Where's Home?

2002-06-28T14:31:00.000+03:00

Dear readers, thank you for visiting my site. This will be my last posting. Mitch and I have moved to the United States and I will be focusing my energies for now on other forms of writing.

My email account abrakahan@hotmail.com remains active and I still welcome mail.

2002-06-13T23:59:00.000+03:00

GOSTATS DOWN

The GoStats website is down,and I am having withdrawal symptoms. For those of you who are not aware, "GoStats" not only tells you how many hits you've gotten, it also gives you a lot of information about your visitors.

Now I'm missing all that! Drop me a line and tell me who you are, how you got to my site, and what you think.
abrakahan@hotmail.com

2002-06-13T10:52:00.000+03:00

ONE WEEK LEFT

We're leaving in one week and are in the midst of packing and selling our furniture. We have met some interesting people during this process. They come over to take a look at the things we are selling, and then we get into long conversations about life in Israel. I feel bad that it's only on our way out that we've gotten to meet some of these people and have gotten to have these thought-provoking converations.

In any event, friends are making us a going away party this evening. I guess this means we are really going. I've asked everyone to bring an item for a scrap book - something of Israel that we can take back with us. I didn't want the party to be just for getting together, having a beer, and waving good-bye. I hope this scrap-book idea will help to facilitate some kind of meaningful discussion. I do feel like Mitch and I are going through an important transition, and I want to define it.....

I'll write about the party tomorrow.

2002-06-12T21:53:00.000+03:00

JERUSALEM BLOGGERS GET TOGETHER

Thanks to Gil Shterzer (Israeli Guy) and Randy (Life After Cal) for organizing the “First Jerusalem Bloggers Get Together,” which was held last night at a Jerusalem café. There were five of us there, in addition to Tal G’s spouse, Tova, and my spouse, Mitch.

It was nice to meet the real people behind the blog-personalities, and to exchange ideas, information and stories.

Randy (of Life After Cal) told us a little about life as an activist on Berkley’s Campus. When he started college – he told us – he had no idea that he would become involved in the campus’ Jewish political life. But when he witnessed the anti-Israel rallies and demonstrations, he was unable to keep silent. He became highly active in the Jewish students' organization, so much so, that these activities often played a larger role in his life than his course-work did.

Cookie Goddess (of the The Puddle) is also a Berkeley student. She brought some interesting pictures to show us, including a photo of Snehal Shingavi, the Berkeley PhD student who was scheduled to teach the infamous, course, “Poetics and Politics of Palestinian Resistance.” I was surprised to learn that he is from Southeast Asia. And also interested to hear that he is an avowed socialist who has renounced his Hinduism. That combo of interests/identities is certainly a less-than-obvious one!

Gil (of Israeli Guy) told us he was interested to hear from Randy and Cookie Goddess about American university students’ political involvement. He pointed out that in Israel, Jewish and Arab students sit in classrooms together, right here in the middle of the conflict, and yet there is scarcely any campus activism.

I suggested that this is because the issues are so charged and the danger is so real here, that students cannot afford to make the university a political fighting grounds. Gil disagreed, and thought it was primarily because of Israeli apathy. He explained that Israelis are highly opinionated, and quick to shout out their own particular version of Truth, but they are reluctant to DO much about it.

Tal G. shared with us his blogging-vision. He stressed the important role that the web-log phenomena can play as an alternative media form, and as means to keep faulty main-stream journalism in check.

Finally, Mitch and Tova discussed the possibility of starting a new blog, entitled, “Living With a Blogger.”

All in all, it was an interesting, enjoyable evening, and I’d encourage other bloggers with common interests to meet and get together!

2002-06-12T12:23:00.000+03:00

SUICIDE BOMBERS AS OBJECTS

As all of you reading this today must know, a suicide bomber killed himself and one other in a Herzelia restaurant yesterday and wounded some fifteen others. When Mitch and I heard about this, our reaction was sadness for those who were hurt and for the family who lost their child. And then Mitch wondered out loud; "Why are these our only emotions? What happened to our anger? Why are we not furious?

He is right. We should be furious. We cannot afford to feel only despair. We must be angry and we must talk about our anger and our disgust. If we do not, then we are active participants in the normalization of terror.

And so I write:

It used to be that the Israeli public was told to be alert for suspicious objects. On busses, in movie theaters and in other public areas, signs posted would read "sim lev l'hefetz hashud" ("beware of suspicious objects"). If you were to see a bag on a bus, with no apparent owner, you were to ask the people around you, "Is that your bag? Do you know whose it is?" And if, by chance, no one claimed ownership, you would report it to the bus driver. In those days, there was a sense of security in knowing that if you were aware of the objects in your surroundings, you would be safe.

Those days are gone. Now, bombs are no longer posing as objects. Instead, they are posing as people. And those people are getting harder and harder to identify. They are no longer just swarthy-looking men. Now they can be women, and they can be as young as 16 years old, they can have their hair dyed blond, or they can be wearing an Israeli army uniform.

Regardless of their shape or size or age, these suicide murderers are people who have turned themselves into bombs. They have transformed themselves from human beings into objects of destruction. When they sit on the busses or walk in cafe districts, they are not people. They are bombs.

They are objects. And it is critical to point out that it is they who have turned themselves into objects. They may say that the Israelis have "dehumanized" them through oppression and subjegation. But ultimately is they who have dehumanized themselves.

No, it is not the Israelis who have "objectified" them as the "evil other." They have turned their very bodies and spirits into objects, and Israelis cannot afford but to look at them and see a "hefetz" (object) that is "hashud" (suspicious).

2002-06-10T15:27:00.000+03:00

HEFETZ HASHUD IN TOWN

Before leaving Israel, Mitch and I have some shopping to do: We need to get a couple of wedding presents for friends who are getting married this summer, I want to buy a few hats, and to pick up a few other things for my sister and sister-in-law.

We went to town today to do some of the shopping. After visiting several stores, Mitch was getting tired and suggested we go home. We saw our bus, #13, waiting at the bus stop and Mitch said, "let's run and catch it," but I managed to convince him to go into one more hat store with me.

In the meantime, we two "bomb squad" vans pull up near us. They blocked the road and announced that all pedestrians should clear out because there was a hefetz hashud (suspicious object) on that same #13 bus.

We left the area and went towards the hat store. The radio was on in the store, and we heard about the hefetz hashud on the news. Mitch stood by the window of the store, waiting to see if the bus would blow up.

Nothing happened. We'll have to wait until the evening news to find out if it was a bomb, or if someone just fogot their knapsack on the bus.

2002-06-09T08:03:00.000+03:00

JERRY SEINFELD IN SOLIDARITY WITH ISRAEL

Friends called on Friday to invite us to their daughter's Bat-Mitzvah, which will be at the end of June. Sadly, we told them we are sorry that we will have already moved back to the U.S. by then, and will miss the celebration.

Later that day, Mitch heard that Jerry Seinfeld is scheduling a solidarity trip to Israel some time in July, and will be giving one performance.
Now that he's heard that, Mitch has decided that we've got to wait several more weeks before we leave.

(too bad for Mitch - we've already got our airline tickets. We'll have to catch Jerry in the U.S.)

2002-06-06T23:00:00.000+03:00

JUST A REGULAR DAY

In “The Tourism of Terror” (a piece published in the Jerusalem Post on Tuesday), author Stuart Weiss describes a new tourism phenomenon:

It used to be that when dignitaries and missions arrived in Israel, they would be whisked from the airport directly to the Western Wall or to the Knesset, to make pilgrimage to some of the country’s most important sites. In recent months, however, that has changed. Now the itinerary for the first day of many mission visits to Israel consists of “pilgrimages” to sites of recent terror attacks. Tourists alight from their plane, leave Ben Gurion Airport and are then taken to sites such as the Park Hotel, Moment Café, at Sbarro Pizza to view the carnage and to hear the grisly details of the pigua [terrorist attack] that occurred there.

Distraught by this new tourism phenomenon, author Stuart Weiss argues that we are “doing a major disservice to the country’s image and psyche by continually accentuating the negative.” He points out that Israel is a “fantastic country with a high standard of living, beautiful neighborhoods [and] a delightful combination of the modern and ancient.” Finally, he suggests that Diaspora Jews should not support Israel because they pity her, but rather because they wish to be a partner in her “miraculous achievements.”

After reading Weiss’ editorial, I started to feel bad about the fact that much of my portrayal of Israel, in fact, does just what Weiss pleads against. I have tended to accentuate the negative, particularly the difficulties of living with terrorism, whereas I ignore the normal, everyday positive details that make up much of the richness of life here.

Inspired by Stuart Weiss, I decided to write about my day on Tuesday. Ordinarily, I would never have thought about writing about Tuesday. It was an uneventful day; the kind of day that you forget you ever had: no strange happenings and nothing particularly exciting. But it was a normal, nice day in Israel, and I want to hold onto it, so that I can keep it in my store of memories, and carry it back with me when I go back to the United States. And I also want to share it, so those of you who read it will understand that although there is much fear and sadness here these days, there are positive, special dimensions of life here too.

And so, I will write about Tuesday:

MORNING
Since Mitch lost his job, he has been going to a Talmud class each morning. As usual, while he is out of the house, I work on the computer, doing some writing.

AFTERNOON
On his way home in the early afternoon, Mitch gave me a call and suggested that we stop over at our friends, Mimi and Shmuel, who just came home from the hospital with their first baby; a little girl. Mimi and Shmuel both lost their jobs during this recession, and have plenty of financial worries. Like everyone else who is unemployed, they are hoping that it will not be long before they begin to feel the effects of economic recovery. But in the meantime, they have taken advantage of their unemployment by preparing their home for their new arrival. And now that she’s here, I am sure they will both appreciate the time they have together to get adjusted to parenthood.

After spending about an hour with them, Mitch and I walked home, had lunch and then worked on organizing some of our papers; trying to figure out what we can throw out and what we should take with us back to the United States.

Then I went to visit our friend, Lior, who has helped us with our on-line moving sale. He’s got a digital camera that he let us borrow to take pictures of the furniture we are selling. Several days ago he helped Mitch choose pictures, and touch them up. This morning, he tried several times to send them to us over email, but without success. So I decided to take the ten minute walk to his house to copy the photos onto a floppy disk.

On the way back, I stopped by at Rachel’s. She is a good friend of mine from college who moved here several years ago, met an Israeli guy, got married, and has been living here since. They just had their third son a few weeks ago and I haven’t gotten to meet him since his bris. It turned out, he was sleeping when I got there, so I still haven’t really gotten a good look at him. I spent a quarter of an hour with Rachel and then went to my next stop.

LATE AFTERNOON
Back home for a few minutes to drop stuff off and help Mitch out with a cover letter to some head-hunter in the U.S. and then out again.

I went to meet my friend Brenda for coffee at a cute little café on Emek Refaim Street. She just started a new job (after a long stint of unemployment) and I hadn’t gotten a chance to find out how she likes it and what she is doing there. The job sounds fine. Mostly, she is very happy to be making money, and to have found something decent given the difficult job-market these days.

EVENING
Walked home, back up the big hill from the Valley (Emek Refaim ) and arrived just in time for the cast-party that I was hosting! Just an informal get-together for the cast of the play that I was just in. We ordered pizza, watched the video of our play (which Mitch had made) and then watched a movie that I had rented.

Not a very interesting story, nor a particularly exciting day. But it was a special day. The whether was warm and sunny, I was happy to be walking around my neighborhood, and appreciating my good friends and my meaningful relationships with them. I am excited to start my new life back in the United States, but will miss the pace of life in Israel, and so many of the details that fill my days here.

2002-05-31T17:16:00.000+03:00

RALLY OR CONFERENCE?

I went to the IAA (Israel anthropology association) conference yesterday and was shocked by the number of papers presented that were first-person ruminations and confessionals, many of which bordered on tirades.

A Palestinian Israeli woman introduced her paper with an anecdote about a Jewish Israeli Professor who recently asked her how many babies she “has made.”

I do not know how she responded to him at the time. But to her captive audience at the conference, she ranted for some 15 minutes about how Palestinian women are viewed not as people, but as “wombs” who threaten the Jewish national cause. At the conclusion of her talk, she received a large applause. I was dumb-founded. Even for those in the audience who totally sympathize with her cause, I find it hard to see how this “rally” could be called, “social science.”

2002-05-29T21:01:00.000+03:00

Mitch went downstairs to get the paper this morning. When he came up, he told me, "There is more bad news." Three teenage boys were killed late last night when a terrorist infiltrated into the grounds of their school dormitory and opened fire. And a 50 year old man was killed on his way home from work; terrorist shot at his car, murdering him and wounding his cousin.

Everyday it is the same story with a different variation, leaving another set of family, friends, and neighbors in despair.

All of the recent attacks have been very small scale. One, two or three people killed at a time. I have a distinct feeling that they are purposely not targeting crowded areas. They want to hit only a couple at a time; keep the terror low profile so that no particular act seems to warrant large-scale retaliation. Wear us down that way.

I am scared again. I dreamt last night that I watched myself get blown up, and saw my body ignite in flames.

And I have much hate in my heart now. I never did before. I have had such a liberal education and was taught to understand people on their own terms. But I have stopped wanting to think about "their terms" and to explore the issues from "their" perspective.

I have much more to say. But since I began this blog endeavor two months ago, I have worked very hard not to turn it into a rant. So I will hold back, and end here.

2002-05-27T23:20:00.000+03:00

Another suicide bomb exploded. This time in a cafe at a shopping center in Petach Tikva.

The newsreporter on the scene said something to the effect of: "I do not want to get into politics or to propose any solution - - - but how could someone do this? Walk into an establishment that is not crowded, where only a few people are sitting, and blow himself up? It's one thing for them to come into a place that is packed with people and try to kill as many as they can. But why a place like this?"

The reporter continued by pointing out that many Israelis feel unsafe in crowded, popular places, and have made a conscious decision to stay away from such establishments. Yet, people have still tended to feel safe in small places (like the one just blown up) and have continued to frequent them freely.

The program switched from this reporter's on-the-scene commentary back to to the studio, where the newscaster replied, "I suppose they want to ensure that we do not feel safe any where, ever."

2002-05-24T15:57:00.000+03:00

FROM MANHATTAN TO JERUSALEM

I've been getting very few hits lately and have lost some interest in writing.
But now that popculturejunkmail has provided a short blurb on my site and a link, I've gotten lots of visitors and feel some pressure to post new entries!

I'm working on a new essay, which I'll post early next week. But in the meantime......... a short entry:

I was happy to see that my favorite advice-columnist, Ruthie Blum, is back writing for the Jerusalem Post.
Her relationship-advice pieces stopped running a few months ago and I've been missing them. Now, though, it looks like she's launched a new column. In the first, which was published today, she tells why chose to leave her home in Manhattan to come live in Israel. Enjoy reading!

2002-05-15T13:35:00.000+03:00

SAFETY AT HOME

Mitch and I spent this past weekend with Israeli friends who live on a kibbutz. They have three sons who are in their twenties. The older two have completed their army service and the youngest, Eitan, is still enlisted.

Eitan used to have thick, long, curly hair, but it shaved close to his scalp now. He says he can’t wait until he is done with the army so that he can grow it back.

For the past six months, he’s been stationed in Gaza. He sits in a tank that is situated on a 100-meter stretch that separates a Jewish settlement from an Arab one. While he is on duty, he is vigilant, focused and on-guard. And when he is on an off-duty shift, he is still on-guard and does not sleep easy. “It’s exhausting,” he says many times, when answering my question about what life is like for him on the front line.

On Eitan’s days off, he comes home and spends a lot of time sleeping. It used to be that on Saturday afternoon, his father would nudge him, waking him to find out if he’d like to join the family for lunch.
More than once, Eitan told me, his father’s “wake-up call” startled him and he jumped out of bed screaming.

Now his father knows better. Eitan has instructed him not to nudge, “In the army, if you want to wake someone up, you call his name very softly. If you touch him, it means, ‘There is trouble, get up fast!’”

I listened to Eitan’s story, hanging onto these small details, which helped me to get a sense of what his life is like as a soldier. I thought about the real danger that he lives with, and I silently prayed for his safety.

During the course of our visit, Esther (Eitan’s mother) asked me how my family is doing back in the United States. I told her what my parents are up to, how many children my brother has, and about my sister’s studies.

Then our discussion shifted. We talked about what it has been like to be Jewish in the U.S. over the past few months. I told her that my family members have all expressed discomfort and dismay at the anti-Israel and anti-semitic reactions they have recently experienced: Feelings of anger when reading the blatantly anti-Israel newspapers and alienation when walking through hateful demonstrations on campus.

I told Esther that during my conversations with my family, I always think about how my own life is going to change within a month – when Mitch and I move back to the U.S. I am realizing that I will have to come to terms with the fact that my sense of “belonging” here will be replaced by a sense of “otherness” there. I know that there will be times when I will have to face the uncomfortable, scary feeling of being an despised outsider (recent news of hate mob at San Francisco State University that angrily surrounded the Jewish students’ Peace Rally, has made that fear more pressing).

Esther, an ardent Zionist, listened to me and commented, “Yes. The only safe place for us to be, is in our own country.” I looked over at her son Eitan, who was reading the paper and not really listening to our conversation.

In Gaza, in uniform, his life is on the line. But he is in a tank and behind a gun, defending himself, and fighting for the citizens of his country. Perhaps Esther is right. Perhaps it is not only his safety I should be praying for, but that of my own family, friends and People in the diaspora.

2002-05-10T07:23:00.000+03:00

NORMALIZED TERRORISM

This past Wednesday morning, Mitch and I woke up to the news of another suicide bomb massacre. Those of you reading this probably know that 15 people were killed in a pool-hall in Rishon L'Tzion (a small city outside of Tel Aviv).

The media, of course, gave much coverage to the event: Reports on the wounded and murdered, footage from funerals, pictures of the decimated site, and political implications.

Strange, though, that in the course of my daily activities and conversations with friends, the incident been given little attention. I went to class that morning, visited a friend in the afternoon, went to rehearsal in the evening, and spoke to several people during the course of the day. No one brought up the "pigua" (terrorist attack). No one discussed it, or even mentioned it.

I could not help but wonder why.
Is Rishon L'Tzion (just an hour's drive from Jerusalem) so far away, that we in Jerusalem feel detached?
Is it because it was in a billiard's club (that seems to have been a front for an out-of-the-way seedy casino) that we cannot relate?
Are we just too tired from mourning?
Or numb from so much savagery?

Regardless of the reason, the fact that we have stopped reacting is a sad indicator of how normalized terrorism has become.

2002-05-07T11:11:00.000+03:00

ECONOMIC DEPRESSION

It's been several days since I've written. I am now quite comfortable now with our decision to move, and also feeling much better about the security situation in general.

The discomfort, confusion, fear, and intensity of life that motivated much of my writing in April, has lifted. Now my head is clearer, I've been able to concentrate on my academic work, and do not need the outlet of my blog-writing to get me through each day.

I will continue to write, though, about some the goings on in my life - and about how these personal goings-on reflect the general state of the country. On that note:

I've been working on trying to find a tenant to replace us in the apartment that we're in. It's hard to show the place to others, knowing that in a few weeks it will no longer be our home, but someone else's.

It's a stunning modern apartment, with big balconies and views that overlook Jerusalem (I'll try to post pictures of these amazing views within the next few days) . When Mitch found the apartment (before we were married) the place was in high demand, and he had to jump on it so as not to miss the chance. Things are very different now, though.

The apartment is still an amazing find, but the economy has totally changed. For one thing rent in Israel is set in dollars. That is a strange and difficult aspect of life here, because people earn their living in shekels, and they pay their landlord in shekels. So, as the dollar gets stronger (as it quite markedly has done over the past year), people are stuck shelling out more and more shekels each month.

For another thing, so many people have lost their jobs in the past year and on top of that salaries have gone down.

Given these changes, I am wondering if the landlord will be forced to lower the rent. People who have come to see the apartment love it, but no one seems interested in taking it for the price that he's asking.

2002-05-02T20:52:00.000+03:00

FELAFEL IN TOWN

It’s been almost three weeks since a terrorist has blown himself up in a public place. The army is out of the West Bank, Arafat is no longer under siege, the anti-Israel demonstrations in Europe have quieted down and the news here is less frantic.

Nevertheless, the wounds of war are still wide open. I saw one yesterday when I passed the bombed-out Moment Café, and looked into the open cavernous space that workmen are now busy rebuilding. And each time I see my neighbors, whose son was killed by a terrorist, I know the pain that many have suffered will not heal quickly.

But life does feel more normal these days, and I no longer have the sense that I’m living the midst of a war.

Mitch and I had to run an errand downtown yesterday, and we walked over to Ben Yehuda – the city’s main pedestrian mall – to get a felafel. It was a sunny day and we ate our meals sitting by the outdoor tables, watching the people go by. I cannot say the area was bustling with activity, but there was movement and people milling about.

Nor can I say that I was not nervous sitting there. I could not help looking around, worrying for our safety. But we sat, we ate, we chatted and I felt fine. Considering how scared I have been over the past couple of months, that is saying a lot.

I hope that the worst is behind all of us now. And I hope that when Mitch and I do leave in June, we will be leaving in a time of peace of optimism.

2002-05-02T00:31:00.000+03:00

I got in my grant application today, and I'm exausted from it..... Will write tomorrow.

2002-04-30T00:30:00.000+03:00

I've got a grant application due in two days, so I won't do any serious writing now.

Two quick notes:

First: there's a short blurb on my blog in an article entilted, "Blog On" in the Jerusalem Post on-line edition. Check it out here.

Second: on Friday afternoon, as we were cleaning up our apartment for Shabbat, Mitch and I received a flower delivery! Janet and Larry, friends in the U.S., sent us a beautiful bouquet with a note, telling us that they think of us here each day, "our hearts and prayers are with you." What an amazing surprise (and they don't even know about my blog! ;-) ) !!

The story is even nicer than that....
Turns out, a friend of a friend of theirs owns the flower shop that sent us the delivery. Richard's business has suffered terribly on account of the recession here. Sales are down, and his rent was raised. He had to relocate to an area where there is far less traffic, and he's lost many of his regular customers.

Hearing this story, Janet and Larry have made an effort to order flower-deliveries Richard. They send to friends here in Jerusalem for all kinds of occassions (even small ones - like just to send wishes for a "Shabbat Shalom").

What a great gesture! Not only did they brighten our apartment and make us feel good, they also helped out the local florist.
If you have friends in Israel and would like to do the same, please let me know and I'll be happy to provide you with the shop's contact details.

2002-04-29T00:09:00.000+03:00

UNRESOLVED ROMANCE

Now that Mitch and I have made our decision to leave, I am living life much as one stands on a train platform; waiting to hop onto the train that will take us to our next destination.

As I look around at our apartment now, I wonder how our belongings will fit into boxes and bags, and I wonder what we should take with us and what we should leave behind. I think about our next destination and wonder how our things will look unpacked in another apartment somewhere far away.

Still immobile, I have not yet begun to pack. But I know that the moving process will begin soon, and a sense of familiarity hovers around my thoughts.

Before I left Mitch in one of the break-ups we went through (before deciding to get married), I sat waiting in much the same way.

I had struggled with the decision of whether to leave him or to stay. I had written in my diary, I had spoken to my friends, and I had stayed up nights considering our relationship from every angle.

When I finally decided to leave him because things between us “just weren’t right,” I was unable to act immediately. I sat with the decision, and with the knowledge that my life would change, but remained immobile until I got used to the idea. And only then did I have the strength to pry my life loose from his.

But the thing about leaving a boyfriend who you love, is that even after you have made the decision, and even after you have packed your things and taken them out of his life, you are still not sure that your decision was the right one.

You do go on. You go to work and you go shopping. You hang out with friends and meet other men. You live your life. But you live it with a gnawing question: Is my decision final? Is it really over? Or is it just over for now?

Although my decision to leave Israel is the right one for now, it feels much like parting ways with a great love. I will go on, and I will live a full life, but my unresolved romance will continue. Am I really leaving? Or just for now?

2002-04-26T17:36:00.000+03:00

AN ENDING OF SORTS

Thanks to those of you who have written to congratulate me on our having made a decision, and for your words in encouragement.

The decision-making process has been quite a journey and has provoked much soul-searching. Keeping the "blog journal" throughout has been a really helpful means to articulate and sort out my thoughts, feelings and ideas.

It seems now, that I have reached "the end" of my blog. I began with a question, and wrote through until I came to then answer.

Nevertheless, I'll continue to write "endnotes" to my story. I still have many thoughts about the question, "Where is Home?" which I'll address in future entries.

Until then -
Shabbat Shalom.

2002-04-25T08:19:00.000+03:00

DECISION
Yesterday, I met with a couple of professors in the Department that has offered me the post-doc.

Going into these meetings, my main question was: if I’m interested in applying for a teaching position in the department down the line, would I be making a fatal flaw if I were to turn down the post-doc they have offered me (and take the one I’ve been offered in the U.S. instead).

The message I received was pretty clear: If you want to be considered for a teaching position here, do good work and do a lot of it.

I feel quite confident that the best place for me to do my work is at the university in the U.S. that has offered me a post-doc.

We are going to leave Israel.
I’ve already started to say, “I’m sorry” to my friends…….

2002-04-23T21:24:00.000+03:00

A DECISION FOR "JUST" A YEAR?

I recently got a letter from Maddie in Los Angeles (check out her website at www.moxie.nu).

She points out that if I choose to leave Israel for a year, I am not "shunning my heritage or my loyalties." A year, afterall, is just a year.

Looking at it this way, my decision doesn't sound like a serious one at all.

And yet, I know that if I take the post-doc here, it will get me connected into the academic scene in Israel, and has the potential to pave the way for a career here. If I take the post-doc in the U.S., on the other hand, I am quite certain that I will get caught up in academic life there, which will open all kinds of opportunities for pursing my career there.

So the decision is not just about a year, but about setting me on one path, or on another.

I should also add that once I land in the U.S. with all my luggage, I know that it will be very difficult to think about returning to Israel. Once I start going to the mall, to the movies, and to cafes without worrying about getting blown up by a suicide-bomber (whether I should worry or not is a separate question), speaking my native language, being close to my family, and taking part in the luxuries of American society - I honestly don't know if I'll be able to pack up my stuff again and come back here.

That doesn't mean that I will have a better life in the United States - in the long run. Just that the challenges of Israel are hard to face when contemplating them from the comforts of America

2002-04-23T08:35:00.000+03:00

THE INTENSITY HAS LIFTED

If I would have been offered both these post-docs four moths ago, and we would have had to make a decision back then whether to stay or leave, I don't think it would have been nearly as anxiety provoking.

But because war came to my backyard in recent months, and life in Jerusalem suddenly be became so extremely intense, I ended up doing a lot of soul searching, and began to question everything.

That intensity seems to have lifted.

Maybe that is because a week and a half has passed since there has been a suicide bomber in any of the country's central areas. And maybe it's because the army has pulled out of cities and towns in the West Bank, so the protest marchers and ralliers around the world have quieted down, and I no longer have to see "Death to Israel" signs everytime I turn on the international news

Or maybe I've just gotten myself out of the confusion and started to see things more clearly.

The post-doc I've been offered in the U.S. is at one of the country's top universities. The academic environment, the potential connections and the name on my C.V. are huge lures, and I do not want to pass up the opportunity.

The move will, of course, be very disruptive to our lives. But on the other hand, I don't feel like life is going so great for either of us here. Since Mitch's hi-tech company closed months ago, he's been unable to find a job, and I am languishing here in terms of my academic work. I need to be part of an open, friendly academic network, which I just don't have here.

Before making the final decision to turn down the post-doc I've been offered here, I am going to speak to the Department Chair: Just to get as much information as I can, just to make sure I'm not making a mistake.

2002-04-22T08:33:00.000+03:00

CONVERSATON SHIFT

The conversations Mitch and I have been having have gradually shifted.

At first, when I was offered the post-doc here (in Israel) and the post-doc in the United States, our discussions were all over the place. We'd talk about the reasons and benefits for moving there. Then an hour later, we would talk about why we should stay here. Sometimes I would talk about staying and he would talk about leaving and then we'd switch positions the next day.

Over time, though, the conversations changed. We no longer seem to be questioning "here or there?" Instead, we've been talking about the logistics of the move. How will we get our stuff over there? What kind of place will we rent there? What will it be like to leave our apartment here.

I am still questioning. I ask Mitch several times a day "Are we making a mistake?" In fact, my fellowship is only for a year, so our decision is not a permanent one. And I guess there are no "mistakes." But there are different paths. If we stay here our lives would surely turn out different in many ways than the way our lives would be if we leave now.

2002-04-21T15:50:00.000+03:00

LETTER FROM OHIO

I recently received a letter from Bobby and Jane in Ohio, who wrote to let me know that although Israel seems to stand alone “in a world of dis-information. In reality, (as the latest polls show) the majority of Americans are with you... at the very least in our hearts and prayers.”

Thank you for your support!

On a slightly different topic, Bobby ends the letter with the following, “Concerning your thoughts on leaving Israel for America... I personally would not do it... however, my wife (who is smarter than I am) says she would definitely leave.”

Many letters that I’ve received indicate that like Bobby and Jane, others have grappled with questions similar to my own. What is particularly interesting about this letter, though, is that Bobby and Jane are not Jewish.

I am wondering how my question (to leave or to stay in Israel?) resonates with others who do not have a particular, personal connection to Israel. How do people view the broader implications of my question? I’ll welcome comments. abrakahan@hotmail.com

This question leads me to the posting (below), “Dedication to the Collective?”

2002-04-21T15:48:00.000+03:00

DEDICATION TO THE COLLECTIVE?

In recent weeks, as I have been working extra hard to define my relationship with Israel, I have been giving much thought to what it means to be dedicated and committed to a collective cause (such as the State of Israel).

I have explained in many of my previous entries that I have begun to feel deeply connected to Israel in new ways, as life here has become increasingly more precarious.

I have, though, begun to realize that there is a highly INDIVIDUAL aspect to this feeling of connection. My very being here provides me with a deep sense of purpose. In other words, my feeling of connection to the country is not only about subsuming myself as an individual for the good of the collective. It is also about personal meaning.

When people speak ideologically about being in Israel these days, I cannot help but wonder if it is because they actually privilege the collective over the individual? Or is it because of the strong sense of individual meaning that they derive from belonging?

Of course, these two possibilities are not at odds with one another. But, which is the primary motivator?

If a person is willing to die for her country, is it because she values that country above all else, even her own life? Or is it because her willingness to die gives her a sense of purpose?

These are difficult questions that I do not intend to answer here. But they are important to think about, nonetheless.

2002-04-19T18:40:00.000+03:00

MANDEL STAYS IN ISRAEL DESPITE THE BRUTAL MURDER OF HER SON

All the factors in our decision to leave in Israel or to stay are starting to organize themselves, and I am no longer feeling as overwhelmed as I was when I started this blog journal.

Over Shabbat I hope to get even fuller clarity, and next week plan to write about our decision.

In the meantime, a friend just sent me a powerful piece written by Sherri Mandel, an American-Israeli whose son was killed by terrorists about a year ago. She explains why she and her family have chosen to stay in Israel despite the real tensions and fears of living here: "Why we stay in Israel."

2002-04-18T18:56:00.000+03:00

ANOTHER WAY TO SHOW SUPPORT

Today we are still leaning towards leaving, but I can't bring myself to write about now.

On a different note: Over the past few weeks, I have gotten lots of emails from the United States, asking me to sign my name to petitions, to write letters to President Bush, and to attend rallies - all in support of Israel. For Israel-supporters living abroad, these are all important, critical measures that contribute to the national cause.

But I find it strange that many of the same people from whom I've received these messages, have not called or emailed to ask how Mitch and I are doing, to find out what it is like to live here these days, and to tell us - simply - that they are thinking of us.

Many of my friends here have told me that they, too, have been wondering about similar experiences. And like me, they are hurt and feel abandoned.

For those of you reading this who have friends or family living in Israel: I urge you to pick up the phone or send off a quick email. Even if you are busy and have lots of stuff going on and not a lot of time for a long conversation. Just write to say, "I'm thinking about you." Supporting Israel, afterall, does not only mean supporting it financially and politically. It also means supporting those who are living here: those who are getting on the busses everyday, going to the the supermarkets everyday and going to cafes. These are mundane activities, but in Israel these days, they are exausting and challenging. Do not foget that they are essential to the State's existence!

2002-04-17T09:58:00.000+03:00

WHEN AN INDIVIDUAL'S OWN ASPIRATIONS ARE IN CONFLICT

I am using this "blog-journal" as a medium to keep track of my thoughts about my relationship with Israel. In this sense it is a partial journal. As Mitch and I discuss whether we should remain here, or whether we should leave, there are many other personal factors that I (and we) are considering.

* Which post-doc (the one I've been offered in the U.S. or the one here) is a better one for me in terms of my career?
* What role do I want my career to play in my life and in our lives together?
* What about Mitch's job and career prospects?
* What are the financial considerations that we must take into account with each post-doc?
* What role should family (parents, siblings, nieces and nephews) play in our considerations of where we want to live?

Although the answers to these questions are all major factors in our decision, I am putting them off to the side for the purposes of this blog.

One issue that I do intend to address here, however, is the relationship between all these very persional factors on the one hand, and the State of Israel as a collective factor, on the other hand.

In other words: the issues I've listed above, are each decisions about my life as an individual and our life as an individual couple. The issue of Israel, on the other hand, is a decision about our lives as part of a collective, national project.

I might, for example, decide that the post-doc here is better for my career AND it is better for us to be part of the Jewish project here in Israel. If that's the case, then my individual aspirations and my collective ones are not contradicory and my decision to stay here is an easy one! But what if they are contradictory? That is when the question becomes difficult...... and interesting.

Right now, the personal factors are weighing heavy on the scale and we are leaning towards going to the U.S. But today is Israel's Independence Day, and I do not want to talk about leaving. I want to enjoy being here in this country, and enjoy my friends, and enjoy my feeling of being part of something important that is much bigger than me.

Until later -

2002-04-17T01:42:00.000+03:00

LETTERS FROM READERS

I've gotten a number of email letters over the past couple of days, a few of which I've posted here.
Thank you to those who have written to express their support and interest.
I don't have time to respond to everyone, but welcome the correspondence!

2002-04-16T09:43:00.000+03:00

MOURNING FALLEN SOLDIERS AND CELEBRATING INDEPENDENCE

Last night began Yom Hazikaron [the Day of Remembrance for Israel's fallen soldiers]. I was outside, on my way home, when the alarm sounded at 8:00 PM. Together with the rest of the country, I stood still for a moment of silence.

When I got home, Mitch and I watched one of the national ceremonies on television. While we were watching, it occurred to me that at that the very same time, tens of thousands from across North America were gathered in Washington DC to show their support of Israel, and that made me feel good and strong.

Mitch and I live next to an elementary school. From our bedroom window we can see all the activities in the school play-ground. This morning, I went downstairs to watch the ceremony that they are holding in honor of the country's fallen soldiers. Israeli flags, a torch of rememberance, a big "54" (for Israel's 54 years), touching songs and dances, and the stories of some of the soldiers who gave their lives for the country. Many parents have come to take part in the event. All of the kids are wearing wearing blue and white, and I dressed likewise.

Tonight at sunset, the 24 hour period of national mourning give way to a 24 hour of celebration. Memory of the lost soldiers will merge with festivities in honor of Israel's independence. Mitch and I will go to a friend's for a festive meal, and join the country in celebrating 54 years of Statehood! I feel lucky to be here for this holiday during this very intense time.

2002-04-15T10:41:00.000+03:00

AN ACCEPTANCE LETTER

I found out I got accepted for the post-doc that I applied for here in Israel! That’s great news, but now my head is spinning faster than ever.

Mitch and I now have all the information at hand and we can no longer put-off our decision. Shall I take the post-doc I’ve been awarded here in Israel? Or take the one in the United States? More significantly, she we finally make aliya? Or shall we go back "home" to the United States (not knowing when we will return to Israel....)

I talked to a family member (in the U.S.) who had naturally assumed that I would take the position in the U.S. because I've expressed such strong feelings in the past about wanting to move back.

It was difficult for me to explain to him how radically my feelings have shifted recently. Although I have lived here on and off for almost five years, I had always felt like an outsider, never quite connecting to the people or to the culture here. That has changed, though, over the past few months.

FUNERALS, CELEBARTIONS, GROCERY STORES AND A SENSE OF SOCIAL SOLIDARITY
Over the past couple of months, I have begun to feel strongly tied to Israel. I feel part of the country’s social solidarity in ways that I never have before.

Last month, I attended the funerals of two young men who were murdered by terrorists: The funeral of Eran, my neighbor’s charming eighteen year old son, and the funeral of Yochai, a dedicated young man in his 20s, who had helped to organize my husband’s volunteer work at Magen David Adom (Israel’s Red Cross). Both these young men were brutally shot to death in two separate incidents.

At the funerals, and at the houses of mourning, I felt myself linking into two broad far-reaching networks of people. While Yochai and Eran were alive, so many people who made up these networks did not know they were connected to one another. But in death - neighbors, fellow-classmates, family friends, relatives, co-workers came together; each joined to every other in their feelings of common and personal loss.

It is not only in tragedy that I’ve begun to feel connected, but also in the sense of sharing a common fate. This sense of “common fate” is manifested in mundane, almost gruesome ways, like when I go to the grocery store and am stopped by the guard who checks to see that I am carrying no bombs. As he checks my bags and runs the metal detector across me, I cannot help but think of the explosion that ripped through a grocery store in a nearby neighborhood of Jerusalem a few weeks ago.

Moments before the suicide-bomber detonated herself, two women may have stood next to one another, picking over the same tomatoes, without looking at or even acknowledging the other. An elderly man and a teenage girl may have been wheeling their grocery carts down the same aisle, surely feeling no common bond. And yet a moment later, they were joined in a common experience of terror.

Thinking about this, I suddenly feel connected to the people standing behind the butcher counter with me, each of us waiting in line for service. I look at them a little longer than I should, studying their faces, thinking how beautiful they are, whole and in tact, and I pray silently for our common welfare.

The sense of sharing a common fate is also manifested through small caring interchanges with people who might otherwise have remained strangers: a conversation with a taxi driver, (“Is there any news?”), or a saleswoman (“How is business these days?”) or a clerk, (“What will be?”) that ends with a warm good-bye and “take care of yourself.”

Most significantly, I have felt this feeling of connection in recent weeks when getting together with friends and friends of friends. A party to celebrate a 30th birthday, prayer-services and breakfast in honor of the birth of a new baby, a wedding, and social Shabbat meals. More than ever, I savor these gatherings, and draw strength from our coming together to affirm life and our bonds to each other.

2002-04-14T01:59:00.000+03:00

PORTUGUESE NOTES ABOUT "WHERE'S HOME?"

Arafat has issued a statement condeming the terrorism and suicide bombing. That does not make me feel any safer here in Israel. I breathe no sigh of relief. On the contrary, if the world is to trust this avowed terrorist, I fear that our situation here will only get worse.

On a different note, I'd like to let my readers know that an article about my blog has appeared in a Brazilian on-line news site. I still haven't read it yet because I don't understand Portuguese. But for anyone who does, you can check it out at http://www.terra.com.br/cgi-bin/index_frame/noticias/especial/orientemedio/depoimentokhan.htm">terra.com.

2002-04-12T18:46:00.000+03:00

FIGHTING EVERYWHERE

Shabbat is beginning is a few moments, so I will make this one short.
We've had the television on for the past hour, listening to news reports on the suicide bomber who blew up herself up and six others (and wounded many many more) at the entrance to the busy Ben Yehuda market (where my husband and I often shop, as do many of our friends).

I got word of the terrible news from my sister in the United States. She called to make sure Mitch and I were OK, and to tell me that she wishes she were here with me. She feels so disconnected, she said, from life on her university campus.

The massive anti-Israel student demonstrations must surely be provoking a great sense of alienation among Jewish university students. She and her husband wonder if war should be waged "there" (in the U.S.) on account of the war over here?

Wishing everyone everywhere a peaceful Shabbat.

2002-04-11T19:02:00.000+03:00

THE BLOG AS OPEN DIARY:
PERSONAL FEARS AND PUBLIC LOYALTIES

It's Thursday morning, just a few days after I started keeping this "blog" journal. It is helping me to keep track of the swings I am going through as I work towards making the decision to stay in Israel or to leave.

So far, my writing has been a private affair. I've told almost no one about it, and have not worked on getting linked to others' bloggs. As of right now, I've had only 39 "hits" on the my site (and most of them have come from me!). If I get myself linked into others' blogspots, I know that is going to change very quickly, so I've got some serious issues to take into consideration as I continue my writing:

(1) I spoke to a friend "Tova" today who lives here. Her father (who lives in the U.S.) worries terribly about her. Tova said she would not want her father to see my site because it makes the situation here appear even worse than it does in his imagination. Is this the Israel that I want to portray to the public?

(2) Perhaps even more important, is the impact that my writing might have on tourists considering coming to Israel to visit. The tourist industry has suffered terribly over the past year and half, which has translated into a real loss of money for people here (including a number of my friends who are tour-guides, or educators for visiting youth program ). My ruminations about my own fears living here, have the potential to discourage those few who are still thinking about coming to Israel for business, to visit family members, or to show their support.

Taking these issues into serious consideration, I've composed a blog "manifesto"
Please read the manifesto which gives some context to the rest of my writing!

2002-04-11T10:09:00.000+03:00

HOPING FOR REJECTION?

I am paralyzed by the decision about whether Mitch and I should leave our friends, apartment and lives here in Israel and move back to the U.S.

I am still waiting to hear about two post-docs that I applied for here in Israel. If I don't get either one, we will most probably move back to the U.S.

I am ashamed of myself; but this morning I actually woke up hoping to get rejected from both the universities here. That way, our decision will
have been made for us, and we can avoid the existential questions of where we belong, and where we should build our home and our lives.

Rather than pondering the issue of identity (Who am I? An American Jew? Or a Jew?) and loyalites (Do I throw my fate in with Israel?),
the immediacies and practicalities of life will take over: I applied for positions in the U.S. and Israel. I got one in the U.S. and didn't get one in Israel, so the answer is to go to the United States.

Of course I know in my heart that the solution is not so neat.

Afterall, if we leave so that I can take the one-year position in the U.S., we will have to consider whether we will return here after the year, or whether we are going back there to build our lives there. Are we leaving Israel? Or just going for a visit abroad?

How different our lives are from those of immigrants who packed little suitcases and got on boats that carried them here slowly across wide oceans, leaving their old homes behind. Cheap airfare tickets, quick travel and affluence allow us to continuously "choose" and "shape" our own lives. What a complicated luxury!

2002-04-10T08:46:00.000+03:00

BUS BOMB

I just woke up, turned on the news and found out that there was a suicide bomb on Bus 960, which travels from Jerusalem to Haifa. I'm scheduled to go speak at the University of Haifa next week, and was (am?) planning to take that bus.

My fear for my own life and for Mitch's life is very real. But my feelings of guilt about leaving the country are also debilitating.

We have a comfortable diaspora home to return to. Most people here, however, do not. For them, this is their home and this is all they have. Am I in this national project with them for real? Or not?

2002-04-09T22:47:00.000+03:00

FEELING CONNECTED

As I explained in my last posting, I am terrified of taking busses here in Israel these days. I'm also scared in just about any public place: malls, coffee shops, grocery stores. Mitch (my husband), on the other hand, is calm and unafraid. He is comforted by the low statistical chances of getting blown up (which are apparently lower than the chances of getting into a car accident here). I, however, don't get much solace from this very rational appraoch.

He did manage to convince me today that we should take the busses instead of taxis. We went all around town, and are home alive safe and alive.

A number of friends (here in Jeusalem) called me today to chat about this and that. Recently I've started to feel like we are all looking out for each other, in a way that is qualitatively different from the way my friends "checked in" with each other in the United States. Not that in the U.S. my friends and I weren't concerned about one another's welfare. But there - each individual's welfare was her own. Here, we all seem to be in this same difficult national situation together.

That sense of connection extends beyond my circle of friends, to those who live in my apartment building, to the people who shop in the same grocery store as I, and to the many families who have lost loved ones in this war. When I think of that sense of connection, I feel like this is my home.

But.... sigh..... I still miss America.

2002-04-09T11:09:00.000+03:00

ARE TAXIS SAFER THAN BUSSES?

It's finally a sunny morning in Jersualem, after many days of rain. My husband and I are going out to run a couple of errands. He's going to Magen David Adom (Israel's "Red Cross") to meet with someone about setting up his volunteer shifts, and we are going to a book fair.

Bus fare for the trip will cost 10 shekel each way for the two of us (about $2.00). A cab will cost about 25 shekel. We're trying to save money and should go for the cheaper option, but I'm really scared of bus-riding suicide-bombers. I used to take busses everywhere, but haven't gotten on one in about a month. Maybe the taxis, though, are just as unsafe. I can't help but wondering what will happen if my cab is sitting at a red light and a bomb goes off on the bus next to it. Will I get blown up too?

If my safety is not insured anywhere anyway, is it really worth paying the extra 15 shekel?

2002-04-09T01:06:00.000+03:00

TRYING TO GET ROOTED

My husband has been out of work for months. He is a computer programmer who arrived in Israel when the hi-tech start-up industry was booming. Without ever beginning his job search officially, he had about five offers to choose from. Then the economy took a nose-dive, the market turned and his company closed. He's been unemployed since. Sending in resumes, going on job interviews all around the country, but no luck so far.

Since he never became a citizen, he hasn't been able to collect unemployment - which so many of our friends are doing now, as they bide time, waiting to find a job. And it's too late now. If he "makes aliya" today, he will not be able to collect unemployment for the year and a half that he worked here on a tourist visa.

In the meantime, I'm not working either. I've applied for academic positions here and in the United States, which would begin this fall. I've secured one post-doc in the U.S. and am still waiting to hear from two that I've applied to here in Israel. What will happen if I get one of them? How am I going to decide which to take? How will we decide if we should stay here? Or leave?

This morning I woke up and imagined what it would be like waking up knowing that we were REALLY here. Not just here for a few more weeks or months, but really here. We'd finally buy a washing machine, light fixtures and book shelves. We'd frame pictures and hang them on the wall. And when asked at the bank or the post office to provide our ID numbers, we'd have Israeli numbers to give, and wouldn't have to fight with bureaucrats about how to enter our nine-digit U.S. passport numbers into their computer systems.

If I were to take a post-doc here, that's what we would do. We would become citizens and we'd stop living life in limbo.
But still - after all these years here, I can't accept it. I still cannot imagine rooting myself here. What's really troublesome, though, is that I'm also having a very hard time imagining moving back to the U.S., where I think I'd feel very disconnected.

I'll try to explain this a little more in my next entry.

2002-04-08T10:34:00.000+03:00

INTRODUCTIONS

I have been living in Israel on an off for about five years now, but have not become a citizen because I have not made up my mind about whether to stay or leave. This living in limbo – having not decided where my home is – has created lots of tensions.

A couple of years ago, when I was still a graduate student, such tensions were relatively minor. When I would go “home” (to my parents in the United States) for Passover, I’d have to decide if I should schlep my winter coat and sweaters back to Israel with me. Or would I be back in the United States by the time winter comes? I'd also have to decide how many bottles of contact lens solution to buy at CVS (where it’s significantly cheaper than it is in Israel). If I knew how many months I had left there, the answer would be easy. But I never did.

Was I going back to Israel to settle? Or just for another research stint?

At a certain point (about three years ago) I finally made up my mind to leave. Things hadn’t been going well for me. I was having trouble communicating with my advisor long-distance (who was in the United States), which was making it hard for me to concentrate on finishing my dissertation. I was also lonely and not very happy with the dating scene. And, although my Hebrew was good, and I had even found a couple of teaching jobs, I still didn’t feel like I “fit in” or “found myself” in Israeli society.

I packed up all my stuff, went back to the U.S. and spent a year finishing my PhD.

During that year, my American boyfriend moved to Israel. After months of transatlantic phonecalls and emails, he convinced me to join him. I did. Packed my bags again and traveled across the ocean. I thought we’d get engaged and then I’d talk him into moving back with me to the U.S. That was two years ago and we are still here (We’ve gotten married since). I’ve gotten much more attached to Israel and to my life here, and he does not want to leave. But neither one of us has become a citizen and we still haven’t made the big decision: To Stay or To Leave?

Life’s complications are brewing to a head and we’ll have to make up our minds soon.
More tomorrow…..