Walrus

The time has come, the Walrus says, to speak of other things .............

So, I have been back in the US OF A for 3 weeks.  I have caught up with friends, with doctors visits, with trips to the gym.

And now I am off again - to Africa, the mother, my mother.

If my attempt to blog from Germany was unsuccessful, the same may prove on this next trip.

I am going to Namibia (Southwest Africa) for 12 nights, and then to Johannesburg, the city of my birth.

So I shall probably fill you in on my return, and hopefully there will also be photos

Au revoir, lehitraot, tot siens, auf wiedersehen

Adventures Continued

Here I sit, at my desk, back in the US of A, in the twilight zone of jetlag, caught between cultures, and on top of it, preparing for yet another adventure.  At the beginning of June I am off to Southwest, and Southern Africa!

My last week in Germany and Israel was super intense.  On the morning of Holocaust Memorial Day I took the train to the Grunewald Station, and went to Track 17.  This is in an elegant area of Berlin - beautiful homes and embassies are situated here.  It is from Track 17 that the Jews and other undesirables; Gypsies, homosexuals, were rounded up and put in cattle cars and sent to their final destination.  I find it difficult to put into words the feelings I experienced there. I met an Israeli couple, and we both just looked at each other and shrugged. She said a word in Hebrew to me 'hallucination.' That says it all.

Then I went to my nephew and his family. His daughters are in a "Wald Kindergarten." A forest kindergarten. That Friday night Spring was celebrated.  We all went to the lush and glowing green forest where the men brought in a maypole, and the women collected wildflowers and there was a symbolic wedding, and we danced around the maypole, all singing to the earth mother.  Another hallucination - I felt I was in a Midsummer Night's Dream.  Magical.

Then back to Israel to Memorial Day.  On the eve of Memorial Day we attended a collective ceremony in Hayarkon Garden in Tel Aviv.  Collective - the shared experience of Jews and Palestinians all caught in this web of sadness and pain, yet still daring to hope.

And the next day - on the kibbutz - our shared sorrow.  After the ceremony we (kibbutz members and friends) went to the home of a member. We sat outside on the balcony, under the shade of a plane tree, overlooking the Jezreel Valley.  A patchwork of greens, gold, platinum.  Mt. Tabor always there, always present.  And we spoke, each one of us, of how we first heard the news of our loved ones' deaths. We all remember each and every detail - and as we all said, the passage of time never eases our pain.  Somehow it seems to be more diffcult with each passing year, a bottomless pit of grief. But it felt very good to talk about it, and laugh, and to bask in the warmth of caring and love.

And life goes on - new adventures await.

note

Please note, the previous entry, although written on my first day in Berlin, was only published on May 11, as for some reason I could not publish it in Berlin.  My trip is now complete and I am back in the States. Soon I will publish further impressions of my trip in general.

Adventures

This morning I arrived in Berlin. This is my first visit here and I am now sitting in a Hotel room in the Hackescher Markt.

My Israeli nephew is doing a postdoc at the Max Planck Institute in Jena, in East Germany.  I had planned to visit him and his family during my trip to Israel. When we discussed dates, the best time for him is for me to come this Thursday, the 2nd of May. I looked at my calendar and saw it is Holocaust Memorial Day.

‘Nothing like coming directly to the source,” I said to him, rather grimly. It certainly has not escaped my attention that on this day I will be taking a train from Berlin to East Germany. On top of it I have to change trains in Erfurt, which is where the ovens for the gas chambers were made.

So here I sit in a cafe looking at the constant parade of people. It all feels so familiar. Why I wonder? Is it from the many movies and documentaries I have seen, or the fact that bauhaus architecture is very prevalent in Tel Aviv.  I walked around the area after I arrived because I always do that in a new city. I love to walk around feeling the energy of a city that is new to me.  The area in which I am situated was apparently a largely Jewish area before the war.  I am enjoying a Berliner Pilsener and digesting the sites I came across in my wanderings.

I walk into an interesting looking lane and there I find OttoWeidt's brush factory.  Otto Weidt, a non Jewish  man, employed Jews who were blind and deaf during the war. Of course this was forbidden. This incredible man and his wife and a few friends employed Jews and hid them during raids. They managed to do this for at least two years, until someone gave them away.  The factory is now a modest memorial. Everything is exactly as it was, the rooms, the workbenches, and the hiding places.

 I exit quite overwhelmed and stumble across the Anne Frank Centre in the very same alley.  It is a nonprofit association headquartered in Berlin and the German Partner of the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam.  The work they do there is really admirable. getting young people involved and countering anti-Semitism and racism.  I wish I could say, and so do they, I am sure, that their work is done.  Unfortunately it is not, and may never be.

Enough for a day, back to my hotel to rest and to contemplate.

Almost Off Again

Tomorrow I leave for Israel.

Post elections.  It should be interesting. That is one thing about Israel I can say for sure. It is never not interesting.

Today my sister sent me an article by David Grossman.  He is so articulate, intelligent, and sensitive. What struck me in particular, is that these are the same conclusions I have come to over the last few years, especially since our last election.

I paraphrase:

"There are moments in the life of a nation, or an individual, where one asks oneself - "how is this possible?" "How did this happen?" It is the same sense of horror and awe we have when there is a tsunami, or flood, or earthquake.  Acts of nature.  Possibly there are explanations, but at this moment we have none and we have to confront the reality of what has happened and come to terms with it.  We cannot control these things, what we can do is decide on our own course of action.

Every day one must ensure that one does not succumb to racism, power, narrow mindedness, exploitation and one must continue to believe, maybe with the innocence of a child, that there is hope for peace, and equality, and justice between nations. If my government or elected officials do not believe in, or practise these principles, I will continue to do so,  and I shall practise them in my own small way."


(with apologies to David Grossman whose article I have translated and summarised)

So it is with these thoughts and practises and a sense of excitement at seeing family and friends that I leave.

The Aftermath

Hopefully the end of this horrendous saga.

5 dead mice.  Not 3 blind mice.  5 dead mice.

10 days of no droppings,  no mice pee, no sounds of traps snapping shut.

However, I am not letting up my guard, not for one second.

I felt close to the edge of a psychotic break.  My nerves are slowly settling down, or whatever it is nerves do, but just one little cumin seed poop could send me hurtling over the abyss.

I know now not to waste any money on promises of peppermint oil (snake oil in disguise?) sonic sounds, blue lights.  Lethal, certain, and swift death comes via deadly traps.  Merciless, that is me.

And, on a different note, qe have been blessed with a full week of sun - quite glorious. The air sparkles, freshly rinsed and clean.  Tulips in the garden, lilies, orange poppies dancing in the breeze, and the sounds of sneezes and bird song fill the space around.

Here is my haiku to spring


carpets of blossoms
warm rays feathery carress
first hints of a sneeze


My first home was a cottage in Rockridge. I decided on it because, amongst other things,  it reminded me of my room on the kibbutz. Right outside my bedroom window was an olive tree.  In the spring lovely yellow flowers appeared.  Also, in the spring, I began to sneeze and splutter and cough. My eyes watered. I went for allergy testing and discovered that I am allergic to the blossoms of olive trees!!! Who would have thunk.

Every single year since I arrived in California an article appears in The Chronicle in March.  Here is a synopsis:

This year allergy season is exceptionally bad in the Bay Area because of:

the drought
too many rains
the fires
the winds which trap the pollen inland
whatever it may be, every spring is AWAYS the worst it has ever been

Major Freak Out

Oh Goodness, two mice dead - how many to go.

I feel just awful. After 6 weeks of sonic devices and humane traps and absolutely no outcome, I invested in a couple of inhumane traps.  After a few nights of droppings around the traps I was about to give up and get rid of all of them.  I mistakenly left one out that same night, and as I was falling asleep - whup, a lethal chop. I did not go to check on anything, I knew what it was and couldn't face it. The next morning I peeked between my fingers and yes - saw it all. Paper bags, rubber gloves, dry heaves, heavy waves of guilt and nausea overcame me, and the thing landed in the garbaage.  Now I have been wracked with guilt at taking a life, and no one is able to reassure me.  Yesterday I was conducting a skype consultation at 8.00 a.m. when, out of the corner of my eye a mouse ran into my study.   Sooooo, consultation with landlords, more money spent on traps, both lethal and 'humane' - traps set and early this morning - another one.  Goodness knows how many there are.  I am mostly allergic to cats and never know how allergic I am until I spend some time with them!

It has been pouring with rain and water has been coming into my  bedroom.  Ants are everywhere, I kind of feel like I am in a house of horrors.  As I have written about before, I do not peacefully coexist with all of God's little creatures.  I know on the evolutionary scale mice and ants are fairly mild, but obviously in my limbic system the fight or flight reaction is activated - I am no longer dealing with large predatory animals, but for me these smaller versions are not much different.