Finding the Right Distance

There are moments when I feel teaching is wearisome because the students don’t take their work seriously and I have the feeling I am the one who cares about their future, although deep down I know that things are much motre complex than that.

At the moment what I find hard is to witness the difficulties those kids have to face. There are those whose parents don’t seem to care; like a girl who took part in the exchange and whose mother had forgotten to check the different documents she was supposed to have with her when we went to Sweden and who had to stay behind. She joined us two days later but, when this happened, her friends told us that at home she was responsible for more things than is usually expected from a 17-year-old.

There are the kids who are brought up by a single parent (usually a mom) who can’t make ends meet or else can’t cope since she has to deal with a job and kids who have no supervision most of the time. I met one such mom the other day. She explained that she has to be up very early every morning and is so tired in the evenig that she will go to bed before her kids. As a result her eldest son stays up late, playing the guitar or chatting online. The problem is that the next day he isn’t able to wake up and thus skips school.

There is the senior who suffers from cystic fibrosis and carries oxygen bottles on her back in a rucksack. School and the coming exams are the things that keep her going. Yet, apparently, she is poorly at the moment and I fear she’ll worry she might fail her exams and thus lose her stamina.

They need our empathy and compassion but at the same time they’re not our children. They always leave in the end while we stay on. I trust that we need to show that we care and are ready to listen, answer questions even give advice . However there is only so much we can do despite our good will. We have limits but, at times, they are hard to accept.

The Last Jew

After enjoying the Physician so much, I thought I would read another Noah Gordon’s novel. So I went to one of the local bookshops. They had three. The Last Jew seemed to be the most interesting. I also picked it up because, although it is not that far from home, I have actually never been to Spain. I suspect I needed something a bit exotic.

Another reason I chose this novel, rather than the two other ones, is that I felt I wanted to know more about the Jewish community which was expelled by Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain in 1492. The Edict of Expulsion was issued against the Jews of Spain on March 31. All Jews of whatever age were ordered to leave the kingdom by the last day of July, (one day before Tisha B’Av), the “saddest day in Jewish history” and a traditional day of mourning.

It is estimated that 165,000 emigrated, 50,000 converted and 20,000 died en route. This is a low estimate; people disagree on the actual figures.

In today’s French Jewish community a lot of people are the descendants of the Spanish Jews who settled around the Mediterranean Sea, mostly in Algeria, Egypt, Morocco, Turkey and Greece.

During the twentieth century they were forced out of the countries where they had settled but their Spanish roots is reflected in their surnames; they are called Toledano, Bitton, Cardozo, Malka, Marciano…

In fact the novel is not so much about the Jews who left than those who stayed on, one teenager in particular Yonah. The book deals with his attempt at remaining a Jew when everything and almost everyone was against it. As in The Physician, its author manages to convey historical authenticity and the story rings true.

News from the Blogosphere

Swedish Chekchouka is in Israel and has found a place to live for her family. They plan to make Aliyah in July.

Imabima reminds us that today is Bloggers Unite for Human Rights day and links to various sites which deal with the issue; you can read, get advice, write letters or sign petitions on a number of various topics. I’ll also mention the link to freerice on the left of her blog. On this site you can check your vocabulary literacy and thus donate grains of rice for every correct answer.

Aliza blogs about JCC Talk on Jews of Color.

Leora deals with therapy and depression from a personal angle and has scanned the web looking for Jewish blogs about depression.

Rhubarb Cobbler

I made this cake last week for Shabbat for the first time and found it so delicious that I’ll make it again as we have a friend coming over for Friday night meal.

Rhubarb Cobbler (parve) (serves 6 people)

500 gr/1.1 lb of fresh or frozen rhubarb (I used frozen)

2 tbsp plus 1/4 cup sugar

1 1/2 cup almond milk

2 eggs

1 oz ground almonds

3.5 oz whole rice flour

If using fresh rhubarb, peel and cut it in 1/2-inch pieces. Put the rhubarb in a bowl and sprinkle with the 2 tbsp sugar. Leave aside for two hours.

Mix together the eggs and almond milk. Then add the flour, sugar and ground almonds. Mix well, making sure there are no lumps.

Put the rhubarb in a baking dish, if using frozen make sure it’s well drained. Pour the cobbler mixture on top and cook for about 40 minutes at 425°F.

More Jewish Holidays

I have already mentioned the fact that I teach in a state school and therefore get very few of the Jewish holidays, in fact only Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Mainstream Christians get all their holidays since the calendar follows their festivals and the rest of us were allowed three days off. These days were mentioned each year on an official list.

Hurray! Things have changed. The other day my friend Joelle phoned me to tell me the list had been extended to two more days, namely June the 9th and 10th (this year), that is to say Shavuot.

The most unusual element about this list is that it mentions five days for the Jews but still only three for other religious groups.

Family Tsunami

This post is probably one of the most personal I have ever written. I have lost hours of sleep over it since I got the news 10 days ago. It concerns my family, one of my brothers to be precise. I suppose I should mention that I am the eldest of four siblings but now only have two brothers; the oldest died in a car accident four years ago.

My sister-in-law had a happy childhood, or so it seemed from her girlhood stories. Sadly, her teenage and adult years have been much harder. Her mother died in a car crash when she was 15 and her father (who was a one woman’s man) stopped to take care of himself and died about 7 years later. He was the driver of the car and although he was cleared during the enquiry, I suppose he was eaten by guilt.

She soon married my brother; they had known each other since they were 17. She got pregnant two or three years later but miscarried after a few months. Her life seems to have stopped since.

She slowly ceased to attend family reunions and dinner parties. She no longer went shopping or cooked. She started getting up later and later. Of course, all this was a slow and gradual process. It might have been easier to deal with if it had been sudden.

Being quite secretive, and also guilt-ridden, my brother kept quiet about it. He always provided excuses for his wife and said she was ok. We still saw her from time to time, but ony if we visited.

5 years ago, she felt vey poorly and went to hospital for all sorts of check-ups. We all flocked there to express sympathy and support and before she left the clinic, she phoned explaining that the main problem was latent depression and that she would go to a psychiatrist to deal with the painful events of her life. Nevertheless she never consulted, not even once. However hard we tried to hint that it was necessary for her to get some help, she always had a ready answer.

A few months ago, she had to go to hospital again and almost died during a biopsy. At that point, my brother confided that she was drinking and that’s why she had been so close to death during the anaesthesia. Unfortunately when she got back home, and despite my brother’s repeated pleas, she did not alter anything in her daily routine and still addamantly refused to receive psychological help.

As might have been foreseen, my brother met someone else and is planning to leave home and settle with her. My parents are devastated. I believe they wish they had been more intrusive. They must also feel torn between a son and a daughter-in-law they love and see as vulnerable. As a very close and loving couple, I suppose they believe my brother should have remained faithful to his wife, although they tell me they understand him on this point.

As for me, I am at a loss what to think. I feel overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. I reckon I have spent hours discussing the issue at home, pondering over it at night and still haven’t come to terms with it.

First Roses, “My Gold”

After endless months of dreary grey weather, it seems spring has finally arrived. Just walking round the garden makes you wonder at the daily renewal of creation and marvel at the miracle that is life.

Shavua tov.

Eggplant Dishes

Eggplant is one of my favourite vegetables. It is versatile, healthy and can be used in summer as well as winter dishes.

Eggplant Salad (serves 4 people)

2 eggplants

400 gr of peeled canned tomatoes

3 crushed cloves garlic

fresh coriander/cilantro

1 tsp ground cumin

olive oil

salt and pepper

Grill or microwave the eggplants. Wait until they have cooled. Cut in half and scoop out the pulp.

Heat the olive oil in a pan and gently fry the garlic, make sure it does not burn. Add the tomatoes and cook uncovered for about 10 minutes.

Add the eggplant pulp, the coriander, salt and pepper. Cook uncovered for approximately 20 minutes, stirring from time to time.

When the dish is cooked, add the ground cumin. Chill at least 3 hours.

Eggplant Quiche (dairy)

Ready-made flaky pastry

1 packet of frozen grilled or fried slices of eggplant

150 gr of soft goat cheese

1 small jar of tapenade

olive oil

a few black pitted olives

Press the pastry into a pie plate. Smear it with the tapenade, not too heavily though. Arrange the slices of eggplants on top. Add the sliced cheese. Sprinkle with herbs and drizzle a little olive oil. Put a few olives in the middle to decorate.

Cook 25 minutes at 450°F.

Yom Ha’atzmaut from France

In recent years the French media haven’t been very fair to Israel, to put it mildly, yet I must say that their treatment of the Jewsih State has been slightly better lately, with unexpected consequences.

Thus in March, Paris hosted its annual Book Fair. Because of its 60th anniversary, Israel was the guest country. Predictably enough, some people encouraged other countries to boycott the Fair. Fortunately not many countries did and quite a few authors and journalists remarked how stupid this would be; the Fair was about literature not politics. Surprisingly enough, a handful of Arab writers even voiced their opinions against the boycott in the traditional media as well as on line.

Numerous Israeli books were translated in French, a lot of magazines and newspapers wrote about Israeli literature and many bookshps devoted whole tables to Istraeli works. As a result a record number of Israeli novels were sold then.

At the time Shimon Peres came to France for a three day visit and went to the Fair. We were in Paris with our students and the Swedish exchange when this happened, hence the photo on the left. It was quite moving to see the Israeli flags on the Champs Elysées.

Because of the anniversary, a lot of tv and radio programs deal with Israel at the moment. Libération, a left-wing paper, devoted a whole edition to Israel with all sorts of articles about its history, inhabitants, culture, etc. I found it to be ecclectic but not too biased. Let’s hope this continues.

Obviously numerous synagogues and Jewish groups commemorate the event. One of my favoutite shuls hosted an evening on Israeli films, there are lectures online on Jewish sites and the Jewish scouts also celebrate this anniversary.

Yom HaZikaron

Today we remember those who believed in the State of Israel, fought and died for it in 1948 as well as Israeli fallen soldiers and victims of terrorism since.

The Silver Platter, by Natan Alterman

The earth grows still.

The lurid sky slowly pales over smoking borders.

Heartsick but still living, a people stand by

To great the uniqueness

Of the miracle. Readied, they wait beneath the moon,

Wrapped in awesome joy before the light. - - Then soon,

A girl and boy step forward,

And slowly walk before the waiting nation;

In work clothes and heavy-shod

They climb

In stillness.

Wearing still the dress of battle, the grime

Of aching day and fired night

Unwashed, weary until death, not knowing rest,

But wearing youth like dewdrops in their hair.

- - Silently the two approach

And stand.

Are they of the quick or of the dead?

Through wondering tears, the people stare.

“Who are you, the silent two?”

And they reply: “We are the silver platter

Upon which the Jewish State was served to you.”

And speaking, fall in shadow at the nation’s feet.

Let the rest in Israel’s chronicles be told.