Shavuot, the Lonesome Holiday

I wonder how many people in the world knew that yesterday was Shavuot. I wonder how many people in the world -- including Jewish people -- have never heard of Shavuot. How many Jewish people in the world - whether they've heard of Shavuot or not - have any idea what the holiday is all about?

I'm happy to say that here in Sderot, the town and the people did the holiday proud - more than I remember ever seeing before. The town sponsored a celebration two days before the holiday (on Erev Erev Shavuot). The supermarkets had special displays. And of course there was a run on cheese and milk products.

At night just about all the synagogues in town kept their lights on so men could learn all night. And a nice, quiet night it was, too.

Why Shavuot is my favorite holiday:I like all the holidays. Everyone has a favorite, though, don't they? Ask them and they'll tell you, "Pesach," or "Succoth." My favorite, as a kid, used to be Chanuka. But nobody says "Shavuot." Why? Because there is nothing special for kids on this holiday?

Shavuot should not be lonesome anymore. I call it my favorite holiday, not because of the food, or the cheese, or even the custom of staying up all night. I like the message of Shavuot.

The whole world seems to be in a state of advanced confusion. Look at what's happening in Bangkok -- there's no reason for all the harm and destruction. Look at what's happening in America's gulf coast. Again -- no good reason for all the damage from the oil leaks. Take another look at America and tell me if you aren't at least a little bit ashamed at how people of different political parties relate to each other?

Right in the middle of all the confusion and chaos comes this quiet little holiday that -- unbeknownst to most of the world -- ties everything together. You see, Shavuot is so named because we are told to count 7 weeks from Pesach. 7 weeks and a day after Moses and the Israelites left Egypt, they received the Torah, including the Ten Commandments.

The world may not want to accept that the Torah has solutions to all the problems in the world. Even most of us - Jewish people - find it hard to believe that the Torah contains all the answers. Even religious Jews get tempted to look to other sources for knowledge and inspiration. And that's probably a good thing; people were put on the world to think and use their minds. But maybe we've depended too much on our own minds and that's what's gotten us into trouble.

People make mistakes. Little mistakes lead to financial disasters and environmental catastrophes. The Torah has no mistakes. My grandmother used to say everyone should follow the Ten Commandments.

If everyone did as my grandmother said and respected and honored the Ten Commandments, then Shavuot might be the favorite holiday for a lot of people. Chances are that if everyone did as my grandmother said and respected the Ten Commandments, we wouldn't see so much confusion in the world today.

Make this life an Adventure.

"We Did Our Jobs"

The evening air is beautiful. After a day of winds and dust and a little rain, a nice spring breeze brings memories of gentler days gone by.

It's quiet in Sderot. That is its greatest attraction. We are not overwhelmed with traffic or factories or even loud people.

It's quiet here. An evening breeze brushing away some clouds so we can see the stars completes the scene. Whatever struggles we find ourselves in - personal or otherwise - it's easy to let them go, on a quiet, cool evening like this.

Malka has watched me go through the pains of job-hunting. She has asked why I'm here, why I stay here, if I don't fit in. She has a point.

Logically, there is no reason for me to be jobless. There is no reasonable explanation for the fact that nobody will hire me to teach here. Even the school directors and the head teachers look at my resume and ask me why nobody hires me. Then they turn around and say, "I'll have to . . . ." Then they fill in the blank with some lame excuse for not hiring me then and there. And of course I never hear from them again.

"Why do you stay here if nobody wants you here?" Malka's question. My answer, "SOMEBODY wants me here."

"We stay because .... Anatevka is our home." Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof.

Last week, when I went to Petach Tikva for a job interview, I really expected a different outcome. Why would the English coordinator invite me to come all the way from Sderot, if she didn't believe there was something to benefit from my coming there? By now I guess I shouldn't even be asking that question. Or looking for any other hint of professionalism or competence in those doing the hiring.

With the English Coordinator's first couple questions, it was fairly clear she was not in a hiring mood. I had thought she had scheduled the interview for a time when she would be free from other duties. But it turns out, it only occupied the last 5 to 10 minutes of a break between classes. I guess that's how serious she was about finding a teacher.

All was not lost from this little adventure. Not at all. Just the opposite. Perhaps they would not hire me to teach in their classes. But SOMEBODY wanted me to go there.

Some sort of synchronicity: Things happen in Israel which I don't believe occur with the same frequency in other countries. Unique things. When I walked into the teachers' room in Petach Tikva, a dozen teachers were standing around, too busy to notice me. The handy-man was the only one actually working on something, so I went to him to ask him where to find a certain teacher.

He stopped what he was doing and stared at me. I stared back in mutual recognition.

"I know you," he said.
"We were in miluim (army reserves) together." I said.

His name was David and he looked good after more than 20 years. After my 10 minute interview with the English coordinator, David and I had tea together, and a good conversation. We recalled the fellows that were in our unit, and some of our escapades during the first Intifada.

"It was a good plugah (company)" I said.
With the greatest melding of humility and pride, David said, "We did our jobs."

We did our jobs. Is there a better way to say it? We are in Israel because it's our job. We live here or there in Israel because it's our job. We work as teachers and business people and cashiers and janitors in Israel because it's our job. It's what keeps the country going.

Here was David who did his fair share of combat duty and now has a son in the army. Here he was, still doing his job, working as a handy man in a high school.

"SOMEBODY wants me here," I tell Malka. I haven't done my job yet.

Maybe no school will have me. Maybe I'll never get to do in Israel what I am most qualified to do. Maybe people will continue to abuse my time and talents. And maybe it will always be hard to squeeze by month after month, day after day.

And maybe Sderot will never really feel like home. But it is home now. And tonight we have a beautiful star-lit night to enjoy, with a relaxing breeze. We're doing our job.

Images of Israel – An Embedded Dream

by Jerry Waxman
Sderot Israel

It’s been difficult, but enlightening; trying to show Malka what I see in this place – why I came to Sderot – why I stay in Israel. To her, my home should be in America, where my family is.

On the surface there is nothing to make the case that I belong here – neither in Sderot nor in Israel. I knew nobody in this town when I came here. I hardly knew anybody in the country. I have not found a job,so there’s been no income. The prices on everything here are really high, especially with our financial straits.