The last few months in pictures

 From this

to this

to this 

and, at last 

The Saga Continues

Today two men are in my house putting up an awning for the balcony.  It was supposed to have been done three weeks ago, but no matter - it is now being done.  The men are from Colombia so I have a chance to speak Spanish, to our mutual surprise.  A man from Russia put together my sideboard from Ikea, an Ethiopian worked on my kitchen cupboard.   A very religious young man, side curls and all, came into my house to put together bedroom closets.  Pleasantly surprised that: 

a) he was working and not in a yeshiva

b) he worked in a woman's house 

The Yemenite man who fixed my shutters this morning explained that they were a mess because of the stray cats who claw their way into the homes.  This is the fault, he added, of the Russian and Ukrainian women workers who feed the cats against the rules.

And just to add that everyone of these workmen who entered my house kissed the mezuzah on the door as they entered.  They touch it with their right hand and bring it to their lips.

Yesterday I went for a neighbour's birthday lunch with three other women.  As we arrived the first was sitting outside drinking wine.  We joined her.  The 4th, who had reserved a table for us at 1, arrived late. She saw us sitting at the table and immediately shouted - "why here? I booked a table for inside. I hate these outside tables, and why are you already having a drink?" The drinker explained she had arrived early and it is very pleasant outside.  

"I hate these tables," said the one who had made the reservation. "Lets take the tables from the inside to the outside."

The waitress explained this cannot be done.  Eventually, after arguments and negotiations we remained outside and told the waitress to bring three more glasses of wine, quickly.

We began to order - is it a business lunch? - yes.

Can't we get an added discount for seniors? - no.

That's not OK, we eat here often - sorry, the waitress doesn't make up the rules

Bring the wine, why is it not here yet?

Wine was served.

Lunch was eaten.

Along came the bill, paid differently in Israel than in America.  The waiter brings the bill and the customer tells them to add a certain percentage for the tip.  A tip is added in this manner, or one can pay and leave cash on the table.

Three of us paid, treating the birthday woman after many protests  Then the bill was scrutinized, the waitress asked to the table along with the supervisor. Was the tip before or after the VAT. The supervisor explained that the cash machine automatically adds the VAT. He was then asked to divide the amount by three, while he stood at the table, then to add the percentage.  After he had done the math and explained the process numerous times, it appears the reservationist was satisfied.

So the above is a snapshot of life in the holy land ......... and still I wait for appointments, emails (programs have apparently stopped working in many offices). I could not sign on a medical insurance form so the person sending it asked if they could sign for me!

OK - yes, this is the way.

Slogging

 I am trying to find the most appropriate word, or wording. for my present trials and tribulations.  Slogging through mud, treading water, sucked into quicksand, treading water.  I think by this time even Kafka-esq no longer works. 

Suffice to say I am doing my best to stay afloat and not sink into a morass of despair.

As I have written before - this ministry, that ministry. Attempting to sign in online, making phone calls, going to branches of banks that no longer exist. And  this in an all pervasive atmosphere of increasing violence and fear - fear of what the incoming government may do.  Fear that rights of LGBTQ people will be taken away, rights of women, rights of Palestinians, rights of ordinary people.  

In the midst of all this, I just want my furniture, I want to open a bank account, I want to find a way to access my accounts in the States .  Sounds so simple - it is not.

And yes, I chose this I have to see it all through. There has to be light at the end of the tunnel. Come to think of it, this has been going on for 9 months - but I do not feel warm and comforted like a foetus must feel. I am not being nourished in the womb. But I suppose that I have to cling to the hope that things will work out eventually, and the birth process will take place in a timely fashion.

Here's hoping!

De-nested

 I don't think De-nested is a legitimate word, but it should be.  I can say with certainty that I have been de-nested. Besides the fact that my name is Nesta, my astrological sign is Cancer (right on the cusp of Leo) - but let us say it is Cancer.t  Cancers love their nests.  This is what makes them feel secure in this world.  Since I made the decision to uproot and move in March of this year, I have been systematically de-nested.  I made the decision, no one forced me.  No one is 'to blame.'  I made this decision, I am OK with it, but still - I have to go through this process.  

For months now I have packed and. unpacked, shedded possessions, shredded, recycled, donated. In July a lift was sent to Israel, and since then I have lived with a minimum of things, as I have written about.  Since arriving in Israel I have lived out of two suitcases.  Unsettling - along with the endless bureaucratic hassles. I had to order furniture - and wait for it.  My bed arrived 12 days early.  I now had everything I needed for my move - a bed, a fridge, a soda stream.  So I moved two nights ago - borrowed sheets, a pillow, a towel and ....... slept in my new bed, in my new home!!!!!!!!  And, I. My lift arrived yesterday slept like a log in the bed it had taken me 15 minutes to buy!!!!!!!!  

My neighbour told that before I go to sleep I must concentrate on each corner of the room and make a wish.  I was so exhausted I forgot .... until, just before I dozed off I remembered, and did what she had told me to.   She came the next morning to check whether I had done it, thank goodness I could say yes.

Everyone here has been so very welcoming - and I have help with everything.  The thing that has stumped me is my brand new smart TV - way smarter than I ever was or will be.  I have had two nights of intensive training, tonight will be the test - have I absorbed the instructions, along with the arrival of people to install the wi fi, the housekeeping, the social worker, the nurse, the neighbours, the gardeners, the cooks. Yesterday a Russian/Ukrainian team of scary looking muscular men raced in and out of my little home carrying the boxes that had been shipped almost four months before. They gave me a piece of paper with the numbers of the boxes and scurried back and forth shouting the numbers in accented hebrew and I had to tick off each box.  They slit the boxes open and drove off leaving me and brother-in-law in a state of shock.

And so the process of renesting has begun.

Fate

 With the upsetting far tilting right results of the elections in Israel this week, I have come to terms with my fate.

From the very beginning of my life I have obviously been doomed to live in extreme, almost totalitarian countries.  Just today, this morning, right now in fact, I have come to the conclusion that this is my lot in life.  I can not flee this reality, I just have to accept it. Of course I don't have to agree with it, and I will continue to live my life by my 'rules' - I will try to treat my fellow humans as such - not lesser than, not more than, with respect dignity. I will attempt to respond to some of their extremist ways with dignity also.

Of course this is far easier said than done.  Just yesterday I experienced Israeli treatment at the Ministry of the Interior.  This is an appointment that was made six months ago.  Let us just say the treatment is not at all polite or gracious.  My sister and I were confronted by a female clerk - just a small example of her manner:  she shoved forms along the counter for me to sign.  I had to read them, of course, in Hebrew. I must have taken a little longer than she cared for - she pointed to a line and said 'sign, sign here,, what is your problem.'  I signed and she grabbed them back - maybe I signed my life away, who knows.  Before I took another breath she had given me a 'valid ID card, a new passport - changed my name officially from Nesta Rovina Lowenberg, to Nesta Rovina. Mission accomplished. As we stood to leave she gave a half smile and said 'you two killed me!"  Apparently we had kept her extremely busy!  I told her that at least it had made her morning more interesting - with a half smile she bade us shalom.

A Brand New Chapter

 Goodbye to my previous chapter. 

These photos with the children are in the very home where my life in America began 42 years ago!!!!!!!!! The children were not here at that time, but their parents were.  They picked me up at San Francisco airport.  I have known their mother for 50 years.  She took me back to the airport again, and took the photos of me leaving!!!!!!

And now 

Here I am in Israel.

Physically I arrived Saturday night.  Spiritually I am between worlds, between lives, between time zones. Officially I m-a-y be here by the end of November - hopefully with the necessary documents required for my new life here.

So please don't ask, and I know everyone is asking from a place of love and concern, and sincere enquiry - "Are you settled?"   Of course I am not settled.  It will take a long time for the clouds and sands of time and world to begin to settle and reshape.  

I felt loved and supported in the farewells, and I feel loved and supported in the welcomes.  This is enough for now.

Countdown

As the date of my departure looms closer, it feels like time is moving by even more quickly than it normally does.

The excruciating process of farewells has begun.  As painful as it is, to part from those who have been in my life for a long while, it is also heartwarming.  One forgets, with the passage of time, the part we play in each others' lives - in my case, friends, of course, but also the families and the children I have worked with.  It is so gratifying to know that I made an important contribution in their development.

15 years ago I was referred to twin girls born prematurely.  Their parents were Pakistani and were fairly new in this country.  The girls were diagnosed as failure to thrive, along with hypersensitivity, retinopathy, delayed development -  the problems of prematurity.  I saw them once a week (cuts had been made, and we could no longer see the children twice or three times a week.) The mother, of course, was overwhelmed.  She had no support  as her family were in Pakistan.  The dad worked  at a garage 7 days a week.  Slowly I began to really enjoy my visits. The mother cooperated in their treatment.  We had long talks, and the girls  smiled when I walked in.  They had lustrous black hair and lovely eyes.  One day I walked in - I didn't see them.  The mother pointed to the swing on the balcony - and there were two hard boiled eggs!  On closer observation I saw it was the girls - the parents had shaved their heads completely!  Quite a few cultures did this before the age of one in the belief that the hair will be thicker and stronger.  As ever, I became quickly accustomed to anything.

Yesterday when I went to say goodbye I found were two lovely, thriving, articulate teenagers with shining long black hair. They are in high school after the 2 year covid hiatus. They are eager students and are already looking toward college.  The mom made a lovely henna design on my hand. I had made an imprint in their lives and she made an imprint on me. 

 I awoke this morning with a feeling of warmth and gratitude.  I played an important part in many lives, and if I weren't saying goodbye, I would not have realised this. My hand is a reminder.

So this process of letting go is bittersweet, but ultimately it 'sparks joy.'  (yes Marie Kondo, the decluttering expands to many aspects of our lives.)