The commentary seems to be of the opinion – and yes, people have actually said this – “The world has gone mad.”
Here’s just a random sampling – these all came up when I searched Google for “Aleppo, Zurich, Berlin,” and I don’t know any of these people personally.
That’s a whole lot of solidarity. So why does everybody seem to think the world has gone mad?
Because terror has left its nice cozy boundaries.
Where are those boundaries? Well, you know, the dangerous places, where presumably, it belongs.
I think we all do this to some extent.
Since 9/11 the world has experienced the same thing, to varying degrees, in just about every country I can think of. The Hype cachere incident in France was just one of a number of attacks around the world that stood out. For me and those I know, the 2014 incident in the parliament buildings in Ottawa struck home since the person who did it was a convert to Islam and could have been anybody’s neighbour. Then there was the attack in Nice earlier this year.
(Okay, I have to share the following tasteless meme…)
You never think about the ordinary bad things when it comes to living in Israel.
Years before we came here, I read about a family who made aliyah, and then one of their sons was killed riding a bike.
It really made me stop and think. These kinds of things happen in Israel? Ordinary, bad stuff, like bike accidents, car accidents, slipping, falling, all the normal terrifying things that can happen to anybody, anywhere in the world?
Yes, sadly, it’s true.
It’s the extraordinary tragedies that people expect here, and then the everyday, ordinary bad things kind of sneak up instead.
When we first made aliyah, I slept with a tichel (head scarf) handy every night, in case I had to get up and make a run for the shelter in the middle of the night. True, things were “hotter” then in the north, with Syria making all kinds of threats, and Israel getting in the way as it does.
But also, I just expected it. This was Israel, after all.
Gradually, I let down my defenses. The extraordinary bad things that one expects from watching too much news simply weren’t happening.
I'm sitting on the train, it's late, and I'm on my way home. Far too exhausted to be paying attention.
I step past a family of Arabs, their boxes spreading into the aisle. There are grandparents, parents, a little girl. They chatter all the way north.
I may be exhausted, but I can't help paying attention. My life depends on paying attention around Arabs, I've been told.
Even when they're travelling as a family? Even when they've got a little girl babbling on their laps?
I don't understand their language. Are they talking about me? Arabic sounds horrible, guttural and strange. I know Hebrew must sound that way to others; to me, it sounds like the Tanach, like poetry. The Arabs' Arabic is sprinkled with Hebrew here. They say "b'seder," and other Hebrew words. Do other Arabs outside of Israel feel like they are contaminated with Jewishness?
I don’t know if they’re talking about me, but I’m thinking about them. Not them, exactly.
You know: Terrorists.
Oh, yeah; that.
I'm writing a blog post about terrorism in Israel. I start hunting for a picture of a knife to go with the post, then realize my screen faces towards them. Will they know what I'm thinking about? Will they think I am thinking about them?
I quickly search for the word "girl" even though I do not want a picture of a girl to go with the post. Slowly, I creep back towards the pictures of the knives, choosing a relatively tasteful one instead of something bloody and garish. Not my style, anyway.
The child is facing away from me, sitting with her parents. The older people are facing in my direction. Perhaps their eyes are old; perhaps they can’t see what I’m doing.
Just wanted to let you know that although we are all worried about E_____ when terrible things happen in Jerusalem, it doesn't help to email her to let her know about them or to ask if she is safe.
Telling a person in that situation to "stay safe" implies that anyone who gets hurt is simply not making an effort.
If you want to send her a note, try something constructive, like, "I'm praying this will end soon," "I hope you're still finding ways to enjoy life," or simply, "we love you."
Please remember that, in Jerusalem as in any other place in this world, a person is safe until the moment they are not - whether that moment comes in a car, on a city street, in Canada's parliament buildings, in a hospital, or at the hands of a terrorist.
Statistically, her life expectancy here is higher than in most countries of the world, including the US. Though none of us know when our moment will come, for this moment, right now, she is safe.
I spent last Tuesday afternoon with her in Jerusalem.
Stop! Before you put that backpack down for a second… don’t.
Israelis are, shall we say, just a little bit touchy about unattended luggage, purses, backpacks, of any kind.
Leave it alone for more than a few seconds and it’s automatically reclassified. It’s no longer your stuff… it becomes a חֵפֶץ חָשׁוּד / chafetz chashud = suspicious object. And that is something everyone here takes very, very seriously.
Here is the entire Kotel / Western Wall complex shut down because of a chafetz chashud:
Can you spot it in this picture?
Some moron put down a backpack and walked away… and the entire place had to be evacuated.
When you do leave something behind by accident, Israelis are very vigilant. It starts so quietly you might not notice, but the reaction is almost immediate: “Whose bag is this?”
If it’s your bag, you’d better claim it, and fast, because soon enough, everybody will be chiming in trying to figure out which dummy has left a potentially suspicious object lying around.
Ultimately, the chain of inquiry can lead to your bag being exploded for you
My older kids had siddur parties. Maybe yours did, too?
It’s very cute.
Once first graders are reading well enough, they have a big ceremony and make a huge deal about handing over their Very First Siddur. For my big kids, that took about an hour, with refreshments following.
Here in Kiryat Shmuel, in the boys’ school, at least, things get a little more involved. Like, “involved” as in a 12-hour shlep to Yerushalayim.
And while you’re shlepping, you’d better not just hand over the siddur. At least not without a ceremony. And pizza. And a Chief Rabbi. And a visit to the Kotel (Western Wall).
Yup, 12 hours. Fun, fun, fun.
We just got home, and I decided to write down the highlights of the day while they’re still fresh in my memory.
The main celebration (see blurry photo above) was in the Kehillat Bnei Torah synagogue in Har Nof, where last November, two Arabs walked in and started stabbing Jews.
Why was that a good highlight? Because we shook the floorboards with laughter, singing and pizza. Because Jews support Jews and Israelis support Israelis. Kiryat Shmuel is the same as Har Nof as far as the bad guys are concerned. And yet our vibrant Jewish lives here go on and children grow up and receive siddurs.
Two other stops on the action-packed agenda were the Machon HaMikdash (the Temple Institute), where we learned all about the Bais (Beit!) HaMikdash, including grinding our own incense, and then on to the Kotel (Western Wall).
So… what were some of the outstanding moments from today’s long, long journey?
Discovery. Like the kid behind me on the bus shouting out "Abba, abba, hinei!" (look!) whenever he saw anything. It doesn't matter what. Police, hills, trees; this kid has clearly lived in a box his whole life.
Most of this makes our life here in the Krayot seem calm in comparison.
Actually, life here in the Krayot IS calm. There is no “seem” about it. No sirens here so far, which sets us apart probably from most Israelis at this point, both north and south.
As opposed to France.
These days, if you mention France to any Jew, anywhere, they shake their heads glumly. “Oh, France,” they say, like it’s obvious that France would turn into the clearly dangerous place that it is for Jews today.
Allow me to spoil the surprise: I’ll tell you the answer up front.
Ready?
No.
But there’s another thing I wanted to share first, which actually also came to me via facebook. This isn’t something I usually do; I figure if you want to follow me on facebook, you can.
(Didn’t know that yet? Follow AliyahLand on facebook! Follow me personally on Twitter!)
[can anyone tell me why all my graphics are surrounded by this annoying white frame?!?!]
Like I said, normally what happens on facebook stays on facebook. But in this case, these two things felt more important than most given the barrage of “stuff” that’s been falling on Israel over the last few days.
A not so fun-and-games kids’ video
I shared this video, which came with the following caption, from The Jewish Standard’s facebook page:
This song was composed by a local teacher and has been taught to hundreds of schoolchildren within firing range of Gaza's rockets to help them deal with the fear and trauma of having 15 seconds to run for cover when the Color Red siren sounds.
Despite its cheerful tune and praiseworthy goal, I was crying by the end. It’s only a minute; please watch at least a few seconds.
And I don’t cry about stuff… well, almost never.
When I shared it, I said, “It is not fair that children have to learn this song. Kind of catchy, but if you're like me, you may cry anyway.”
But when a friend added a comment to the effect that she admired our courage… and that she didn’t think she could live here, all I could think of to say was, “It’s nothing like courage. It’s just… life.”
I wish I could tell them, and you, that I am taking this trip no matter what. I wish I could tell you that I will not be deterred by terrorists attacking civilians. …
On one hand, how can I tell my family who is living this reality every day that I will not be visiting? How can I tell cousins with young children that their country is too dangerous for my children and not theirs? Isn’t the best way to support Israel to travel there …
On the other hand, I wonder will I need a gas mask to see my grandmother? Will we land in Israel and be rushed into bomb shelters? …
My comment was short, but – I think – encapsulates exactly what I believe about this situation and every other situation that could possibly develop here.
Jews outside of Israel often forget that our destinies are linked. As Mordechai told Esther, "Don't think that just because you're in the palace, you alone out of all the Jews will be spared." We are all in this together, and you are not safe anywhere if we are not safe here.
You know my answer… now here’s why
Here’s what it comes down to: “The truth is,” Chesler writes, “I don’t know what will happen.”
We sure don’t.
In Israel or in North America, you don’t know what will happen. That’s because you don’t run the world.
What do I mean by that?
Your decision to get on a plane does not in any way affect Hashem’s decision to keep you alive (or not). If your time is up, your time is up, whether you’re in Machane Yehuda or driving on the Long Island Expressway when that moment comes.
But the one thing we do know from our history is that it’s impossible to hide. If “they” are coming after the Jews, they will find you wherever you happen to be.
Does that mean you should run into a burning building?
No, absolutely not.
But Israel is not a burning building. Israel is the promised land, a land of peace and opportunity, and there is no Jewish place like it in the world.
Sharing Israel with your children keeps them safe in a way huddling with them in the illusional “palace” of North America never could. It teaches them that we are Jews; that we are strong.
That we will win.
It doesn’t take courage to come here. It’s just life. The kind of Jewish life the terrorists (in this and previous generations) have dedicated themselves to eradicating.
So… should you cancel your vacation?
Another tidbit I posted on facebook yesterday that might answer your question: I booked a plane ticket to bring our older daughter back in September.
Sure, I’m hoping there will be peace by then. But whatever is going on around us, as a Jew, she belongs here… and so do you.
Sometimes, the things that are great about Israel are not the easy, fun things.
Sometimes, the things that are great about Israel are the ugly, painful things.
Like hundreds of thousands of people uniting in demonstrations around the country… and the same hundreds of thousands flocking to one of the largest funerals in the country's history.
Not for a great rabbi, a famous statesman or singer.
Just some kids, ordinary kids with pimples and fantasties, and who probably got on their parents’ nerves from time to time… at least until the day they weren’t around anymore.
And now, earth turning, we move on.
Except, as after every tragedy that has happened here since we first decided to make Israel our home, moving on can be very difficult.
I found these lyrics going through my head the other day (scroll down to watch the video if you like – I can’t, because I’m still in shloshim), to an 80s song by an Australian band called Midnight Oil:
How can we dance When our earth is turning? How do we sleep While our beds are burning?
How can we lay our heads down each night knowing children can just vanish?
I wanted to make sure the song was okay to share, so I took a minute to read about its lyrics.
You may be amazed; I was.
It’s a song about giving native Australian lands back to the the Pintupi people, forced out during the 1950s and 1960s, while the Australian government tried furiously to assimilate indigenous peoples. In 1981, they established their own “country,” the Kintore community, where – despite attempts to wipe them out – a remnant of 400 continue to live today.
Let’s see…
Forced out of our native land (albeit a couple thousand years ago) – check.
Resisted the world’s attempts to exterminate us – check.
Succeeded in re-establishing a claim to our homeland – check.
Proudly live here to this day (thank God, more than a small remnant) – check.
This song is about us.
And as it goes on to say,
The time has come A fact's a fact It belongs to them Let's give it back
I don’t get political on this site, mainly out of humility; I don’t understand enough to get involved in one side or the other.
But in this, there can be no sides.
The world already acknowledges that we were here and forcibly removed 2000 years ago. After the Shoah, they seemed pretty sure they knew what to do with that information – in the words of the song: “let’s give it back.”
Yet today, those words, that certainty, has been lost behind a smokescreen of fabrications and confusion (“maybe they’re not the original Jews” “maybe they made up that stuff about the Shoah” “the Jews are actually the oppressors and don’t deserve the land”).
The story the world hears is so very different from the truth that it’s hard to grasp what’s going on here. As a result, most people today believe there are sides to this issue.
And then, children die, and for a moment we have clarity.
There are no sides.
It’s not that this is STILL the right place for Jews to be – despite the tragedy.
It’s not that we should make aliyah – even THOUGH bad things happen here.
Aliyah is the right choice for the same reason it has been all along; because this land belongs to us. There are plenty of people out there who’d like to take it away from us if we’re not interested.
It’s not ours unless we take it back.
At times like these, we turn to our leaders to help us understand what’s going on in the world around us. A couple of links that may be helpful:
And, for a few more days, at least, until 17 Tammuz and our national mourning period, we turn to music for inspiration as well. (Not me, because I’m still in my personal 30-day mourning period for another few days. I’ll listen to it on Wednesday.)
You might have noticed that I don’t usually get political on this site, mainly out of humility; I don’t understand enough to get involved in one side or the other.
This isn’t about politics, because I don’t know politics.
But what I do know is words.
What I do understand is grammar and the importance of using language precisely and accurately. And the tragic consequences if you don’t.
Perhaps I’m just a writer and editor at heart, but I couldn’t help making a few corrections to the story of the funerals as told by Al-Jazeera. I have taken the liberty of fixing a few things.
I think my edits make the article much better.
Even better would have been if it hadn’t needed to be written at all.
Funeral held for slain Israeli settlers boys
Burials held for three young settlers 16-year-old boys who disappeared were kidnapped weeks ago as well as for [one, unrelated] Palestinian shot by Israeli forces.
[If you don’t mention who killed the Israeli boys, why are you pointing out who shot the Palestinian one? This is flawed parallel structure, and as an editor, I won’t stand for it.]
Israel has held funerals for buried three young settlers beloved boys found dead near Hebron in the Occupied West Bank Israel more than two weeks after they went missing were abducted.
[Many hundreds of] Thousands gathered for the burials of Gilad Shaar, 16, Naftali Fraenkel, 16, and Eyal Yifrah, 19, in the West Bank Israeli city of Modi'in [,home to the Biblical Maccabees,] on Tuesday.
The settlers children disappeared were abducted on June 12 while hitchhiking home from a religious school in Kfar Etzion, an illegal settlement between Bethlehem and Hebron school, as millions of kids do every day without incident, probably guaranteed somewhere in the U.N.’s Rights of the Child, and were last heard in a brief heartbreaking emergency call to police.
Their bodies were found heartlessly dumped near the West Bank Muslim Arab [just a coincidence, folks!] village of Halhoul on Monday night.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who has blamed the Palestinian terrorist group Hamas for the killings, spoke of the "murderers who with endless cruelty and without the blink of an eye, violated the ancient order not to raise a hand against a boy".
Netanyahu has already vowed the group would pay for the deaths. Speaking before[the extra word here was just their mistake; probably non-malicious] before Israel's security cabinet convened for a second time in two days, he said that Israel "must strike hard at Hamas people and infrastructure in the West Bank" and would weigh further attacks to prevent rocket fire from Gaza on southern Israel.
Palestinian [also, but unrelatedly] mourned
Meanwhile [in a completely unrelated event inserted here to distract from the main event], hundreds of Palestinians mourned the death on Tuesday of a 19-year-old Palestinian man shot dead [redundant; if it’s his funeral, we know already] by Israeli forces unmurdered Israeli teenage soldiers who have during a raid in Jenin Refugee Camp in the occupied territory Israel, [which was founded in 1953 by the Arab nation of Jordan to house their fellow Arabs to whom they refused citizenship, creating a brutal breeding zone for terror which has spawned more suicide bombers and militant attacks than any other Palestinian city].
…
This article continues in this vein, devoting nearly 400 words to injustices caused by Israel – with under 200 spared for the three teens in an article allegedly about their funerals. Honestly, any decent editor would have chopped it after Netanyahu’s statement.
Let’s all be editors and take our red pens to terror wherever we are. If you read a newspaper report that twists reality so badly it threatens to break, write to them, cancel your subscription, leave a comment – do something.
