What a Week!!!

This whole week went by way way way too fast!  I can’t believe I’ve already taught my first week of English classes….and I didn’t die…  I think what makes this time so easy for me is the fact that I truly love what I do. I know I joke about the occasional roach or snake sighting, but it’s all part of the job (if you can even call it that).  What I prefer to call this is my niche. Everyone out there has something that they are really keen at doing and have just a natural knack for. Now, I’m not going so far as to say I’m the best at what I do, actually on the contrary, I think I have a very long way to go in order to be the kind of person I desire to become. But, this is a very nice start I must say!

The first thing I love about my time in Israel are the people.  You can have loads of money, status, power, but if you don’t have the vital relationships, which house your inner being and allow your true self to shine through, what quality of life do you actually have?  People bring out you.  The specific relationships each person has with another bring out the raw parts of their own being, whether that being is sarcastic, genuine, loving, cold, adorable, devious, or what have you…it’s all you.  The ideal person of course is the one that gets down to the authentic you….the you you.  That particular person is a difficult one to find, one might think, some people search their whole lives to find that the only true person who knows them the best is God.  But, I say to you this, God did not make us in the likeness of himself to only be known by Him. No.  So, should we blame God for not creating enough people to choose who to peel back our onion layers to.  I say no to that as well.  It’s up to us to be authentic, to be vulnerable, to let someone see you in not the best light, to be human.  Obviously easier said then done, but rest assured, once you battle this demon inside to always be perfect all the time and actually let the “I really didn’t feel like taking a shower today, so I just sprayed an extra squirt of bodysplash on” person show through, you will kick yourself for not doing it sooner.

Why do I bring this up? This, what may seem like an anomaly of a thought, because sometimes the easiest people to be yourself around are perfect strangers.  Now I’m not saying you have to go the woman standing in front of you at the grocery store and tell her your life’s story and your childrens’ stories, and how your husband hates his job, or how you can never make the same apple pie your grandma used to make and it just kills you….Unless you have a minimum of twenty cats this is not an appropriate vulnerability exercise.  All I’m saying is recognize a good deed, or share a moment with an acquaintance from work who secretly gets on your nerves, or go out of your way to make someone laugh, or help someone through a rough time.  Befriend a stranger and you have no idea what may happen; that stranger or acquaintance may become a friend for life or be slightly impacted by something you did or said.

The easiest people I find it is to be myself around are two kinds of people. One, my family and very close friends, because it really doesn’t matter how much of a goof you look in front of them because they will love you anyways. Two, strangers because you will most likely only see them once in your entire life.  Or, there is the dreaded category three: acquaintances, but those people you may never see again, or they may become a friend for life….so really what do you have to lose?  The men in the shelter are not shy about talking to me eventhough they’ve only known me two weeks.  Vitaly, whom I thought I would never get more than two words out of if I were lucky and I saw a pig fly out of my window, now raises his hands, tries to be the first in line to use the computer, and repeatedly shakes my hand to say “Hi, my name is Vitaly. How are you today?”  He puts himself out there, in the open, naked and vulnerable.  It’s admirable to say the least.  Vitaly is an alcoholic, and the only reason I know that is because the first sentence he typed on Microsoft Word was, “I don’t drink vodka anymore.” And, I don’t know if that was a courageous thing for him or not, but I don’t know many people who would sit down in front of a perfect stranger and type, “I don’t look at porn anymore” or “I don’t cheat on my husband anymore.”

I realize there are two ways of looking at that act.  Some counselors will say if you write it or type it you’re thinking about it, which to a certain degree I do validate.  However, there is another side to the coin, which is showing how number one, this person is able to identify they have or had a problem, and two, be able to be held accountable of this problem by not allowing themselves to partake anymore.  Accountability, this is exactly what we need more of.  If we had accountability we wouldn’t have bred this mentality “Oh, no matter what I’ll have someone to take care of me”……and yes, that was a jab at our newly proposed healthcare policy.  I’m sorry I don’t wish to pay for someone else’s healthcare insurance who wears nicer clothes than I do, and has a playstation3 thingy and a Gucci purse, but because their insurance card says Medicaid, this means they are privey to me paying for their lovely visit to the ER because Timmy over here decided it would be a fun idea to jump on top of the glass coffee table, and because mommy doesn’t watch Timmy because she obviously has more important things to do than be a parent, I should be held accountable of Timmy’s unforeseen misfortune...right?!!?!??!  (ugh….I know I just got on my soap box, but promise me if I was there in person talking with you right now it could have been much worse, and there is no amount of Pinot Noir in Napa Valley that could calm me down)  Point is if we had shelters for people who just can’t prioritize their money we might be able to decrease the homeless rate nationally and internationally right there.

But back to the guys….tomorrow I’m going to give them their first quiz, examining how much information they were able to retain from last week's lesson.  I also gave them a writing assignment I thought would be interesting for both them to do and for me to read.  I wanted to get an idea of what their writing style is like as well as give them a platform to tell me more about themselves, and indirectly you as well.  Because Passover is soon approaching (Monday the 29^th), I told them to write about a time in their lives where they did not listen to God, and what was the result of that action?  This was suppose to parallel the tale of Pharaoh not heeding Moses’ warning from God to let the Jewish slaves go.  As a result to Pharaoh’s disobedience, God bestowed upon Egypt many plagues, and of course the last being the most drastic, killing all of the first-born Egyptian sons.  Needless to say, I’m excited to receive these writing assignments, and now pose the question to all of you. If you would like to write me about your thoughts please feel free to send me an email at richter.tikva@gmail.com. I promise not to name names, but I am curious.  Next blog I'll reveal a time that I did not listen to God when he was calling me to do something.

Wishes, hopes, and dreams. Today we did the feeding in the park.  I want so bad for the women of Tel Aviv to have a shelter to go to.  It just really scares me to think girls as young as 14 or 15 thrust into a world of sex-trafficking and made to partake in awful and unsafe acts in exchange for money, which they don’t even get to keep most of it.  Everything that we would shield our daughters, sisters, nieces, and granddaughters from, these women have to endure on a daily basis. It becomes a perpetual hole that just keeps digging itself deeper and deeper until the debt is so large, it’s nearly impossible to see an end to this inferno.  I am of the belief you can’t help those who don’t want to help themselves, and I think that is why I love working at the Men' shelter, but what about those who cry out, but can’t be heard?  What about the women of Tel Aviv-Yafo?  I’m sure they have voices, and I know everytime they step in that line to get food, that is a cry, but where do they go?  Gene is always saying to me, “when you’re not ok, tell me, because everytime I ask you if you’re cold or if you’re hungry, you always say you’re ok.”  In comparison to these women, these girls, I am ok, I’m more than ok….after this I get to go home to a family that loves me and a warm bed and food.  Where do the women of Tel Aviv go?  I wish and I hope someday I will have that answer….I wish someday I’ll be able to say to the Women's Shelter, to their home.

“U is for…..”

Ok….don’t be mad. I haven’t updated in a while. My first reason is for the first couple of days preceding my last update I really didn’t do anything aside from update the website and prepare for the weeks to come, because Gene and I decided that work would start on the 21^st. (that would be yesterday). However, right after I made the conscious decision not to update a lot of things started to go on.  Then, it wasn’t a matter of I have nothing to write about, but instead just the opposite; I have too much to write!  So, the daunting task of relaying the excursion of my last few days can be put off no longer, because….well…you deserve to know, and I want to tell you J.

Last Friday was the beginning of Shabbat, which is the equivalent of a worship day. It starts Friday night and goes until sundown on Saturday night.  On this day it is nearly impossible to find anything open (grocery stores, restaurants, and even gas stations) Because Israel is a non-secular society, the whole country adheres to rabbinic law. (Basically what God says….goes!)  So, Friday night I went to my first Shabbat service with Gene’s congregation.  Everyone there was so nice and I was invited to many to two סֵדֶר‎ seders (ritual feast) for פֶּסַח Pesach (Passover).  Seder literally translates to “arrangement” or “order” because everything from the food to the order at which things are served or said has a specific place and a specific meaning. This is also why you will find seders all around the world to be relatively the same regardless of demographic cultures.

Among being invited to two seders, I was asked that Friday night to give a speech in front of Gene’s congregation.  Now, speeches are not my, how you say….forté, but I actually did fairly well. I think the fact that I had no clue who anyone was helped a little. Also an interesting aspect of the service was it was in Hebrew and had a Russian translator, for the English speakers (which was me and two other people) we had special ear pieces which translated the service into English for us….very UN-like. Once the service was over, I said goodbye, dosvidanya, and gave kisses to all the babushkas who now are determined to fatten my up like a Thanksgiving turkey.  Then I proceeded to turn my little flashlight on and guide myself home, while informing all the vipers to stay away from me……I MEAN IT!!!

Saturday was a big day.  Every Saturday is feeding day in the park by the Recovery Center.  This is where a small group of us prepare food in a kitchen close to the park and at 1800 or so we distribute the food to the drug addicts and prostitutes.  I arrived to the kitchen and Lena, Gene’s wife was running that kitchen like a 5-star Michelin restaurant…..I’m sure the French Laundry has nothing on her. (What out Thomas Keller!!)  Although it was a tiny kitchen, everyone had their place and it moved rather smoothly.  Upstairs there was an Ethiopian service taking place. Tel Aviv is riddled with Ethiopians. And I believe this particular congregation was of the charismatic persuasion because occasionally form the bellows of the kitchen I heard the occasion national geographic “war cry”.  I’m not trying to be prejudice at all, just a simple observation and trying affiliate it with something everyone can recognize and understand.  Actually, I went up to observe the service and it was quite beautiful. The music scale is very similar to carnatic style (monophonic songs).  Once the food was prepared, we brought it to the park.  Unfortunately, there were not a lot of people and the distribution took longer because there were Israeli police on scene as crowd control.  Early that day the community had planned a demonstration to show the Israeli government their displeasure in the deportation of its refugees.  Many Ethiopian refugees as well as Russian refugees reside in this community, which is just mere block from downtown Tel Aviv.  The town itself I would equate to Harlem in New York City (yup…that’s where I’m working.)

Afterwards, Gene took me to a street, once again close to where I work, which is Tel Aviv’s “Red Light District”, and yes, there actually is a “hous wit da red door” (for all of you Taken fans)  This street is about your average Chicago city block in length and it has many portals of entrance to this huge compound, which Gene tells me is actually interconnected on the inside; like one big brothel.  Each entrance is guarded by a man, whose primary job is to, what else, we’ll say gather patrons.

I’ve come to learn that many women are promised a job, free passage, clothes, money, virtually anything to get them to into trafficking.  The women leave with these delusions of grandeur, thinking that this is their ticket of our poverty and oppression, but in reality it is their ticket into a far greater circle of hell.  Often sold by the men who have befriended them for the moment, or in some circumstances, their boyfriends, these women are indebted to their owners for every cost they’ve occurred (plane ticket, purchase price).  The lifestyle becomes all the bad parts of Memoirs of a Geisha, but without the glamorizing shadow of Hollywood and status.  It is my hope and my dream to someday offer these women a chance to have a Recovery Center, much like the men.

 (Boris and Dima fixing the van....Boris is working so hard....
  Dima is under the van)

As for the men, Sunday was my first day teaching.  Nerves were the least of my worries.   I was worried none of them would understand me, or care to learn. I had taught myself in Russian everything that I was going to teach them in English. So we began with the letters of the alphabet and the difference between the Russian and English alphabet. (which I don’t know if you ever have seen Russian letter, but they look almost nothing like ours……so this process took quite a bit of time;-)  However, from the very instant I began teaching I knew my expectations of all

the men were far too low. Everyone, and I mean  EVERYONE, were taking notes and asking questions, and reciting, and practicing with each other. As Gene would say, “they have shocked me” (meaning amazed). From then on I knew this would be a life changing experience for them, as well as for me. 

So as we continued on with the alphabet we finally got down to the letter “u”. But, because “u” is a vowel it makes two sounds “uh” and “you”, so they wanted and example of both sounds in English words. The “uh” sound was easy, I used the word “up” and “utter”; however, the only word I could think of for the “you” sound is “uniche”…..aaaahhhh!!!. So, after a great moment of pause I finally got up the….well ya know…..and said it. Igor, my faithful translator and also one of the men in the center looked at me and said “oh but there must be another word, there must be”.  And me, with my mind in the gutter, feeling like a total jerk, finally stumbled upon a word, so I quickly shouted out “unique, unique”.  Ah, saved…..who ever knew the letter “u”’ would bring about so many emotions and levels of shame.  These are the kind of thing I’m glad they didn’t teach our kids on Sesame Street.  I blame my mother for teaching me that word, or the Egyptians who loved to have the empress guarded by many uniches…..ya know….I blame history for that word.  (ok, all the shame is off me….hahahaha).

As for the men, they are all extremely nice. On my website www.tikvaforisrael.com I have posted pictures of them with little descriptions of their personality.  I desire for all of you to know them and identify with them.  They struggle for lack of control the same way we struggle. My goal for the men is more than just teaching them English, it’s providing another form of self-expression and self-respect. I want them to not only have confidence in themselves, but confidence in God that he has control over their lives.  I believe it is a struggle for all of us to relinquish what amount of control we think we have, say to ourselves “I am not in control, but God is” and the most important aspect is trust what we are telling ourselves.  It is one thing to say it, but a completely different challenge to believe what we say.  The men have showed me a life of not regaining control, but giving control back to the rightful owner.

The Guys!!! (Back row left to right: Geana, Shasha, Zaur, Vitale; Front row left to right: Dimitry, Pasha, Anton, (Gene), Igor, Sasha, Boris)

"Chemistry brought us together...."

Well, so I didn't really ride off in my batmobile....more like a toyota, but all I did yesterday was go go go.  Gene, or Geana, which is a more accurate pronounciation of his name, picked me up at 9am (like he promised) and took me to the Recovery Center to meet the men.  In order to get the Recovery Center in Tel Aviv, we had to drive through several different towns and along the way Gene told me the meaning behind all the towns' names, which some I knew from my class in Jewish Culture, and some I didn't know. For example, one of the towns we went through is called Bene Baraq, Ben is a term to distinguish "son of" and baraq means "thunder", so this town is called literally sons of thunder.....I think I kind of want to name my first son Baraq..no not Barack (I would pay a lot of money to see the look on my mom's face telling her I'm going to name my first son Barack....i die:-) 

While on our way to the Recovery Center, Gene informed me about this one place that has excellent falafals (for those who don’t know what falafals are I will post a picture of them), delicious little chickpea burgers that you stick in a pita. However, the other day Palestinians were throwing rocks at cars and people, so Gene thought it would be best to grab one on another day.  Oh, by the way Gene loves to “scare me”. Right after he picks me up from the airport and drives me to my apartment, he jokingly asks if I have a flashlight (which I don’t) and then proceeds to tell me about watching for snakes.  Then the next day when he picked me up to drive to the Recovery center, he bestowed upon me the rock-throwing story.  After every “story” Gene asks “Have I scared you yet?”, to which I reply with “No, but let’s not talk about the snakes anymore.”

Finally getting to the Recovery Center, which is actually just a two bedroom apartment, meant to house 10 men! There is another apartment, which I haven’t seen yet that is suppose to house another 5.  Needless to say it’s a little cramped. The men are so wonderful; everyone is very polite and inviting. They immediately asked me if I wanted some chai or café and pulled out my chair for me.  We were greeted by Boris, who used to be an addict, but now is recovered and works as a guide in the house.  So in my best Russian I shouted privet (hello) to which Boris replied with Shalom ;-/  After my failed attempt at a warm greeting I found out later that shalom is the only hebrew word Boris knows; he was just being cheaky.

            My thought process from then on was as follows:

• This house kind of reminds me of the one in the movie “Taken”, should I be scared?

• Oh wow, the men are so nice!

• I wish American men were this accommodating….geesh!

The more I began talking with the men (Gene had to translate) the more I saw each and every one of their personalities.  Igor is smart, but very sensitive (he knows the most English out of all the men), Zaur also knows a lot more English and is quite inquisitive, he wanted to know what Chicago is like (he actually lived in New York for eight years and calls the type of English he speaks “street English”, which I think means slang).  Paul, but we call him Pasha, is the youngest at 28 and is very shy.  There are two men named Alexander, but everyone calls them the Sahsas, I don’t know why, but both are very quiet but ready to learn.  One of the Sashas had a pen and pad of paper writing down my information as Gene was translating (very cute;-) Then Dimitry is always smiling and willing to lend a hand. And then, of course there is Boris, he is a real ham.  I told the men to ask me anything and that I’m a very open person, so Boris right away asked “how do you keep your fitness?”  Gene shot him a dirty look and Boris apologized but said to Gene “she said we could ask her anything!”……(I’m guessing that was a little bit my fault for saying so.)  There is another man, but I can’t remember his name, he is another guide like Boris, but much heavier, so the other men always refer to him at “the round one”.

Also, as I was explaining a little bit about my background in biology and chemistry, Pasha interjected with a huge grin on his face “oh chemistry we all here study chemistry too!”  I immediately started laughing like crazy and finally once I pulled myself together to be able to speak again I said something I never would in my wildest dreams thought I would ever say.  I said, “It’s nice to know chemistry has brought us together”.

I spoke with the men for a little just to get an idea of what they might want to learn in terms of English. It was a consensus that they all pretty much want to learn everything.  I had not idea they haven’t had English classes, and more so that I am the one teaching them.  It’s one thing to know something, but it’s a whole other thing when you have to teach it someone else who doesn’t know it.  (I think this scares me more than the snakes and the rock throwing Palestinians combined)  I also was able to get some of the interests, and I found out Zaur loves to cook, so I asked the men if they all would want to learn?  All of them had a huge grin on their face, but I think “the round one” was a little more concerned about the eating part of cooking.  They also want to learn more about computers.

SO, I have a purpose here!  It seems a little daunting and like a lot of work, but this is what I asked for.  I can’t wait to get to learn more about the men there and help them.  All of them are so open and have such a desire to learn. I only hope I will meet their expectations of me…..

After the meeting, Gene took me back to my apartment where I met Sam, who is the pastor of the congregation in Tel Aviv. I feel like a giant next to him, actually I feel like a giant next to a lot of the people I’ve been meeting lately. Sam seems to be about 5’2”, an older gentleman, and his wife is a real treat!  If there ever was a reward for the best Jewish grandmother I’m sure she would win.  Case and point….after our meeting to discuss what I would like to do while in Israel, Sam and his wife took me out to lunch at Sabarro’s (yes the pizza place, this isn’t boofoo….) afterwards as I was getting up to clean my tray, she opens my pocket and starts stuffing a breadstick in it while whispering “for later, for later”.  She turns away as I stood their stunned, because no one has ever stuffed food in my pocket, so I look to see if Sam saw this; he did, and said “she’s a, how do you say?......a…..you know……a babushka!”

Nevertheless, a comedic ending to my day.   I am starting to get settled in, but still crashing around 2230.  Today is my “day to rest” says Gene, so I’m spending it updating my website and figuring out a way to teach my native tongue…I think I will start with the alphabet.  So as they say in Russian, udachi “good luck”.  (Although at this time, my phase of choice is vaya con dios “Go with God”).

"This is Israel, not the United States...."

I made it!!!!! But, not without a few stories.  My plane left at 2:34pm and I did not enjoy it for the only reason that my seat wouldn’t recline because my row was positioned in front of the row of emergency exits.  A non-reclining seat is enough to put a damper on anyone’s flight experience, especially if that seat is the most erectile seat you have ever sat in…..which it was.

Getting to JFK was really fun and full of firsts:
First.  I spoke Spanish to a stranger.
First.  I gave people directions to their departing terminal eventhough I have never step foot in JFK prior to this time.  (I memorized the terminal map)

First.  I sat at a wi-fi café during my layover and acted like I do these kind of things all the time; therefore, no one really bothered me….

The international flight was something to definitely be remembered as well.  The women I sat next to was on her way to Israel to attend her daughter’s wedding who is 22!  We had many conversations about my trip, her trip, her job, this internship, and food!  (speaking of food, yes, if you’re wondering she does fold her pizza in half to eat it, but we won’t hold that against her ‘cause she was very nice)  By the end of the flight, needless to say, I was calling her my “travel mom”

Once at the airport in Tel Aviv, I finally found Gene after kicking myself for not telling him what I look like or letting him know what I look like.  Upon meeting each other we talked about what I’m going to be doing exactly, which still has yet to be determined, so stay tuned, and where I will be staying.

Upon entering my apartment Gene decided not would be a good time to ask if I have a problem with snakes by saying something along the lines of “Make sure you a least keep your screen door closed to keep out the snakes. A few years back a woman came into her room to find a snake under her bed.”  The fist thing I did when I was alone in the apartment was check every crevice for snakes.  But if snakes are out of the picture to worry about, there are always porcupines….seriously.

Also the first five minutes in the apartment I blew my fuse.  The last straw I believe was trying to plug in an electric kettle. (excuse me for wanting tea).  Other than the kettle incident everything has been running pretty smooth. I don’t have internet in my apartment, so it’s going to be a little more laborious of a process trying to keep everything updated, but if I can find the fuse box in the dark, I’m sure I can figure out a way to have my internet. And, if I can figure out a way to have internet, I can surely figure out a concrete purpose and plan of action, so to the batmobile I go and onto the next day!

What to do at 3:32......am?

I don't how appropriate it is to post my first blog ever at this hour of the morning? I would probably equate it to giving a poor handshake or not looking someone in the eye when you introduce yourself.  Nonetheless, this is the result of the last sleepless night in America I will have for the next three months.

My last day in my hometown was spent doing a multitude of tedious tasks ranging from going to the grocery store to finishing up obligations you had promised yourself you were going to finish weeks ago.  I never got the hang of phasing your packing. (I will never be that person who packs all the clothes one day, then packs toiletries the next, then perishables, then their carry on and finally themselves). No no, I prefer the organized chaos leading up to a panic attack, followed my unmanageable histrionics...it's how I've always done things and how I probably will continue to do them.  I don't consider it procrastination because I don't allow it to creep up on me, I wait for it to set in.  This type of preparing oneself actually takes an unseeingly amount of patience and discipline; a trait I've acquired and mastered over many years.  Anywho, I am officially packed and able to get to more important things like not being able to go to sleep because I'm too excited for tomorrow, so I've decided to post my first entry in my blog and make it seem like I have no respect for the sanctity of sleep. (my mother will be so proud)

But.....I digress....

What I am really thinking is as follows:

1. DO NOT FORGET PASSPORT

2. DO NOT FORGET PASSPORT

3. I cannot wait to sink my teeth into this unique dragon fruit with a red skin and a hot pink flesh. (it's a cross between a kiwi and a papaya and ridiculously good!)

4. I am so excited to see what Light to Israel has in store for me and even more excited to see what I can do to better the organization.

5. I am so incredibly blessed that God has allowed so many beautiful people in my life and presented me with such an amazing opportunity......SO LET'S NOT BLOW IT!

6. Remember to always be honest with myself and people I come into contact with.

7. I am a frame for the masterpiece, which is God; it is my job to make sure God comes through in my actions and words.

Well my flight leaves tomorrow at 2:34 from O'hare International Airport, I plan to be on that plane, so I should probably get to bed.

"It was nice to meet you all (Tikva firmly shakes hand of reader).....I'm looking forward to conversing with you soon, but I have to say I hope our relationship isn't completely onesided, so please leave as many comments as you like....I do fine talking to myself (a conversation for a later time), but I do even better talking with all of you!"

Ciao for now!

Tikva