I happened to be humming the Yiddish song that begins, “Where shall I go? – Vee ahin zol Ich gain?” The lyrics lament our historical tsoress, fleeing from one country to another because of our religion. The solution to the question is presented at the conclusion of the tune: “Not to New York, not to Florida – but to Eretz Yisrael!” A nearby listener commented, “Yitzchak, you haven’t been in Israel for several years. Voss fahr ah Yid bist do – what kind of Jew are you? Are you planning to take a trip to Aretz?”
I shrugged my shoulders, so he continued haken mihr ihn kopp (multiple repetitions): “After 120 years, if you roll towards Eretz Yisrael when Mashiach arrives (upon techias hamaysim, the revival of the dead), it will be a bumpy ride!”
“You are right!” I responded. “Im lo achshav aimasai – If not now, when? Perhaps the Boss will give me a few points for at least visiting!”
The next day, as if by Providence, we received an invitation to attend the bar mitzva of my Israeli grandnephew, Nitai. Coincidence? I took it as a sure sign to go on the trip.
The holiday of Pesach was approaching, so at first we considered “passing over” the invitation. On the other hand, why refuse such an opportunity? Too shvehr (difficult)! answered one yetzer (conscience). Nu, izz voss (so what)? answered the other yetzer. Why miss such an opportunity? The yetzer “battle” finally ended with the winning option, taking the trip.
I searched for a good travel agent and was given the name of a New York-based agency. Initially, the travel agent was very helpful. She reviewed various options and patiently explained the travel itinerary. After putting the tachlis oifen tish (paying), however, “vayakam travel agent chadasha” – we could not reach her!
The days flew, and before you could sing “Hatikvah,” it was time to prepare for the trip. We attempted to minimize luggage – not an easy task for Shirley, because as the world knows, vibelach (wives) require a variety of clothes. Right? Nu, now I’m in trouble….
We traveled to New York on a mini-plane, which was a bit bumpy, so to speak, but it was not a lengthy voyage. Life was relatively calm until we reached New York. Voss fahr (what kind) of excitement in New York? Vahrt, vahrt (wait), and you’ll hear the rest of the story!
Kennedy Airport is like a small city. We were scheduled to fly with Delta Airlines, and finding their counter in the huge airport was our first “challenge.” The luggage I was shlepping appeared to gain weight, so to divert an upcoming krechts (sigh), I began humming a Yiddish tune. A porter, (a Yiddle, no doubt) heard the tune and offered to assist with shlepping the luggage, but first we faced another challenge – going through security!
The security officer welcomed us with the geshrey (yell), “Take off your shoes and put them in the basket!” Nu, I thought, he may believe that I’m a kohen (priest), and voss gayt awn (what’s going on)? Next he gave a yell, “Empty your pockets!” Only a gahnev (thief) would ask you to do such a thing, so I concluded, enough of this nahrishkite (silliness); they can keep the shoes and, for that matter, they can keep the coins and our house keys! What a system! Ah broch tsue Columbus (woe to Columbus)!
If that weren’t enough kopp drayenish (confusion), there was a type of doorway – not an ordinary doorway, you understand, but one that buzzes when metal is detected. I was ordered to stand under the doorway, and suddenly an alarm began buzzing – not a minor buzz, you understand, but the shrill sound indicating a major catastrophe!
The officer iz meshigeh gehvorehn (went wild) as he pointed to a corner of the room and gave a geshrey (yell): “Stand over there!” Nu , I thought, he sounds like a fahrbrenteh (full-fledged) anti-Semite. Who else yells like that? He then moved a metal detector across my torso – you should pardon the word. When the detector passed over the buckle of my shelkess (suspenders), the detector went double bananas!
The inspector’s face turned beet red and he gave another yell: “Take off the suspenders!” Nu, what I can I tell you? I feared that my trousers would take a nosedive right there in the middle of the airport! However, an order from a person of such authority is feared, so I removed the shelkess and held on to my trousers for dear life, so to speak. Finally, the grueling session ended, and “All’s well that ends well,” right? My possessions were returned, and another airport victim stepped up to the plate.
Meanwhile, my vibel Shirley had her own airport adventure, which included shoe removal and torso inspection. She does not exactly profile of a terrorist, but her heftylooking inspector rechecked her a few times just to make sure that she was not a member of the Moslem sisterhood.
Finally, we were released from the security area. We were oys gehmatert (exhausted) and ready to call the whole thing off! Doss hayst (that means) in drerd (forget) with the inspectors, the airport, and the whole trip! However, we were too fahrteeft (deep) into this adventure, and at this point there was no turning back. We continued with our challenge, locating Delta Airlines.
After taking a hearty hike in the airport terminal, we arrived at the Delta Airlines station and registered to receive our boarding passes. It was a huge aircraft, and we shlepped up the steep steps. The Delta stewardess directed us towards our seats, and we placed our luggage in the upper compartment and relaxed for a few minutes by reading magazines and newspapers providing statistics on such things as stocks and the latest crimes committed in New York!
To further enhance our relaxation, a stewardess stood in front of the seats and began announcing emergency procedures in the event that the plane had tsoress (trouble), such as engine failure or vehr vais voss (who knows what). The stewardess wore a fabricated smile while demonstrating how to wear a small life jacket and a flimsy mask which appeared to be as useless as swimming against choppy waves in the ocean. During the presentation, most passengers read, chapped a dremmel (snoozed), or recited tehilim (psalms).
We were grounded for almost an hour, but finally the great take-off moment arrived. The plane began moving slowly from one part of the airfield to another, and that too shlepped (dragged on) for a long time. Suddenly, there was a brief lull, followed by a sudden, ear shattering sound from the engine. If the plane could speak it would have commented: “You think that I’m a shlepper? Watch! It then let out a loud roaring sound and moved “faster than a flying bullet.” So what comes to mind as the plane moves at such an astonishing speed? To recite the Shema and tehilim – what else!?
As the plane departed from the ground, the passengers applauded. Fahrvos (why)? The most critical time is take off and landing, I was told, so applauding was a type of thanks for surviving! The jumbo jet kept climbing at tremendous speed, and our ears began reacting to the change in air pressure. They actually felt as if they were going to plotz (burst), and chewing gum helped ah bissel (a little bit).
I stared out of the small window next to my seat. The scenery included tiny houses, trees, parks, and cars – a fabulous real-life work of art! Soon the plane flew over the clouds, and the scenery was no longer visible, so I turned on the mini-screen that was attached to the seat ahead of me. The choice was to watch fahrzetsteh (uninteresting) movies or a games channel. There also was a map channel that showed the location of the plane.
Suddenly the stewardess began distributing dinner platters. Dinner in the middle of the night was not exactly appetizing, but we were now in a different world, so to speak. After receiving our kosher meals, we needed a tool to remove the heavy aluminum wrapping! The meal wasn’t great, and some would describe it as having the tahm (taste) of the bubbeh’s cholent on Sunday, but who can waste food at such a price!? After dinner, the lights were dimmed, and we joined the crowd in the evening activity: dremmling (sleeping). We covered ourselves with the large blankets provided and dreamt with our eyes half open, because vehr kehn shloffen (who can sleep) in a position where your body resembles a corkscrew? The night crept by, and finally the sun’s early morning rays penetrated the shuttered windows. Suddenly there was a rustle in the aisle as the vahtiken followers (meaning early, not the Vatican!) rushed to begin morning prayers.
After the davening (prayers), it again was time to fress. Breakfast was served; we had no appetite but somehow had some breakfast.
More time elapsed, and as the plane changed altitude you could trace some outstanding areas of the world, such as the Alps, Greece, and Italy. If you turned on the map channel, you could locate the exact flight position. You could, for example, look out the window at the Alps and see the exact location on the screen – a fabulous technological innovation! It is fascinating to observe various sections of the world, and one wonders how some passengers could remain glued to TV shows while all of this was going on.
The plane finally reached the shores of Eretz Yisrael, which brings “goose bumps” to us “soul Jews.” There is a fascination and great joy observing Israel from the sky. The plane landed safely, and the passengers applauded as the wheels touched the ground. Many scrambled for their pecklech (luggage) and rushed to get in the aisles, but we preferred taking our time.
When the aisle was clear, we headed for the exit and descended down the stairs. Once in the lobby of the airport, we waited to retrieve our luggage. There was a circular conveyer belt holding luggage, and passengers picked their suitcases as they appeared. Nu, we waited and waited, vehaluggage aynaw (did not appear). Panic set in, and I was told to report to the lost and found office. However like an ahkshen (stubborn) person, I would not leave the area. For once, ahkshoness (stubbornness) paid off, as our luggage suddenly appeared on the conveyor belt! Upon retrieving our pecklach (luggage) we moved towards the airport exit and were delighted to see my nephew Moshe, who had been waiting to greet us. He reminded me of my brother David, a”h, who always greeted visitors at the airport. We walked and talked and soon were on the way to Bnai Brak.
I had visited Bnai Brak several times, and seeing the dwellings, the streets, and the lifestyle brought back happy and sad memories. We reached our destination and were welcomed by my sister-in-law Pnina, who was as hospitable as always.
After a brief rest, I proceeded to enjoy my favorite activity in Eretz Yisrael: taking a long walk in the neighborhood. You may wonder what kind of joy is there in taking a walk in Eretz Yisrael, so let me explain.
This morning I took a walk in our Baltimore neighborhood and observed the following: two zekainim (oldees) shuffling down the street; the newspaper carrier tossing papers from his car; two squirrels chasing each other around a tree; and a neighborhood hoont (dog) named Sam. (He used to bark when you passed his residence but is currently not seen; he either flew the coop, so to speak, or paygered (died).
In Bnai Brak, while taking a walk, I observed: children rushing to school and chattering in Ivrit; groups of yeshiva students arguing a point (discussing Talmud, perhaps?); chasidim dressed in black and wearing shtriemlech (fur caps); and various types of Yidden going to work, some with serious expressions, others with smiles. All holy people, living in Eretz Yisrael!
There is a special holy ruach (spirit) that hovers in Eretz Yisrael which does not exist in galus – not in Cheswolde, not in Monsey, and not even in Williamsburg! If you have been in Israel, you surely fahrshtay (understand). Right? If not, it’s time to take a trip! Ihm lo achshav....
Nu, you may say, stop praydiken (preaching) and continue the story. As always, you are 100 percent right!
The next day, we took a trip to Yerushalayim, and our plan was to first visit the Kotel, (Western Wall) also referred to as the “Wailing Wall” by those who want us to wail. Shirley and my granddaughter Rochel Devorah (alias R.D) began walking toward the Kotel. The scenery was fantastic, and soon we approached a group of Lubavitcher chasidim dancing in a circle with several Torahs. In keeping with Lubavitch kiruv philosophy, they handed me a Torah as they praised the Torah (and the Rebbeh). So we danced together. There was a great feeling of achdut (unity). As for praising the Rebbeh, why not? As they say in Brooklyn, “It can’t hoyt.” (Regarding the Mashiach question, let others worry about it….)
After a few minutes of dancing, I was oysgemahtert (bushed), so I passed the Torah to another onlooker and we resumed our journey towards the Kotel. Suddenly we approached tourists from Nigeria wearing what appeared to be sheets wrapped around their torsos. They were schmoozing in what sounded like French. Nu, I thought, bechol hakavod (with all respect), let them keep helping the Israel economy! We also heard Russian, Italian, and Spanish being spoken by groups heading towards the Wall.
The hike began taking its toll on my feet, which were kvetching and demanding a rest. We then noticed a restaurant and got into the long line of people waiting to enter. Finally, we gained entrance and we were seated at a table in the center of the place. You could hear several languages being spoken, a miniature UN! As for what we ordered, vehr gedenkt (who remembers)?
After the meal, we resumed our voyage and finally arrived at the Kotel Maaravi. This wasn’t our first visit, but the thrill of being at the place where many generations of our people prayed was mind-boggling!
Upon reaching the plaza in front of the Kotel, we were surprised to see – not a group of chasidim, misnagdim, or settlers – but five priests of the goyish persuasion, wearing long brown robes, sandals, and yarmulkes (skull caps) and engaged in kissing the stones of the Kotel. Nearby, some Lubavitcher chasidim were at a stand, doing their usual thing: asking men to put on tefilin. After their prayers, one of the priests approached the Lubavitchers and began shmoozing (conversing) with him. It appeared to be an amiable conversation, because both were talking, gesturing, and smiling. The priest finally left, and out of curiosity, I inquired of the Lubavitcher whether he had asked the priest to put on tefilin. His reply was, “Ahzoy vyt (that far) we don’t go.” He then asked whether I was Jewish and whether I put on tefilin. After telling him that I donned tefilin prior to his birth, his response was “Yes, but did you put them on this morning?!”
We toured other areas in Israel with a taxi service. The driver was good, but my granddaughter knew some of the places better than he did with his GPS!
The highlight of our visit to Israel was attending the bar mitzva of Nitai, the son of my nephew Moshe. His bar mitzva took place in the shul of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, located on the fantastic Har Hatsofim, also known as Mt. Scopus. Did you ever hear the tune, “Mei’al Pisgaht Har Hatzofim”? As we looked at the wonderful scene of Yerushalayim, the words of the melody came to mind:
Above the Peak of Mt. Scopus,
I will bow down to you Jerusalem.
Above the peak of Mt. Scopus,
Peace to you, Jerusalem
For a hundred generations, I dreamt of you,
To cry, to see the light of your face.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
Light up your face to your son,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
From your ruins I will build you.
Above the peak of Mt. Scopus,
Peace to you Jerusalem.
Thousands of exiles from all parts of the world
lift their eyes to you.
Thousands of blessings, be blessed,
As a king sanctifies a royal city.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
I won’t move from here,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
The Messiah will come, will come!
The front of the shul has a huge panoramic window, from which you can view the Kotel and the entire area. It is an awesome sight, so when you go to Eretz Yisrael, remember to visit the shul for a sight that is unparallel.
Nitai is a great kid, and he read the Torah and the Haftorah skillfully. Later he gave an interesting speech. The day passed, and after having a delicious lunch we rested and waited for other programs that were presented. It was a fabulous experience.
Yom Hazikaron
We were invited to attend the Yom Hazikaron ceremony held in the military cemetery of Nahariya. My nephew Moshe was stationed in Lebanon years ago, and, unfortunately, a soldier standing next to him, was killed. Many Yidden in galut do not realize the sacrifices made by the soldiers of Israel for klal Yisrael, for the Jewish people. This was one of many ceremonies held around the country, and there were hundreds of people in attendance. As people entered the cemetery, they were given flowers to put on the graves of the fallen soldiers and a bottle of water to stay cool in the hot sun.
The ceremony included speeches, military personnel firing shots in the air, and the Kel Malei memorial prayer sung by a military cantor. The most heartrending scene that we observed was that of an elderly person sitting in a wheelchair across from us. He was nebech missing a leg. As the ceremony proceeded, streams of tears covered his cheeks, which projected the agony of this day remembering the holy souls who gave their lives for the Jewish people. How sorely they are missed!
We visited other interesting places in Israel, and the time seemed to fly by. One day, we examined our plane tickets and guess what? It was time to return to the States! The return trip was relatively smooth. However, we now were informed that we would have to spend the day in the New York airport waiting for a plane to Baltimore! So voss zoll mehn tawn (what to do)? It was time for Shacharis (morning prayers), so I found a corner to daven (pray), and after I put on the tefilin, the passengers in the area left.
We spent the rest of the day reading, walking, and chapping a dremmel (taking a nap). Finally, it was time to board the plane, and the flight back to Baltimore was relatively smooth. Miht mazel (with luck) we arrived in the Baltimore- Washington airport. My son-in-law Shlomo, zol air zine gezund (may he be well) drove us to our house.
As we approached our house, a thought kept replaying itself: Yitzchak what are you doing here? Glad to see the house, but our home is in Eretz Yisrael!
Leshana haba beiYerushalaim!â—†
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