Cottage Cheese

בס׳ד

Cottage Cheese?

That’s right, cottage cheese.

A news item caught my eye the other day, and it left me incredulous.

There is an organization of Israelis encouraging other Israelis to move to Berlin, of all places.  Why?  Because of the high cost of cottage cheese in Israel!  

The issue of cottage cheese was brought up in Israel about 2 or 3 years back.  It resulted in something of a popular rebellion over the cost of living.  But it started with cottage cheese.

As a new oleh (for just over a year) I can think of several things that might make a person reconsider living here.  Cottage cheese is NOT one of them.

And, in the spirit of absurdity, I must admit that I have come to the conclusion that on paper there is no logical reason why someone would give up the “good” life in America (or Berlin for that matter) to live in Israel.

Nevertheless, for my money, happiness is living in Israel.

I have never been happier in my life, and I truly feel that the Nefesh B’Nefesh slogan fits me - Live the Dream.

Having said that, here is my litany of complaints about life in the Holy Land:

The taxes are high - I have to pay real estate taxes on my RENTED apartment.  

The drivers are crazy, and the gas is expensive (about $100 a fill up). Driving the roads is an experience.  Rules of the road are only meant for people taking their licensing exam.  Many Israelis drive “aggressively”.  And, from my experience, the craziest drivers are the ones with the green and white license plates.  (For those not in the know, the PA issues license plates of that color).

The government is divided into fiefdoms with no agreed upon ideology, and the bureaucracy is a crawling octopus.  

I can’t figure out what the Police are for.  

Each bank branch appears to be a separate franchise - don’t try to get any banking done at a branch other than your own - and you are charged for everything including DEPOSITS.

Keeping kosher is a minefield.  There are dozens (at least) of different certification agencies - many of which consider all the others completely unacceptable.  And to add to the complexity, this year is a shmitta year - the last year of the seven year cycle - in which the rules for growing, purchasing, and eating produce become more complicated than usual.

Although I live in Gush Etzion - over the “green line” - I have yet to experience any problems from our Arab cousins.  In fact, my town of Efrat has good relations with the nearby Arab towns of Wadi Nis and Abdullah Ibrahim.  Nevertheless, every six weeks or so on average, Efrat’s security apparatus detects and foils attempted incursions - primarily for theft.

And that’s only some of the easy stuff.

We’ve had some heavy artillery fired our way during the last year.  A fatal kidnapping, and missiles from Gaza.

And it hurts my feelings that most of the world seems to think of us as one-eyed monsters.  

So then, why am I here?

There is a miracle going on.  After 2000 years, the Jewish people is being reestablished in its homeland.  How can I miss out on that?  And I want to emphasize the phrase “being reestablished”.  Israel is a developing country.  We’re still trying to figure out who we are, still trying to decide how to proceed.  The War of Independence is not over.  We still have a FRONTIER.  Our astounding successes cloud the fact that there is still lots of work to be done.  My wife and I have the opportunity to actually make a difference by being here, on both an historic and a cosmic level.

We are fortunate to have found a town that fits us - Efrat.  My wife - to whom I will refer, with her permission, as Eternal Patience - actually made the choice of Efrat.  Our deal was that if we move to Israel, we’d live where she wanted.

There are people we know who refer to us as the perfect olim. 

It’s an accident.  Well, to be more accurate, the Master of the Universe picked us up in His hand and placed us precisely where we should be.  I couldn’t be more grateful.

There are several things that make Efrat perfect for us.  

The weather is perfect three seasons out of the year.  Winter is chilly and wet, but doable.  We just finished Sukkot.  I was able to sleep out in the Sukkah every night, in perfect temperature, with no rain.

In my neighborhood, Gefen (Grape Vine), the people are amazing.  The people here are the ones I would have wanted to meet 30 years ago when I originally wanted to make aliyah.  I walked into shul on my first day here, and had a chevra in 5 minutes.  

A mixture of Anglos and IFBs (Israelis From Birth), they come

from every walk of life - including educators, Rabbis, doctors, lawyers, policemen, techies, plumbers and electricians - they are also very down-to-earth.  They are Ashkenazim, Sefardim, 

and Moroccans - Mitnagdim and Chasidim.  They like to learn Torah, laugh, talk, get together, and have a few l’chaims.  Very intelligent, and unpretentious - idealistic and, above all, still actively growing and becoming, just like the land they live in.

We live in a small apartment conveniently located so that we can walk to everything - shuls, grocery, hardware store, post office, library, medical center, etc.  There’s even a Yeshiva on the hill where I have been learning most days for a few hours.  And the view is spectacular.

Our adjustment to living in a new country with different ways of getting things done has been, for the most part, untroubled.  We came in with the desire to adjust, which is critical.

There aren’t many practical reasons for living here.  There is simply some intangible element that makes this my home.  I think it may have to do in part with with an inherent connection to the people around me, even strangers.  Somehow we speak the same internal language, even if my Hebrew is rotten.

I am fortunate to have children who, with Gd’s help, are smarter than I am, and have better characters than I do. (Isn’t that every parent’s goal?  If not, it should be!).  I sometimes try to convince my older son (The Rabbi!) that he should at least give living in Israel a try. 

He told me that he gives it a lot of thought from time to time.  The last time, a few months back, he was pondering why it might be that some people successfully make aliyah, and some don’t, and some don’t even try.  And I think there is wisdom in his words.  He said that the more “lishma” (for its own sake) one’s reasons are for coming to live in Israel, the less likely it is that the effort will succeed.

For instance, if my primary reason for coming is because it is a mitzvah to live in Israel, and my wife comes primarily because she wants to be a good wife, the chances of staying are reduced.  Alternatively, if one makes aliyah because he loves the land, feels more alive here, his learning is elevated here, and/or he feels a “resonance” with the land and the people, then success is in the air.

I mentioned “resonance”.  I have something to say about that.  I remember, in junior high school science class, an experiment in which we took two tuning forks having the same pitch, separated them, got one to vibrate, and then slowly brought them closer together.  As they were brought

closer, the vibrations from the active tuning fork started to cause the other tuning fork to vibrate as well.  This is what I am referring to as “resonance”.  The key is that the tuning forks have to have the same pitch.

I hear my son the Rabbi, and I agree with him.  For me, in coming to Eretz Yisrael, my world changed from black & white to living color.  Like in the Wizard of Oz.  When Dorothy is in Kansas, the film is in black & white, but when she lands over the rainbow, it’s all in living color.  I resonate.  We are pitched the same.

In theory, all Jews should feel the same resonance.  According to Yehuda HaLevi, in his sefer Kuzari, just as a plant will grow best in it’s native soil, so a Jew thrives best in his native soil, Eretz Yisrael.  Why this does not appear to be the case with many of us, I can not explain.  However, it’s not a new problem.  Why didn’t all of us return from Babylonia?  Tone deaf?

As for me, here I am, 62 years old, and feeling like I have my whole life ahead of me.  I could be back in Baltimore, just hanging on (as my mechutan says) until the ambulance shows up.  I try to resist becoming a shill for aliyah, because each person’s life is so different. But the happier I become, the harder it is for me to be objective.  So I sing the song that vibrates up from the ground beneath my feet.  Good Vibrations!

So my advice to my son, and to you, is not to focus on the cottage cheese.  Dance to the music!

Cottage cheese is such a small price to pay.

Or is it just me?