I read stories about him previously, but this guy takes the cake. Benny and I used to fatasize about what we would ever do if we played hockey pofessionally. Well this guy did what we imagined!
Read this:
http://www.habseyesontheprize.com/2009/7/29/967218/we-want-pusie-the-tale-of-an
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Final trip to Stavropol in Photos
Women from the community came to help pack.
Kostya Solomonov helping to pack. He signed a document making him responsible for the Torah.
At the Kremlin on the way home.
I know. I know. Not many photos, but that's all that was taken.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Eyes wide in Montreal
As I wrote a couple of days ago, Irina Faivushkin came to Montreal, and it was the first time she had been in America in her life. She is not a wealthy woman, and it was an eye opening experience for her.
"Just like the movies!" She squealed over the phone.
We met on Thursday. Chayale, the kids and all. We were at my parents house and had to rush home where she was already waiting for us at 3:00. She oohed and aahed over the kids, and then we found out that she couldn't afford a taxi or anything and had walked over (a 45 minute walk in the heat).
She gave us a gift that she had knitted. It's a frilly flowery thing we use to put under a plant Miriam made in school. It's very colorful and nice.
We had no car, so after chatting a bit we decided to take her out for a walk to Pizza Pita.
Her daughter had taken her to the tourist areas of Montreal, but she wanted to see the Jewish one, and as we passed 'landmarks' we pointed them out.
"That's Beis Rivkah. An all girls Jewish school with 500 students."
Shw was quite wowed.
Finally we got to Pizza Pita and she admitted that it was her first time in a 'real' restaurant. We ordered tons of food, and more for her to take home. She loved it, and was fascinated by some of the ittle things we take for granted, like the guy who makes salad on the spot for you with whatever you want in it.
"And it's all kosher?"
"Yup."
After we ate we went to the park where the kids played, and then I got my sisters car and drove her home. It was a sad parting, and she said that everyone she knows hopes we return. She believes that in 5 years things will change and we will be able to return.
"Please return." She asked. "the years will go by so quickly."
I doubt it.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Chayale's report
My trip back to Stavropol
My darling husband has nudged and nudged for a first person report of my return to Stavropol to collect our goods and so with all the love in my heart (and the fact that he is cleaning the entire house in exchange) I shall indulge him. And all of you people interested in our lives.
My mother, G-d bless her, agreed to accompany me. It turns out that chances are if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have returned alive or I would’ve returned with a very unproductive report. She was the absolute perfect person to come along. She was fun, positive, focused and of course took good care of me and more importantly worked her rumpus off.
Ok from the beginning. I flew to JFK early Tuesday morning and spent the day at the Ohel where I got online and used the payphone as my personal line, including a phone call to my landlord in Stavropol in the hopes of getting the key to my apt. Then when my computer died, I returned to JFK and met my mother and father. MY father left me with the extremely wise advice which was to visit Yefim and give him a piece of my mind and also how to scam my landlord. Then my mother and I started our very long trip. We flew to Moscow quite uneventfully and unmoviefully (it was broken….) except for the disaster of leaving my mother’s corn cakes and cream cheeses on the plane (She’s still calling lost and found…).
In Moscow we paid a lot of money to go to the red square where the Taxi waited for us while we walked around. My mother would’ve loved to visit the state museum but slava b-gu for me, there wasn’t enough time. We went back to our cab driver who miraculously did not steal our stuff and went to a different airport for our flight to Stavropol. On the way there was an explosion right next to us that sounded like a gunshot. There was blood and pink mist and everything went dark. Ok we got a bit carried away but we didn’t hear normally for three days.
Thus began our Russian experience. Though it was 90 degrees out, there was no air conditioning in the airport and no air whatsoever on the plane. We were literally gasping for air. As we wiped our faces and fanned ourself with the safety card my mother first asked what would become the trip slogan: “Tell me again, Why did I agree to come?”
We arrived in Stavropol, alive but in very bad shape. We were greeted unexpectedly by Kostya, (who is the new president of the 'new' community) his wife Luda, his new executive secretary, and Alec. I couldn’t believe it for a number of reasons, the main one, embarrassingly enough, being that I could not socialize after what I just been through. We chatted and we went back to my apt with Alec who casually told us that 5 years would Scora be up and we’d be right back! Huh?! But I was too tired to deal…
We arrived home to my apt and were greeted by the best surprise yet. The various visitors to our apt decided that all food was communal property and thus left nothing save for a couple of baking ingredients and spices. There was no water, nothing. We were quite disappointed as we brought nothing with us. I was all emotional about being back without my family and got all teary eyed that I had no way of emailing or calling Zvi. It was so weird to be there without them. Anyway, we were too tired and fell into bed.
Thursday started early with Victoria’s visit. It was so nice to see her, she is such an angel. My former cleaning lady came too to say hi and claim her gifts. At around 2, Kostya showed with his crew plus his daughter Ola and Natasha and Yula from the Sachnut. I got the impression Natasha and Yula came seriously to see what they could get. It was a not a warm and cushy feeling that remained with me when they left. Kostya was very helpful and truly cared. He made a list of everything we needed for packing and went out with Victoria to buy it all.
While he was out buying it all, my mother and I went to Metro. There we found out that our cards had been stopped but they let us shop there one more time. We bought all kinds of stuff to eat and drink and the manager came over to us and in broken English told us that if we needed anything…
When we got home, Kostya came back and managed the team (his wife, daughter and secretary) who kindly packed all of the books. . They were awesomely helpful. My mother worked too and I walked around in a daze trying to look busy.
Friday. Victoria came early again, anxious to order the container by twelve noon. When she called them, the new lady gave us completely new information which is that customs must be cleared in Stavropol not through the shipping company. So we paid a visit to customs. We had to wait in a dingy, creepy building that was falling apart and where, when I asked where the toilet was, they replied “on the street!” After lunch break, we met the customs dude, who I sucked up to by complimenting his English and ended up being very helpful and nice.
We called the shipping company back who needed a lot of stuff which we would not be able to acquire before Friday afternoon so we just left it for Monday morning.
Mid-afternoon, with no prior warning, Kostya and Natasha arrived with a truck to take everything away. They were like hawks coming for their prey and Natasha especially didn’t even look at me, she’s just focused on the stuff. They were in such a rush and just wrapped up the Aron Kodesh with the Torah still inside and started to take it away. I started crying away and told them off about how it’s not the right way to treat the Torah. It was very hard to give over custody of our Torah that we brought to this city.
My mother and I prepared some Shabbos gourmet dishes such as oil dripping fried gefilte fish (no paper towel), potato salad, chicken and potatoes. We had a nice meal together before retiring for the night. It must be said that each night I was accumulating many mosquito bites and so in addition to the 95 degrees was also scratching from morning to night.
Shabbos was the hottest day ever. I wanted to invite ppl over but Netasha said I could not because they all gather in the Sachnut. I wasn’t really in the mood anyway so I just listened to her. Anyway, we just sat on the couch the entire day and read and ate a little. My mother invented this dip made of mayonnaise, tomato paste, mustard and red wine vinegar with salt and pepper. Boy were we desperate!
After Shabbos, we had some down time and then decided to go to sleep. Not a very productive day Shabbos.
Sunday, we worked out butts off packing and at the end decided to go to the mall to hang out. There was only air conditioning on the bottom floor so we bought sodas and played air hockey- my mother won- and chatted, enjoying the break. Then we went shopping for some groceries and came home.
Monday was a very busy day. Victoria came quite early and we set about trying to make our container happen. The people in Rostov or Novo Rossick or whatever wanted all kinds of stuff such as signed contracts, scanned registrations and passports and most importantly of all, Mula. Money ended up being the most difficult part because I don’t have a Russian bank account and they wanted a money transfer. Also, Western Union does not do transfers between people and companies so we were stuck. Finally I got on the phone and asked (begged) the dude to do something to help. He did and we agreed to send money through Western Union to an individual in the company. We had no internet so Victoria and I went off to the internet café to print some of the contracts and instructions for the Western Union transfer. We then went to the bank to take out money which is where things got more complicated. My mother’s bank got very worried about large sums of cash being taken out of the account and proceeded to freeze the account.
Meanwhile, I had told various friends Sunday night to visit any time on Monday because “I would be home all day.” As I’m with Victoria waiting for my mother to call the bank, people start arriving to visit me. My mother speaks not a word of Russian and so hands the phone to one lady Anya Filatova who I told where I was and she came and joined Victoria and I. Then my mother calls my father who calls the bank and they’re all on a conference call when Lena Vanskova shows up. Lena called me to find out where I was and when my mother saw that she was talking to me, she grabbed the phone out of Lena’s hand and start telling me what was happening with the bank situation. Then I told Lena to come back later. Igor Lerner also showed at home for a planned meeting and he too said he’d come back.
So Victoria, Anya, her daughter Masha and I were waiting at the bank for ages. Anya is a total crazy lady in a good way and entertained us all as we waited. She is really a soul sister of mine and we laughed so hard.
Finally the money came through. We rushed through Western Union because…. Oh yeah, I totally forgot to say. The smelliest men on the planet came to dismantle our furniture so it would fit in the container and they needed to be paid plus my mother couldn’t breathe so I ran home to pay them.
We finished packing that night as our container made its way from Novorossick to Stavropol.
Early the next morning, Tuesday, the container arrived and at about 9:00 so did four teenage boys to shlep. They worked so slow and took frequent breaks. We were on a deadline because we had to make the customs office and I didn’t know how to get them to work faster. I yelled at them, no response. Finally they told me that “if I give bonus, they do everysing 10 minutes.” I told them that the faster they work the more their bonus. So they started to work. Except that at the end I went down and looked in the container and behold it was a dump!! They just threw everything into the container with no organization whatsoever. One of the boys asked my Mom “Chow old are you?” My mother said “Old enough to be your mother” and they all laughed.
Finally the container was full, the apartment empty and we set about trying to get the truck out of the parking lot full of cars. It was a very Russian truck and unfortunately getting up a hill was a very big challenge for it. The driver decided he must wait for a bunch of specific cars to move in order for him to get out. Victoria and I are freaking out because the customs close in an hour, we’re stopping traffic, getting the police to help. No such luck. For three hours we tried to get that truck out and..nothing. Finally we called the customs agent and told him the situation. He told us to come. We ran but they were closing in twenty minutes, he said we’d never make it. I cried, he yelled at me (“you have a criminal record lady, you didn’t register within 3 days. We have procedure, you must do procedure.”)
Anyway, in the end he told Victoria to make copies of all my documents and that she could do it for me the next day. Needless to say, Victoria was FUMING. She hates the officials there and is terrified of getting involved in stuff and did not want or need the responsibility. But being the angel that she is, she agreed to do it.
As we left to make copies, the truck showed up! We told him to sleep in the parking lot and Victoria would meet him in the morning. I bought some fruit, we made copies and we went home to a yummy dinner of salmon, roast potatoes and salad prepared by my mother.
My mother then went to the mall ALL BY HERSELF. She is very proud if this fact and when she returned, she forgot which apartment was mine to buzz so she screamed up 7 flights of stairs “Chayale, which apartment is yours???” Very comical. When she got home she made sure to get some great shots of people in the windows pishing, in the building across the parking lot.
Victoria went home, we finished cleaning up the apartment, and went to the Intourist for the night (no more beds!). Alec Bogo picked us up in the AM and we started our trek back.
In the Stavropol airport our alarm clock went off inside our suitcase and everyone freaked out. I thought it was because they thought we had a bomb. It turns out no, they knew it was a clock, it was just annoying them. In Moscow, we took a cab to the Shul on Bolshoi Bronnaya and then to the Marina Roscha. We ordered out yummy food and ate it on the way back to the airport. Flight home was uneventful (and unmoviefull again!) except for the fact that my mother and I had one book between the two of us so we kept trying to steal it and then whenever one was reading, the other one didn’t stop talking. So we played boggle and scattegories.
The food was gross and fleishig so we didn’t eat (9 days) and were starving. Mariashi sent food to JFK for me so I got to eat dinner before boarding to Montreal. Came home and went to sleep after not having slept for 26 hours.
What a trip!
My darling husband has nudged and nudged for a first person report of my return to Stavropol to collect our goods and so with all the love in my heart (and the fact that he is cleaning the entire house in exchange) I shall indulge him. And all of you people interested in our lives.
My mother, G-d bless her, agreed to accompany me. It turns out that chances are if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have returned alive or I would’ve returned with a very unproductive report. She was the absolute perfect person to come along. She was fun, positive, focused and of course took good care of me and more importantly worked her rumpus off.
Ok from the beginning. I flew to JFK early Tuesday morning and spent the day at the Ohel where I got online and used the payphone as my personal line, including a phone call to my landlord in Stavropol in the hopes of getting the key to my apt. Then when my computer died, I returned to JFK and met my mother and father. MY father left me with the extremely wise advice which was to visit Yefim and give him a piece of my mind and also how to scam my landlord. Then my mother and I started our very long trip. We flew to Moscow quite uneventfully and unmoviefully (it was broken….) except for the disaster of leaving my mother’s corn cakes and cream cheeses on the plane (She’s still calling lost and found…).
In Moscow we paid a lot of money to go to the red square where the Taxi waited for us while we walked around. My mother would’ve loved to visit the state museum but slava b-gu for me, there wasn’t enough time. We went back to our cab driver who miraculously did not steal our stuff and went to a different airport for our flight to Stavropol. On the way there was an explosion right next to us that sounded like a gunshot. There was blood and pink mist and everything went dark. Ok we got a bit carried away but we didn’t hear normally for three days.
Thus began our Russian experience. Though it was 90 degrees out, there was no air conditioning in the airport and no air whatsoever on the plane. We were literally gasping for air. As we wiped our faces and fanned ourself with the safety card my mother first asked what would become the trip slogan: “Tell me again, Why did I agree to come?”
We arrived in Stavropol, alive but in very bad shape. We were greeted unexpectedly by Kostya, (who is the new president of the 'new' community) his wife Luda, his new executive secretary, and Alec. I couldn’t believe it for a number of reasons, the main one, embarrassingly enough, being that I could not socialize after what I just been through. We chatted and we went back to my apt with Alec who casually told us that 5 years would Scora be up and we’d be right back! Huh?! But I was too tired to deal…
We arrived home to my apt and were greeted by the best surprise yet. The various visitors to our apt decided that all food was communal property and thus left nothing save for a couple of baking ingredients and spices. There was no water, nothing. We were quite disappointed as we brought nothing with us. I was all emotional about being back without my family and got all teary eyed that I had no way of emailing or calling Zvi. It was so weird to be there without them. Anyway, we were too tired and fell into bed.
Thursday started early with Victoria’s visit. It was so nice to see her, she is such an angel. My former cleaning lady came too to say hi and claim her gifts. At around 2, Kostya showed with his crew plus his daughter Ola and Natasha and Yula from the Sachnut. I got the impression Natasha and Yula came seriously to see what they could get. It was a not a warm and cushy feeling that remained with me when they left. Kostya was very helpful and truly cared. He made a list of everything we needed for packing and went out with Victoria to buy it all.
While he was out buying it all, my mother and I went to Metro. There we found out that our cards had been stopped but they let us shop there one more time. We bought all kinds of stuff to eat and drink and the manager came over to us and in broken English told us that if we needed anything…
When we got home, Kostya came back and managed the team (his wife, daughter and secretary) who kindly packed all of the books. . They were awesomely helpful. My mother worked too and I walked around in a daze trying to look busy.
Friday. Victoria came early again, anxious to order the container by twelve noon. When she called them, the new lady gave us completely new information which is that customs must be cleared in Stavropol not through the shipping company. So we paid a visit to customs. We had to wait in a dingy, creepy building that was falling apart and where, when I asked where the toilet was, they replied “on the street!” After lunch break, we met the customs dude, who I sucked up to by complimenting his English and ended up being very helpful and nice.
We called the shipping company back who needed a lot of stuff which we would not be able to acquire before Friday afternoon so we just left it for Monday morning.
Mid-afternoon, with no prior warning, Kostya and Natasha arrived with a truck to take everything away. They were like hawks coming for their prey and Natasha especially didn’t even look at me, she’s just focused on the stuff. They were in such a rush and just wrapped up the Aron Kodesh with the Torah still inside and started to take it away. I started crying away and told them off about how it’s not the right way to treat the Torah. It was very hard to give over custody of our Torah that we brought to this city.
My mother and I prepared some Shabbos gourmet dishes such as oil dripping fried gefilte fish (no paper towel), potato salad, chicken and potatoes. We had a nice meal together before retiring for the night. It must be said that each night I was accumulating many mosquito bites and so in addition to the 95 degrees was also scratching from morning to night.
Shabbos was the hottest day ever. I wanted to invite ppl over but Netasha said I could not because they all gather in the Sachnut. I wasn’t really in the mood anyway so I just listened to her. Anyway, we just sat on the couch the entire day and read and ate a little. My mother invented this dip made of mayonnaise, tomato paste, mustard and red wine vinegar with salt and pepper. Boy were we desperate!
After Shabbos, we had some down time and then decided to go to sleep. Not a very productive day Shabbos.
Sunday, we worked out butts off packing and at the end decided to go to the mall to hang out. There was only air conditioning on the bottom floor so we bought sodas and played air hockey- my mother won- and chatted, enjoying the break. Then we went shopping for some groceries and came home.
Monday was a very busy day. Victoria came quite early and we set about trying to make our container happen. The people in Rostov or Novo Rossick or whatever wanted all kinds of stuff such as signed contracts, scanned registrations and passports and most importantly of all, Mula. Money ended up being the most difficult part because I don’t have a Russian bank account and they wanted a money transfer. Also, Western Union does not do transfers between people and companies so we were stuck. Finally I got on the phone and asked (begged) the dude to do something to help. He did and we agreed to send money through Western Union to an individual in the company. We had no internet so Victoria and I went off to the internet café to print some of the contracts and instructions for the Western Union transfer. We then went to the bank to take out money which is where things got more complicated. My mother’s bank got very worried about large sums of cash being taken out of the account and proceeded to freeze the account.
Meanwhile, I had told various friends Sunday night to visit any time on Monday because “I would be home all day.” As I’m with Victoria waiting for my mother to call the bank, people start arriving to visit me. My mother speaks not a word of Russian and so hands the phone to one lady Anya Filatova who I told where I was and she came and joined Victoria and I. Then my mother calls my father who calls the bank and they’re all on a conference call when Lena Vanskova shows up. Lena called me to find out where I was and when my mother saw that she was talking to me, she grabbed the phone out of Lena’s hand and start telling me what was happening with the bank situation. Then I told Lena to come back later. Igor Lerner also showed at home for a planned meeting and he too said he’d come back.
So Victoria, Anya, her daughter Masha and I were waiting at the bank for ages. Anya is a total crazy lady in a good way and entertained us all as we waited. She is really a soul sister of mine and we laughed so hard.
Finally the money came through. We rushed through Western Union because…. Oh yeah, I totally forgot to say. The smelliest men on the planet came to dismantle our furniture so it would fit in the container and they needed to be paid plus my mother couldn’t breathe so I ran home to pay them.
We finished packing that night as our container made its way from Novorossick to Stavropol.
Early the next morning, Tuesday, the container arrived and at about 9:00 so did four teenage boys to shlep. They worked so slow and took frequent breaks. We were on a deadline because we had to make the customs office and I didn’t know how to get them to work faster. I yelled at them, no response. Finally they told me that “if I give bonus, they do everysing 10 minutes.” I told them that the faster they work the more their bonus. So they started to work. Except that at the end I went down and looked in the container and behold it was a dump!! They just threw everything into the container with no organization whatsoever. One of the boys asked my Mom “Chow old are you?” My mother said “Old enough to be your mother” and they all laughed.
Finally the container was full, the apartment empty and we set about trying to get the truck out of the parking lot full of cars. It was a very Russian truck and unfortunately getting up a hill was a very big challenge for it. The driver decided he must wait for a bunch of specific cars to move in order for him to get out. Victoria and I are freaking out because the customs close in an hour, we’re stopping traffic, getting the police to help. No such luck. For three hours we tried to get that truck out and..nothing. Finally we called the customs agent and told him the situation. He told us to come. We ran but they were closing in twenty minutes, he said we’d never make it. I cried, he yelled at me (“you have a criminal record lady, you didn’t register within 3 days. We have procedure, you must do procedure.”)
Anyway, in the end he told Victoria to make copies of all my documents and that she could do it for me the next day. Needless to say, Victoria was FUMING. She hates the officials there and is terrified of getting involved in stuff and did not want or need the responsibility. But being the angel that she is, she agreed to do it.
As we left to make copies, the truck showed up! We told him to sleep in the parking lot and Victoria would meet him in the morning. I bought some fruit, we made copies and we went home to a yummy dinner of salmon, roast potatoes and salad prepared by my mother.
My mother then went to the mall ALL BY HERSELF. She is very proud if this fact and when she returned, she forgot which apartment was mine to buzz so she screamed up 7 flights of stairs “Chayale, which apartment is yours???” Very comical. When she got home she made sure to get some great shots of people in the windows pishing, in the building across the parking lot.
Victoria went home, we finished cleaning up the apartment, and went to the Intourist for the night (no more beds!). Alec Bogo picked us up in the AM and we started our trek back.
In the Stavropol airport our alarm clock went off inside our suitcase and everyone freaked out. I thought it was because they thought we had a bomb. It turns out no, they knew it was a clock, it was just annoying them. In Moscow, we took a cab to the Shul on Bolshoi Bronnaya and then to the Marina Roscha. We ordered out yummy food and ate it on the way back to the airport. Flight home was uneventful (and unmoviefull again!) except for the fact that my mother and I had one book between the two of us so we kept trying to steal it and then whenever one was reading, the other one didn’t stop talking. So we played boggle and scattegories.
The food was gross and fleishig so we didn’t eat (9 days) and were starving. Mariashi sent food to JFK for me so I got to eat dinner before boarding to Montreal. Came home and went to sleep after not having slept for 26 hours.
What a trip!
Friday, July 24, 2009
A new picture
Good news. Chayale returned with the camera attachment. now we can upload our own photos.
This photo is from Sara Greenberg, Chayale's sister. She came to town to help watch the kids while Chayale was away, and she was great!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Another article in the Stavropol news about us
Chayale is back! Yes!
I'm going to post her experiences here soon. She kept a sort of diary while she was out there. As she was leaving, the Sachnut leaders gave her a CD with some pictures will I will post. The above pictures are from their Friday Night gatherings for Davening and eating which they started after we left (with out minyan). Unfortunately they don't know that taking photos isn't allowed.
So here's the new article which is originally from the newspaper Zdratsvuytse Kavkaz, an internet only newspaper. For some reason they have since taken down the article. Be ready. It's another smear (Yefim's girlfriend works for a newspaper there). Translated version follows:
FOR TWO THOUSAND YEARS THE JEWISH PEOPLE HAVE NOT HAD A STATE
«For two thousand years Jews did not have a state. But the people disseminated around the world have managed to keep their religion, traditions and customs and have managed to remain a single united nation. This was possible thanks to the establishment of the community.
Stavropol Territory was no exception. The Stavropol city Jewish religious organisation "Shalom" is one of the youngest in the North Caucasus.
At the community center there existed a Sunday school, youth and female clubs, a library, a music ensemble and an Ulpan. Children left for summer camp, organized by the community of Sochi. The humanitarian help rendered by the community included distributing Matza before the holiday of Pesach. Members of the community together celebrated all holidays with the Jewish musical ensemble which was an indispensable participant. Competition carrying out on the best preparation of the national dishes took place to which traditional prizes were handed over to the winners.
What is going on presently?
In 2008 we were visited by the Canadian Zvi Hershcovich. From the moment of arrival, Hershkovich used the correct speeches by speaking about the necessity of revival of the community, construction of a dialogue with regional, city power structures and law enforcement bodies. But what have we received?
With appointment of Zvi Hershcovich as the Stavropol rabbi, the community completely lost its financing, i.e. money resources which came from FEOR, but did not reach the addressee since the "religious figure" used it for another application - renting a five-room apartment in the city centre and going on weekly trips with his family to Canada. After such a position of financial affairs, there were questions on the possibility of the existence of a city community like that.
In time, Hershcovich as the rabbi, under the cover of a struggle for the interests of the community, managed to spoil old positive relations with regional administration, migratory and law enforcement bodies, by threatening to carry out mass protests, which would overlap the city roads of Stavropol, considering it as a possibility to draw public attention to problems of the Jewish population of Russia.
Besides, Hershcovich intended to publish articles in local newspapers with opinions about the oppression of ethnic Jews which would inevitably lead to an explosion in Stavropol's multinational edge. Remember, this is a "leader" who would be urging people to protect the community from internal and external threats!
The Stavropol city community was compelled to express to Zvi Hershcovich their dissatisfaction concerning his activities as the rabbi of the community. In his answer he said that he doesn't need a community and that he already has 10 people supporting him.
The partner of this foreigner is from the Stavropol branch of Pyatigorsk representing «the Jewish agency in Russia» Kuligina Natalia Anatolevna. Activity of the specified organisation actually is reduced to organizing the departure of our youth to study in Israel whose purpose is for them to remain abroad for permanent residence.
This is the purpose of «ЕАР» and for this purpose the Israeli government, at least, finances programs of the given organisation. Under Kuliginas sensitive management money resources of the Stavropol branch "ЕАР" allocated for office expenses and the organisation of Sunday school completely disappeared, as the school on papers exists, but only four children visit her ostensibly. And their office location is also not a simple matter.
Since 2005 the office of "ЕАР" was in Stavropol along the street Krasnoflotskaya. From the sum paid for rent of a premise which owner has wished to remain the unknown person, Kuligina N.A. under the preliminary arrangement with it received so-called "recoil". (I'm not sure what this means - Zvi)
The special attention in the work that Kuligina N.A.'s does is to find youth of military age. During interviews with this category of citizens, and also their parents actually consider themselves Russians, and are frequently not of the Jewish nationality, she pushes them to prsue military service in Army of defence of Israel "Tzahal".
These Young men, wishing to avoid military service in the Russian army,knowing they can obtain the Israeli citizenship leave to Israel and live there permanently are compelled to serve in the Israeli army, protecting interests of other state which from the moment of the formation and constantly is at war till now.
For example, Nikulnikov А after finishing high school № 3 of Stavropol arrived in the Stavropol higher military engineering school of communication. After graduating military college he didn't want to continue doing his service in the Russian army. During training he got acquainted with Kuligina N.A. who for monetary compensation offered to help him leave to Israel where as she said serving in the Israeli army would not be necessary. Nikulnikov A.F. agreed to the transaction.
Kuligina N.A. acquainted him with a Jewish girl who together with her parents intended to leave to Israel and receive PERMANENT RESIDENCE. Married by calculation, he took a surname of wife Goldberg. After his 2nd course of study he was considered the near relation of the Jewess and received the status of the repatriate and left to Israel where he soon obtained citizenship of this state. He worked in sphere of services while living in Ashkelon. Despite all Kuligina N.A.'s assurances it was still necessary to join the military of the Army of defence of Israel and according the Israeli laws not to be made answerable for desertion and has been compelled to serve since March, 2004 in "Tzahal".
V. Taitsland was worried about having to do service in the Russian army, so his mother addressed Kuligina N.A. with the request to assist in departure to Israel provided that the son will manage to avoid military service. Kuligina N.A. for monetary compensation helped make the papers granting the right to repatriation.
Taitsland V. then left to Israel, and obtained citizenship. His cousin Taitsland Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich, has gone by same means. Kuligina gave 100 % of a guarantee that it is not necessary to serve in "Tzahal" since he had received a serious head injury during training in technical school.
However in 2001 both cousins were called in the Israeli army. Vasily after a week of service deserted, after which he has been detained and thrown into military prison.
Vyacheslav, despite a trauma, got to the Israeli marines. During his service he repeatedly participated in fighting collisions with Arabs.
When V. Posel finished high school in 1998 he searched for a way to avoid the army. Through an acquaintance he learnt about the existence of ЕАР. He then got acquainted with Kuligina N.A. who promised for material compensation “to find in my blood the Jewish roots” that will help to acquire the right for his departure to Israel.
At the end of 1998 Nitsana appeared on the campus. After a while he obtained citizenship. In 2000 he was compelled to go to serve in "Tzahal", and was assigned to the frontier troops where he served on border together with the Palestinian autonomy.
In 2001 he was traumatised in his foot, however he wasn't demobilised due to his health, and was transferred to other armies where he served till the end of 2002.
So is it possible for Kuligina and Hershcovich to unite?
«The Jewish agency in Russia» made the decision on the termination of financing of the Stavropol branch, due to an absence of any positive results of activity by Kuligina Н in communication, who together with Z Hershcovich made the decision to "master" the money resources which FEOR allocated for the needs of the Stavropol Jewish community.
Numerous letters concerning Zvi Hershcovich to FEOR and Berl Lazar the chief Rabbi of Russia remain without attention. There is a question if the opinions of the community does not interest Kuligina Natalia, Hershcovich Zvi, the or «Federation of the Jewish communities of Russia», then what people do they represent?
Written by Andrei Andronov.
More of the same, but this time he cuts into Natasha. I'm assuming that much like what was written about me, most of it are lies, and everyone in the community knows that. It's a shame that this is the only stuff being posted in the newspapers. Maybe we should send this guy back on his heels and start sharing the information we have which document his thievery and lies. Something I think of doing when I get angry. But I don't think I'll ever actually do that. It's not the job of a Rabbi to put down another Jew...
I find it interesting that in the entire time I tried working with Yefim, he always had some beef with everyone. Any name I brought up, he had a full dossier he was eager to share about the guys wrongdoings. Though I've never actually seen anything, I am sure that he actually has a file somewhere on every person in the community.
There's one thing Chayale didn't do while she was in Stavropol, and that is to take back the chairs which are still in his center.
Eli Ginsberg donated almost 100 chairs back when we were in his center trying to work with him. We brought them in, and Yefim refused to help us and initially told us to store them somewhere else.
We unpacked them all and removed their packaging by ourselves for several hours, after which we used them. When we left and he refused to let us take the Aron Kodesh with us (after which he gave in), he never let anyone in again to remove the chairs.
What a Schmuck.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The tale of Sir Cardigan
(Random thought of the day: Carlton Avenue in montreal should get one of those signs that say 'neighbors are watching')
Yesterday morning my cell phone rang at 5:30 AM, which was about 4 hours after I had drifted off while reading a book.
The call was from the shipping company in Stavropol, and they wanted me to give them some information immediately. Luckily I had been forewarned, and made some calls, so I knew what to tell them.
But the guy wanted it all emailed to him, so I had to get up and go out on the porch and wait for his email. Problem was, he mispelled the 'yahoo' part, so I called Chayale and waited until she got ahold of him.
The email went out at 6:15, which gave me 45 minutes until the kids would arise. I saw no point in going back to sleep, and was wide awake myself, so I decided to do a little project for myself based on some dumb idea that came to my mind, and here is the result (and excuse the lack of proper set up to screenwriting laws. I can't get it to be centered etc on this computer for some reason). For obvious reasons I don't think I'll ever actually be using it, but it was fun to write.
EXT. MEADOW - DAY
A snaky path coming from green hills in the distance expands into a wide road along a lush valley. The clop of horseshoes trudging along. A man, SIR CARDIGAN, bounces up and down with the motions of the ride. A pack of arrows is slung over his right shoulder, and a large bow in his arm. He pulls on the reigns and comes to a stop. His body looks fatigued, but his eyes shine with purpose. Another horse winnies and snorts.
SIR CARDIGAN:
We are near our destination.
FINBURY:
Is that why we have stopped, my lord?
SIR CARDIGAN reaches into his robe and removes a pendant which hangs from his neck. He opens it, and gently takes a lock of blonde hair into his hand. He bring it up to his nose and inhales.
SIR CARDIGAN:
3000 miles and four years we have come, searching for the fair princess who stole my heart and left me but with a lock of her golden hair. The villagers were right, Finbury. That must be the palace. I can smell her lovely scent from here.
SIR CARDIGAN pulls on the reigns and starts galloping toward the destination. Ahead on the road is large building with a sign. 'Arm and hammer shampoo company.'
FINBURY:
There must be an army in there, my lord.
SIR CARDIGAN:
(Reaching for his arrows)
Then it's a good thing I brought my fire arrows.
Of course it would need alot of work done, but I think it makes for a cute scene. It would end with the very flammable shampoo company exploding as soon as the first fire arrow strikes.
Since I write for frum audiences, this sorta thing would never fly. But it was fun to dream of and put on paper... or rather, screen.
What do you think of it? How's my writing?
Oh, and be critical please. It's the only way I'll get better.
Yesterday morning my cell phone rang at 5:30 AM, which was about 4 hours after I had drifted off while reading a book.
The call was from the shipping company in Stavropol, and they wanted me to give them some information immediately. Luckily I had been forewarned, and made some calls, so I knew what to tell them.
But the guy wanted it all emailed to him, so I had to get up and go out on the porch and wait for his email. Problem was, he mispelled the 'yahoo' part, so I called Chayale and waited until she got ahold of him.
The email went out at 6:15, which gave me 45 minutes until the kids would arise. I saw no point in going back to sleep, and was wide awake myself, so I decided to do a little project for myself based on some dumb idea that came to my mind, and here is the result (and excuse the lack of proper set up to screenwriting laws. I can't get it to be centered etc on this computer for some reason). For obvious reasons I don't think I'll ever actually be using it, but it was fun to write.
EXT. MEADOW - DAY
A snaky path coming from green hills in the distance expands into a wide road along a lush valley. The clop of horseshoes trudging along. A man, SIR CARDIGAN, bounces up and down with the motions of the ride. A pack of arrows is slung over his right shoulder, and a large bow in his arm. He pulls on the reigns and comes to a stop. His body looks fatigued, but his eyes shine with purpose. Another horse winnies and snorts.
SIR CARDIGAN:
We are near our destination.
FINBURY:
Is that why we have stopped, my lord?
SIR CARDIGAN reaches into his robe and removes a pendant which hangs from his neck. He opens it, and gently takes a lock of blonde hair into his hand. He bring it up to his nose and inhales.
SIR CARDIGAN:
3000 miles and four years we have come, searching for the fair princess who stole my heart and left me but with a lock of her golden hair. The villagers were right, Finbury. That must be the palace. I can smell her lovely scent from here.
SIR CARDIGAN pulls on the reigns and starts galloping toward the destination. Ahead on the road is large building with a sign. 'Arm and hammer shampoo company.'
FINBURY:
There must be an army in there, my lord.
SIR CARDIGAN:
(Reaching for his arrows)
Then it's a good thing I brought my fire arrows.
Of course it would need alot of work done, but I think it makes for a cute scene. It would end with the very flammable shampoo company exploding as soon as the first fire arrow strikes.
Since I write for frum audiences, this sorta thing would never fly. But it was fun to dream of and put on paper... or rather, screen.
What do you think of it? How's my writing?
Oh, and be critical please. It's the only way I'll get better.
Early rise
Our Shlichus has gone full circle.
Chayale called. She is starting her trip back, and now that our ex-apartment is empty, she went with her mother to Stavropol's intourist hotel to get a room for the night. The room they gave her was the exact room in which we slept for our first week when we were alone and new in Stavropol.
Strange, huh?
Chayale called. She is starting her trip back, and now that our ex-apartment is empty, she went with her mother to Stavropol's intourist hotel to get a room for the night. The room they gave her was the exact room in which we slept for our first week when we were alone and new in Stavropol.
Strange, huh?
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
This guy is now on the Canadiens
He's not even Jewish. Mike Cammaleri, another newbie on the Habs roster, is a Jew. Hopefully some local Chabad House will convince the new ownership to light a public Menorah during a game. Maybe Mike can even say the Bracha and light it.
You can even have the lantern on the edge of a hockey stick.
I suggested this to my good friend Rabbi Yisroel Bernath of Chabad of NDG and he's working on it.
Hopefully.
The Stavropol-Montreal connection
Zakhar and Irina Faivushkin, our friends in Stavropol.
To sum up my day in one word: supertatty.
I was sick and stayed home from work, but nevertheless found the time and effort to call my sisters-in-law and demand that they get the kids away from me.
They took on some resposibility, but I still brought Miriam to school, and at the end of the day singlehandedly made them a wonderful supper which consisted of putting 20 dollars down at the counter by pizza pita and ordering 3 slices of plain plus a big strawberry milkshake.
I also bathed them and changed so many poops that at the end of the day when I washed my hands with soap I couldn't get used to the new smell on my arms (side question: as a child if I said a swearword (theoretically. I never ACTUALLY used swearwords. I even used to say "I pronise" with an 'N') I would get soap put into my mouth. It was supposed to clear my dirty mind. I was always wondered, shouldn't they have smeared the soap on my tuchis instead? after all, my grandmother used to say regarding potching "there is a direct connection from the tuchis to the brain.").
Chayale needed me to make some emergency phone calls to find a customs broker and movers etc so wshe can give the company in Russia the information before she leaves, and I spent several hours calling people only to find out that "I think this is what company X does" only to be connected to some company that sells yachts.
I even had my mother on the case, and at one point during the day she called me triumphantly. "I found it!" She yelled into the phone. "Let me give you the website for the Canadian Customs!!!"
I sat down and got ready to put to paper the words "canadiancustoms.com" and she started rattled off the following explaining every letter (as in s for Steven, c for Charlie...). I cut her off after about 5 minutes of this, and I share with you where I was up to (this is a fact):
w (as in Wilson) ww.cbsa-asfc.gc.ca/publications/pub/rc4151-v
At that point I cut her off and said, "Ma, it's ok. I found a different number and got a quote."
And while we're on the topic, my mother was on the phone the other day using those military codes for letters and she was really messing them up. She was saying (this is totally true):
"B as in Bought,
D as in Dot,
C as in Cot..."
I was like, "Ma, isn't the point of putting words to the letters so people can differentiate which letter you meant?"
But I finally got the information and called Chayale back to relay it. She had some exciting news. Irina Faivushkina is in Montreal!!
Let me backtrack a little. Before I left to Stavropol, I tried to find out if there were any relatives of Stavropol Jews in Montreal to whom I can speak to and find out what life is like there etc.
The only connection we had and felt like it was total hashgacha protis was that Chayale had a friend from when she was in Detroit for 3 years who was from Stavropol and had relatives there. When we got to Stavropol, we had the name "Tamara Avshalumova" and a phone number which turned out to be the wrong number. Eventually not only did we meet her and her entire family, but her sister-in-law became a big supporter of ours and we had that whole story on Chanukah when we said Kaddish for her brother-in-law (look in the archives this past Chanukah to read it. It's quite an amazing Hashgacha protis story in itself).
Also, this friend in Detroit had a like 18 year old son who visited and was extremely helpful in organizing her nephew Reuven's Bar Mitzvah, which was also inspirational.
But still, no Stavropol-Montreal connection.
But then, on one of our 'exiles' (we had to leave Russia every 3 months for visa issues) in Montreal, I had an idea (I believe this is also on the blog somewhere) to go to the Russian department in the 'Y', and find out if the lady in charge knows anyone in Montreal originally from Stavropol.
I made an appointment with a Mrs. Freiman (I believe that was her name). When I told her what I wanted, her eyes got moist and she said, "I am from Stavropol."
She knew of no other Stavropol Jews in Montreal, but her relative was in Stavropol and he needed help (he's a doctor who has mental issues). I had met her relative, and he was such a sweet guy. We spoke for an hour, she cried a little reminiscing and gave me a photo of her father to give to her relative. I am ashamed to say that I never got the opportunity to see him since that meeting, and still hold the picture of her father O"H which I hope to get to him someday.
So that was one Stavropol Jew in Montreal.
Then one day in Stavropol, I received a phone call. A woman speaking fluent English was on the line.
"Are you the rabbi of Stavropol?"
"Yes I am. How may I help you?"
"My name is Irina Faivushkina. My friend told me that a Rabbi had come to our city, and I am so excited. I would love to meet you!"
I met her and her sweet husband Zakhar, a quiet guy originally from Arkhangelsk who had met her just 3 years earlier on a trip in Israel, and they became family friends, and constant Shabbos guests. He works as a security guard for the city post office, and she is a prestigious professor who teaches electricity in a university. They're such a sweet couple.
She has a daughter Maria, who is married and lives... you guessed it! In Montreal!
Our next time in Montreal we met them and invited them over for a Shabbos meal (they are such a sweet young couple). We would meet them several more times, and they even showed up to Chaim's bris. Actually they were the only non-relatives to give us a gift at the circumcision. Maria's husband Eduard put on Tefillin there too!
That made 2 Stavropol Jews in Montreal.
Last week I wrote on here about Kostya Solomonov's brother (or cousin, still not sure), who just moved to Montreal. We spoke over the phone, but have yet to meet. It's difficult to organize a time when Chayale isn't around. The more interesting part of it is that his wife is Hillel (Gennady) Davidov's sister! The Davidovs were our best friends in Russia!
Make that 3 druzya v Montreal!
Today Chayale let out a bombshell.
Irina is in Montreal! She leaves at the end of the week! I called her and we organized that on Thursday (when Chayale's back), we will go out, perhaps to eat at a kosher restaurant.
She also told me that this past Pesach was the saddest holiday they'd ever had. Some Bochurim came over, but apparently they were rude people, because the community didn't like them. Instead they spoke about our family the entire time.
She said that Yefim (the president of the community) doesn't show his face anywhere anymore, and is terrified because the youth of the community apparently are furious at him for kicking us out.
She said that we are extremely missed, and that whenever people speak, they say how much they want us back. I told her that we probably can't return and she said that they don't want a different Rabbi and they think that over time I'll be allowed to return. Would I please return then? I told her I would love to.
You know that? it's the truth. I wish something would happen and we could stay... I wish whatever it is could happen before Chayale actually ships the stuff (which will take place tomorrow).
But maybe my job is supposed to be taking of the Stavropol ex-pats in Montreal...
Monday, July 20, 2009
Home alone
Today is lazy day today is lazy day, if you are lazy you are crazy...
Or something to that effect that we used to sing in camp.
Last night the girls hogged the room I was supposed to be sleeping in and watched a video (and let the record stand: it was NOT Uncle Moishy volume 6). Instead I sat downstairs on the couch surfing the net on my laptop as you can see from my previous post, which although it says that it was posted at 5:53 AM, that is only because my computer is set to Stavropol time in the dim hope that maybe President Obama will for some reasons threaten President Medvedev that if he doesn't let us back in Moscow will be nuked, and then we will be flown out to Stavropol on a private airplane that from the outside looks exactly like a stretch limo and even has a skylight which I can poke my head out of and wave around at the world, and then when we will arrive in Stavropol AT LEAST we will know the local time because I had kept it on my laptop the entire time.
THAT my friends, is a Gemara kup. This is what I learned (with an 'ed', Eli) in my 23 years of yeshiva (I added a couple of years since my mother used to walk by Yeshiva sometimes when she was pregnant with me).
So I wound up going to sleep at 2:00 AM (and interrupting the girls at the climactic part of the video... and let me stress that this video was NOT Professor Pella's place).
The kids awoke early, but let me sleep in til 8. Then I watched them for a long time.
However, to my good fortune, my mother decided to take them bikeriding down town. She asked me if I wanted to come. I told her that Bubby-time shouldn't be interrupted with Tatty-time as well, and squeezed my way out of it. It was a classic keep the table turned move which I perfected and trained my Ottawa boys to do back when I was in yeshiva.
The trick goes like this:
You walk up to someone and punch him in the face.
"What was that for?" he demands.
"What? you didn't get it? it was a joke!" You tell him, and then you spin the table around and turn it over so the crumbs fall all over him (metaphorically) and continue by saying: "it's your fault! YOU have no sense of humor!"
So in the end, you walk away with an extra hop in your step (usually because he gave you his sneakers), while he received both a punch AND an insult.
I TOLD you I learned in Yeshiva. Now I'm going to go back to playing computer games.
Oh, and the video my sisters watched? it was called 'Hand in hand' and it was made by JEM.
What, you thought it was something else? wow, you have such a horrid mind.
See? did it again.
Or something to that effect that we used to sing in camp.
Last night the girls hogged the room I was supposed to be sleeping in and watched a video (and let the record stand: it was NOT Uncle Moishy volume 6). Instead I sat downstairs on the couch surfing the net on my laptop as you can see from my previous post, which although it says that it was posted at 5:53 AM, that is only because my computer is set to Stavropol time in the dim hope that maybe President Obama will for some reasons threaten President Medvedev that if he doesn't let us back in Moscow will be nuked, and then we will be flown out to Stavropol on a private airplane that from the outside looks exactly like a stretch limo and even has a skylight which I can poke my head out of and wave around at the world, and then when we will arrive in Stavropol AT LEAST we will know the local time because I had kept it on my laptop the entire time.
THAT my friends, is a Gemara kup. This is what I learned (with an 'ed', Eli) in my 23 years of yeshiva (I added a couple of years since my mother used to walk by Yeshiva sometimes when she was pregnant with me).
So I wound up going to sleep at 2:00 AM (and interrupting the girls at the climactic part of the video... and let me stress that this video was NOT Professor Pella's place).
The kids awoke early, but let me sleep in til 8. Then I watched them for a long time.
However, to my good fortune, my mother decided to take them bikeriding down town. She asked me if I wanted to come. I told her that Bubby-time shouldn't be interrupted with Tatty-time as well, and squeezed my way out of it. It was a classic keep the table turned move which I perfected and trained my Ottawa boys to do back when I was in yeshiva.
The trick goes like this:
You walk up to someone and punch him in the face.
"What was that for?" he demands.
"What? you didn't get it? it was a joke!" You tell him, and then you spin the table around and turn it over so the crumbs fall all over him (metaphorically) and continue by saying: "it's your fault! YOU have no sense of humor!"
So in the end, you walk away with an extra hop in your step (usually because he gave you his sneakers), while he received both a punch AND an insult.
I TOLD you I learned in Yeshiva. Now I'm going to go back to playing computer games.
Oh, and the video my sisters watched? it was called 'Hand in hand' and it was made by JEM.
What, you thought it was something else? wow, you have such a horrid mind.
See? did it again.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Chayale makes a mistake
Over Shabbos (in which I was very Tattyesque) I got a report from Miriam's counselor on an interesting thing she did.
A friend of hers came to camp, and when her mother left she began to cry. Miriam went over to her, patted her on the back and said "don't worry. Your Mommy will come soon. My Mommy is in Russia now, and I know my Mommy is also going to come home soon."
Regarding Chayale's mistake:
As I wrote before, she had packed clothes for me to put on Miriam every day so she won't wind up mismatched wearing a blue shirt Chaim's size which says "boys like hockey" with pair of womens pantyhose that our cleaning lady had mistakenly put in her drawer. Chayale had put these all in large ziploc bags.
Well, she had also filled a large black bag (the kind environmentalists sell for like 30 bucks and which you are supposed to go shopping with instead of using plastic bags, which in my opinion are better since you can easily put stinky diapers in them, close the bags and dump them in the garbage) with clothes, diapers, pacifiers and even diaper rash cream (that one was for me... you know, it's the summer...) which was specially designated for Shabbos, which is very ironic, since it looked exactly like Savta Simchas bag except that there weren't little yellow birds flying around inside of it. (Come to think of it, wouldn't Savta Simchas birds have pooped all over her samovar? I mean, they LIVED in the bag...)
I brought this with me to my parents house, where we were spending Shabbos. Actually I felt very organized, since I managed to get everything over to my parents before Shabbos.
Well, except for my Kapota, hat, gartel and Tallis.
And I only discovered that when it was time to go to Shul, which meant I had to walk the 10 minute trip home in my white shirt past all the big Rabbis who all looked at me like I was naked. I felt naked, come to think of it. I almost curled up into a ball when I passed the seminary, but then I remembered that everyone was away in camp, so I could walk naked down the streets if I so please.
Not that I ever would.
Anyway, Shabbos day Chaim's tuchis was like that geyser in yosemite. Every half hour he had another poop, and one of them leaked. I went to get a change of clothing and gasp of all gasps Chayale had forgotten to put one in her all terrain bag! Not only that, but there was also no pyjamas for either of them, and she KNEW we would have to stay over Motzei Shabbos since the kids run on a tight schedule and would be asleep before 7 (and up before 7 the next morning too).
So I just put them to bed tonight in their clothes.
They'll live.
A friend of hers came to camp, and when her mother left she began to cry. Miriam went over to her, patted her on the back and said "don't worry. Your Mommy will come soon. My Mommy is in Russia now, and I know my Mommy is also going to come home soon."
Regarding Chayale's mistake:
As I wrote before, she had packed clothes for me to put on Miriam every day so she won't wind up mismatched wearing a blue shirt Chaim's size which says "boys like hockey" with pair of womens pantyhose that our cleaning lady had mistakenly put in her drawer. Chayale had put these all in large ziploc bags.
Well, she had also filled a large black bag (the kind environmentalists sell for like 30 bucks and which you are supposed to go shopping with instead of using plastic bags, which in my opinion are better since you can easily put stinky diapers in them, close the bags and dump them in the garbage) with clothes, diapers, pacifiers and even diaper rash cream (that one was for me... you know, it's the summer...) which was specially designated for Shabbos, which is very ironic, since it looked exactly like Savta Simchas bag except that there weren't little yellow birds flying around inside of it. (Come to think of it, wouldn't Savta Simchas birds have pooped all over her samovar? I mean, they LIVED in the bag...)
I brought this with me to my parents house, where we were spending Shabbos. Actually I felt very organized, since I managed to get everything over to my parents before Shabbos.
Well, except for my Kapota, hat, gartel and Tallis.
And I only discovered that when it was time to go to Shul, which meant I had to walk the 10 minute trip home in my white shirt past all the big Rabbis who all looked at me like I was naked. I felt naked, come to think of it. I almost curled up into a ball when I passed the seminary, but then I remembered that everyone was away in camp, so I could walk naked down the streets if I so please.
Not that I ever would.
Anyway, Shabbos day Chaim's tuchis was like that geyser in yosemite. Every half hour he had another poop, and one of them leaked. I went to get a change of clothing and gasp of all gasps Chayale had forgotten to put one in her all terrain bag! Not only that, but there was also no pyjamas for either of them, and she KNEW we would have to stay over Motzei Shabbos since the kids run on a tight schedule and would be asleep before 7 (and up before 7 the next morning too).
So I just put them to bed tonight in their clothes.
They'll live.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Short post
No excitement. Just a normal Supertatty day, except that I decided not to go to work because it's Friday.
Instead I'm reading some books to guide me through my writing process. I've also been going over my characters... It looks like this might be something special.
Instead I'm reading some books to guide me through my writing process. I've also been going over my characters... It looks like this might be something special.
The life and trials of a single Dad (day 2)
Miriam just went to sleep. It has been a long day, so I think that when I finish this I will also plunk my tuches in bed.
Last night Chaim cried for about 5 minutes before falling asleep.
"How touching," I thought (naively, as you'll soon see). "He misses his Mommy."
I surfed the internet, cleaned up a little, and fell asleep. I even remember my dream, in which I was touring a Jewish university where I was thinking of becoming a student. I was very impressed with its facilities, and at the end of the tour my guide brought us (there were other potential students with me) to the university kitchen, where lunch would be waiting for us each day.
The kitchen was massive, with silver steel tables all over the place and lots of giant sinks. The guide then led us to the food warehouse, at which point the dream got strange. In order to get to the storage warehouse you had to go down these stairs that led from a garden to a door under the earth. When the door was opened, we saw a tiny little room with a couple of boxes of apples, oranges and hay (odd, huh? there weren't even any ANIMALS in my dream). The room was TINY.
We stepped inside, and then the guy ran out laughing, and shut and bolted the door behind him. We could hear him snorting from laughter on the other side, but we were stuck in this tiny underground room with only apples, oranges and hay to eat, and suddenly for some reason we discovered that the air was going.
Meanwhile this hilarious prankster is giggling like crazy behind the door. As I tried thinking of a way out, I very vaguely heard soft crying. I looked around, and sure enough it got louder.
Soon it got loud enough to wake me from my slumber, and I realized Miriam was screaming from her room. I rolled out of bed, and wandered into the kitchen rubbing my eyes. 1:30 AM. I said a word that I am not allowed to write here (but it rhymed with 'trap').
Then I went into her room to put her pacifier in her mouth and go back to sleep, but she only cried harder. I tried everything, and finally had to remove her from the area so as not to wake Chaim. Apparently she had a booboo and was hungry and wanted to go to sleep without a diaper.
I stayed up with the cranky child for an hour and a half before I finally managed to coax her into the guestroom bed. I put a towel under her to absorb the dampness which is the reality of an overnight with no diaper. I went back to sleep.
6:00 AM Chaim wakes up crying. And he's again inconsolible. Figuring he was hungry I fed him a large breakfast. But he was still upset, so I put him back to bed where he fell asleep for half an hour. Meanwhile Miriam was awake, her bed full of pish, the towel having apparently been used mid-sleep as a wipe.
I put everything in the wash and then hung around a bit hoping to fall asleep with Miriam jumping on me. At some point she raked her nails across my nose, and now it looks like I caught a raccoon in a garbage can or something. (I say that to people so they shouldn't think my 2 year old daughter beat me up).
Soon I got them dressed and out of the house. It was cold outside, so I went in to get Chaim's blanket. Realizing that it was still in the dryer from yesterdays fiasco (and he had slept with my blanket), I fetched it and brought it down to him. His eyes lit up and he exploded in joy, hugging it and kissing it, and I realized that it was not his mother he had been missing all night and morning.
After dropping Miriam off in camp, I came home and put Chaim to bed. He curled up happily with his blanket and fell asleep (for several long hours, I am told). Meanwhile before work I figured I'd take a shower, since I couldn't yesterday due to the plumbing.
I left the front door open so my sister-in-law Chavi can come in (she babysits in the morning), went into the bathroom, and got naked.
I turned on the shower and got ready to step in, and hear the front door close.
"Chavi?" I called.
"Hello?" a voice answered. Not Chavi, but a woman nonetheless.
"Um, one minute!" I shouted, wondering who would walk into a house. I dressed and came out, and this strange lady I have seen before was standing there.
"Hi, I'm ready to start work."
"Huh?"
"You know, cleaning."
At that moment my mother called. "Zvi, I forgot to tell you! This morning your cleaning lady is supposed to come!"
So I went back into the shower while she mopped the floors. Then I went to work. There I found out that one of the stamp dealing programs had been corrupted somehow and I could no longer go online at work. I said a word that cannot be published here (let's just say it rhymed with 'Shmoy geShvald'). That sucks, because I do such boring work and going online when it gets too rough is the only thing keeping me going.
At 1, I couldn't handle it, and left. Chayale called, and we chatted for awhile. She is writing everything down, and when she returns I'll try to convince her to post it here. The one really nice thing she mentioned was that when she arrived at the Stavropol airport late at night, there was an entourage from the community there waiting for her.
I wrote for a bit, and did some shopping, and then made a gourmet dinner of hot dog in scrambled eggs, mashed potatoes, and salad (all made by me, all making everyone say something that rhymes with rum).
The kids were exhausted by 6:30, and I put them to bed. Chaim went straight to sleep, but Miriam was awake until I 9:30. I finally made a huge second dinner for her, after which she promptly fell asleep.
I'm so tired. I'm gonna go get some shluffication.
Last night Chaim cried for about 5 minutes before falling asleep.
"How touching," I thought (naively, as you'll soon see). "He misses his Mommy."
I surfed the internet, cleaned up a little, and fell asleep. I even remember my dream, in which I was touring a Jewish university where I was thinking of becoming a student. I was very impressed with its facilities, and at the end of the tour my guide brought us (there were other potential students with me) to the university kitchen, where lunch would be waiting for us each day.
The kitchen was massive, with silver steel tables all over the place and lots of giant sinks. The guide then led us to the food warehouse, at which point the dream got strange. In order to get to the storage warehouse you had to go down these stairs that led from a garden to a door under the earth. When the door was opened, we saw a tiny little room with a couple of boxes of apples, oranges and hay (odd, huh? there weren't even any ANIMALS in my dream). The room was TINY.
We stepped inside, and then the guy ran out laughing, and shut and bolted the door behind him. We could hear him snorting from laughter on the other side, but we were stuck in this tiny underground room with only apples, oranges and hay to eat, and suddenly for some reason we discovered that the air was going.
Meanwhile this hilarious prankster is giggling like crazy behind the door. As I tried thinking of a way out, I very vaguely heard soft crying. I looked around, and sure enough it got louder.
Soon it got loud enough to wake me from my slumber, and I realized Miriam was screaming from her room. I rolled out of bed, and wandered into the kitchen rubbing my eyes. 1:30 AM. I said a word that I am not allowed to write here (but it rhymed with 'trap').
Then I went into her room to put her pacifier in her mouth and go back to sleep, but she only cried harder. I tried everything, and finally had to remove her from the area so as not to wake Chaim. Apparently she had a booboo and was hungry and wanted to go to sleep without a diaper.
I stayed up with the cranky child for an hour and a half before I finally managed to coax her into the guestroom bed. I put a towel under her to absorb the dampness which is the reality of an overnight with no diaper. I went back to sleep.
6:00 AM Chaim wakes up crying. And he's again inconsolible. Figuring he was hungry I fed him a large breakfast. But he was still upset, so I put him back to bed where he fell asleep for half an hour. Meanwhile Miriam was awake, her bed full of pish, the towel having apparently been used mid-sleep as a wipe.
I put everything in the wash and then hung around a bit hoping to fall asleep with Miriam jumping on me. At some point she raked her nails across my nose, and now it looks like I caught a raccoon in a garbage can or something. (I say that to people so they shouldn't think my 2 year old daughter beat me up).
Soon I got them dressed and out of the house. It was cold outside, so I went in to get Chaim's blanket. Realizing that it was still in the dryer from yesterdays fiasco (and he had slept with my blanket), I fetched it and brought it down to him. His eyes lit up and he exploded in joy, hugging it and kissing it, and I realized that it was not his mother he had been missing all night and morning.
After dropping Miriam off in camp, I came home and put Chaim to bed. He curled up happily with his blanket and fell asleep (for several long hours, I am told). Meanwhile before work I figured I'd take a shower, since I couldn't yesterday due to the plumbing.
I left the front door open so my sister-in-law Chavi can come in (she babysits in the morning), went into the bathroom, and got naked.
I turned on the shower and got ready to step in, and hear the front door close.
"Chavi?" I called.
"Hello?" a voice answered. Not Chavi, but a woman nonetheless.
"Um, one minute!" I shouted, wondering who would walk into a house. I dressed and came out, and this strange lady I have seen before was standing there.
"Hi, I'm ready to start work."
"Huh?"
"You know, cleaning."
At that moment my mother called. "Zvi, I forgot to tell you! This morning your cleaning lady is supposed to come!"
So I went back into the shower while she mopped the floors. Then I went to work. There I found out that one of the stamp dealing programs had been corrupted somehow and I could no longer go online at work. I said a word that cannot be published here (let's just say it rhymed with 'Shmoy geShvald'). That sucks, because I do such boring work and going online when it gets too rough is the only thing keeping me going.
At 1, I couldn't handle it, and left. Chayale called, and we chatted for awhile. She is writing everything down, and when she returns I'll try to convince her to post it here. The one really nice thing she mentioned was that when she arrived at the Stavropol airport late at night, there was an entourage from the community there waiting for her.
I wrote for a bit, and did some shopping, and then made a gourmet dinner of hot dog in scrambled eggs, mashed potatoes, and salad (all made by me, all making everyone say something that rhymes with rum).
The kids were exhausted by 6:30, and I put them to bed. Chaim went straight to sleep, but Miriam was awake until I 9:30. I finally made a huge second dinner for her, after which she promptly fell asleep.
I'm so tired. I'm gonna go get some shluffication.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
The life and trials of a single Dad (day 1)
Yesterday morning at 8:00, Chayale left to Stavropol to pack up our stuff and say our goodbyes. She went with her mother, and they flew together from JFK. To cut me some slack, two of Chayale's sisters arrived in montreal yesterday morning.
The first day was easy, and I had lots of help. After the kids went to bed, I finally understood Chayale's complaints about how she cleans all day. I spent roughly two hours cleaning the house after a large supper in our apartment with my sister and Shaindel and Sara (Chayale's sisters).
I also gave the kids a bath. When I put them to slep, I felt like a good Tatty.
But day 1 doesn't count. Everyone knows that. I wasn't expecting what day 2 had to offer.
I awoke at 6:30. The kids were giggling in their beds, so I got up and made myself a coffee humming a happy tune. I was going to be Superdaddy!
After a while Miriam came out of the room to say good morning, and I went inside to get Chaim. I reached inside his crib and recoiled. It was like a poop grenade had gone off. Mental sirens blared in my brain, and missiles of stench clouded my nose. It was a teething poop (you Tattys and Mommys out there are nodding your heads sadly, while you kid-muggles are trying to imagine what it could possibly smell like. Burning tuna? Moldy dustballs?). (Side note: I wonder what alligator poops smell like when they teethe).
It was not just a regular run of the mill teething diaper in which you run around the house opening all the windows and boiling lemons. This was diarrhea teething poop. And it was all over his crib. Thank G-d it didn't get on his pillow, because I have no idea how to clean that (can you put pillows in the washing machine? what about the dryer? if so, how come you never see pillows on clotheslines?)
I found some wipes and used them all cleaning him off. Oh, did I mention that the LITTLE KAKKER SQUIRMED THE ENTIRE FRIEKING TIME I WAS CHANGING HIM AND GOT HIS HANDS FULL OF POOP?
Then I threw all his stuff into the washing machine, dumped a ton of detergent in there, and turned it on hot.
Then I went outside to the back porch and ran down a couple of steps.
Finally, I inhaled air once again.
That was my morning. I stress that I was calm throughout. I fed them a nutricious breakfast of hot oatmeal and peas, followed with a bottle of orange juice. Then I dressed them (actually Miriam pretty much dressed herself. She refused to wear the shirt Chayale had set aside for her, and chose a different one which people tell me actually matched).
(Side note: Chayale actually got these large ziploc bags and put 7 different pairs of clothes in each of them, so that I won't dress Miriam in a non-matching outfit. apparently last time she had left me with Miriam back when we were in Stavropol, the local women had snorted vodka out their noses from giggleing when Chayale asked them how I had dressed Miriam. And if the Russian women thought I couldn't match her outfits...)
I brought Miriam to school, read her a book and went to work. Easy peasy.
I came home to find plumbers in our apartment. The Samamas bathroom ceiling had caved in (perhaps from the overwhelming smell of Chaim's morning gift). Did I mention that they live under us?
So Ronjon, our Bangladeshi landlord (and a nice guy to boot) was there fixing it up. He pulled out a clip that we use for Chaim's hair, and explained that it had blocked the pipe, thereby causing all the damage.
No more clips in the bathtub, I guess. He also installed something in the drain that catches stuff so our tub is now more babyproof (96%).
Ronjon told us that until tomorrow morning, we cannot use the bathtub. This was a dilemma, because tonight was my mothers turn to make supper, and she had called to say that the spaghetti and meatballs was almost ready.
Spaghetti and meatballs equals bath time. I mean, even I have to take a bath after slurping the long pasta which always somehow winds up wacking me in the back of my neck like a whip and leaving tomato sauce stains on my hair. So vacuum night is bad time to have no bath allowed.
And no, I wasn't going to bathe Miriam in the sink.
Not even the fleishig one.
I remained calm and collected, and decided then and there to bring them to my parents house. This worked out well, since I was able to run out to Walmart to buy more diapers while Chayale's sisters put soap in the kids' faces. I had also made my own diaper bag, in which I had put their pyjamas. Superdad!
I had a funny incident in Walmart. The lines were long. Real long. So I hit an idea, thanks to my mother. Why not go to the pharmacy and pay there? Problem is, I need to buy something pharmaceuticalish.
There was no line, and I quickly looked around, and saw some tea.
"Great", I thought. "We don't have any tea at home."
So I took some 'sleepy time' tea, and brought it (with the diapers) to the counter. In order to make it seem like I was really interested in buying the tea and the diapers were a side thing, I asked the woman if there was any caffiene in the tea.
She looked at the box.
"It is called sleepy time," she remarked. "But let me ask the guy in the back."
Turns out it has no caffiene. Marked in large letters on the top of the box. But hey, she let me buy the diapers as well.
As I was leaving, she said to me, "I hope you sleep better tonight."
When I got into the car (Estys), I looked in the mirror and saw that I have purple bags under my eyes.
Am I really that tired?
Written at 4:45 AM.
Just kidding.
The first day was easy, and I had lots of help. After the kids went to bed, I finally understood Chayale's complaints about how she cleans all day. I spent roughly two hours cleaning the house after a large supper in our apartment with my sister and Shaindel and Sara (Chayale's sisters).
I also gave the kids a bath. When I put them to slep, I felt like a good Tatty.
But day 1 doesn't count. Everyone knows that. I wasn't expecting what day 2 had to offer.
I awoke at 6:30. The kids were giggling in their beds, so I got up and made myself a coffee humming a happy tune. I was going to be Superdaddy!
After a while Miriam came out of the room to say good morning, and I went inside to get Chaim. I reached inside his crib and recoiled. It was like a poop grenade had gone off. Mental sirens blared in my brain, and missiles of stench clouded my nose. It was a teething poop (you Tattys and Mommys out there are nodding your heads sadly, while you kid-muggles are trying to imagine what it could possibly smell like. Burning tuna? Moldy dustballs?). (Side note: I wonder what alligator poops smell like when they teethe).
It was not just a regular run of the mill teething diaper in which you run around the house opening all the windows and boiling lemons. This was diarrhea teething poop. And it was all over his crib. Thank G-d it didn't get on his pillow, because I have no idea how to clean that (can you put pillows in the washing machine? what about the dryer? if so, how come you never see pillows on clotheslines?)
I found some wipes and used them all cleaning him off. Oh, did I mention that the LITTLE KAKKER SQUIRMED THE ENTIRE FRIEKING TIME I WAS CHANGING HIM AND GOT HIS HANDS FULL OF POOP?
Then I threw all his stuff into the washing machine, dumped a ton of detergent in there, and turned it on hot.
Then I went outside to the back porch and ran down a couple of steps.
Finally, I inhaled air once again.
That was my morning. I stress that I was calm throughout. I fed them a nutricious breakfast of hot oatmeal and peas, followed with a bottle of orange juice. Then I dressed them (actually Miriam pretty much dressed herself. She refused to wear the shirt Chayale had set aside for her, and chose a different one which people tell me actually matched).
(Side note: Chayale actually got these large ziploc bags and put 7 different pairs of clothes in each of them, so that I won't dress Miriam in a non-matching outfit. apparently last time she had left me with Miriam back when we were in Stavropol, the local women had snorted vodka out their noses from giggleing when Chayale asked them how I had dressed Miriam. And if the Russian women thought I couldn't match her outfits...)
I brought Miriam to school, read her a book and went to work. Easy peasy.
I came home to find plumbers in our apartment. The Samamas bathroom ceiling had caved in (perhaps from the overwhelming smell of Chaim's morning gift). Did I mention that they live under us?
So Ronjon, our Bangladeshi landlord (and a nice guy to boot) was there fixing it up. He pulled out a clip that we use for Chaim's hair, and explained that it had blocked the pipe, thereby causing all the damage.
No more clips in the bathtub, I guess. He also installed something in the drain that catches stuff so our tub is now more babyproof (96%).
Ronjon told us that until tomorrow morning, we cannot use the bathtub. This was a dilemma, because tonight was my mothers turn to make supper, and she had called to say that the spaghetti and meatballs was almost ready.
Spaghetti and meatballs equals bath time. I mean, even I have to take a bath after slurping the long pasta which always somehow winds up wacking me in the back of my neck like a whip and leaving tomato sauce stains on my hair. So vacuum night is bad time to have no bath allowed.
And no, I wasn't going to bathe Miriam in the sink.
Not even the fleishig one.
I remained calm and collected, and decided then and there to bring them to my parents house. This worked out well, since I was able to run out to Walmart to buy more diapers while Chayale's sisters put soap in the kids' faces. I had also made my own diaper bag, in which I had put their pyjamas. Superdad!
I had a funny incident in Walmart. The lines were long. Real long. So I hit an idea, thanks to my mother. Why not go to the pharmacy and pay there? Problem is, I need to buy something pharmaceuticalish.
There was no line, and I quickly looked around, and saw some tea.
"Great", I thought. "We don't have any tea at home."
So I took some 'sleepy time' tea, and brought it (with the diapers) to the counter. In order to make it seem like I was really interested in buying the tea and the diapers were a side thing, I asked the woman if there was any caffiene in the tea.
She looked at the box.
"It is called sleepy time," she remarked. "But let me ask the guy in the back."
Turns out it has no caffiene. Marked in large letters on the top of the box. But hey, she let me buy the diapers as well.
As I was leaving, she said to me, "I hope you sleep better tonight."
When I got into the car (Estys), I looked in the mirror and saw that I have purple bags under my eyes.
Am I really that tired?
Written at 4:45 AM.
Just kidding.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
My final letter to the Jews of Stavropol
To the wonderful Jews of Stavropol,
The last year and a half has been a time of tremendous growth for my family and me. We left our comfortable lives in Canada, close to our parents, our friends, kosher food and Jewish life and traveled across the world to dedicate our lives to the development of Jewish communal life for the many Jews of Stavropol.
We thought we came to teach, but we didn’t expect to learn so much, and meet so many wonderful people who would become our friends and community. In just over a year, we ourselves learnt so much, and not just the Russian language and culture.
What we learnt inspired us, and continues to teach us.
We saw a hundred Jews get together for our holidays and dance to Jewish music, we put up 5 Mezuzas in different residences and one Mezuza on the door of a prominent Stavropol business. Two Bar Mitzvahs and two upsherens were celebrated, and many Jewish children were taught about our heritage, traditions and culture.
We saw wealthier people from the community reach out to assist their brothers in need, with money, food and medicine.
We watched as week after week Jews got together every Friday night to pray, eat, and take in Shabbat together. We learnt weekly Torah classes and Jewish culinary arts. Every Friday many Jewish businessmen would stop work to don Tefillin.
A Sefer Torah was brought into our city which belongs to the Jewish community of Stavropol, and we saw 200 Jews gather to welcome it with tears in their eyes, and dance proudly in the streets for the first time in close to a century.
Circumstances changed all that and we are now forced to continue our lives back where we started, in Montreal. We still haven’t come to terms with the reality and we miss our community so much, but we know that all that was done was not for nothing.
Physically we may not be there to assist in any way, but it was proven that kosher can be kept at an economical price – why we even made an entire restaurant kosher for a day! It’s safe to walk in the streets proudly as a Jew, and even Shabbat can be kept in Stavropol.
I was sent to Stavropol by Rabbi Lazar, and my objective was to establish Jewish communal infrastructure. I didn’t get that far, but the goal can be continued. The community can rally together and demand the return of our Synagogue (and perhaps even our Torah scroll which can be seen in the Lermontova library), to be used as a community center as well.
The old cemetery can be cleaned up, and a new plot of land bought. With the help of the wealthier members of the community, a board of trustees to finance community projects can be put together. They can help organize a ‘Khevra Kaddisha’, soup kitchen and different clubs. While Moscow will help out financially, ultimately it is up to the Jews of Stavropol to decide their own fate and future, and it can be done. Already the work has been started, and it can continue.
Read more about our culture and people. Jewish.ru is a good place to start if you have internet access. And when you understand what it’s all about, start trying to observe the Mitzvahs.
A month ago, I met with Rabbi Lazar and told him that should the situation ever change and my family be allowed to return, we will pick ourselves up and come back to the community that our hearts grew to love. This remains true, and if anyone can do anything to facilitate our return, we would be most grateful.
We may be far away, but we will always be thinking of you. And if there is ever anything we can do to help, I give you my contact information. Feel free to contact me with any questions or comments, and should you ever visit Montreal, please let us know so we can welcome you with open arms.
My contact information (the best way to get ahold of me is through email):
Rabbi Zvi Hershcovich
4607 Vezina
Montreal, Quebec
Home telephone: +1-514-341-6399
Mobile telephone: +1-514-621-9253
Email: rabbizvi44@yahoo.com
I am also on odnoklassniki.ru and vkontakte.ru where there are discussions in the group ‘Stavropolski Evrei’.
I miss you all, and someday we will all meet in Jerusalem (when Moshiach comes).
Your Rabbi,
Zvi.
I write this on the blog to hear your thoughts. This is what is going to go out in the mail to the entire community early next week iy"h. Any input would be appreciated.
P.S. The picture above is going in the letter.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The reward for being the first business with a Mezuza in Stavropol, Russia
Pictured: Kostya's cafe. 'Cafe Kovcheg'. (Interestingly enough Kovcheg is used as the Russian word for Aron Kodesh).
Officially, there are a couple of million Jews in Russia. In reality, the number is much, much higher.
For example, the latest official census in Stavropol has almost 700 Jews listed. Yet I personally have met more than 700 Jews, and everyone in the community knows that there is at least 3000 of them living in Stavropol.
Everyone in Russia knows of families where 'they used to be Jewish', 'they're too afraid to openly say they're Jewish, but everyone knows they're Jews' or 'they converted'.
This is all thanks to 80 years of communism and general anti-Semitism which still exists today (as evidenced by the 20 or so swastikas I found, filmed and reported during my time in Stavropol, and one bench marked all over with 'kill the Jews' outside the local zoo).
Even the more openly Jewish Jews are afraid to walk outside with a Yarmulka. In Russia, it is easier to convince someone to get a circumcision that to wear Tzitzis publicly.
While I put up several Mezuzas in Stavropol, one Mezuza stands out because it was at a business.
Kostya and Sasha Solomonov own a very successful restaurant in a village just outside of Stavropol. The restaurant is off the main highway and has a small hotel on top of it. The interior has an atmosphere, and they have a fantastic reputation, as I found out by arriving each Friday afternoon (to put Tefillin on the brothers) and finding the place half full.
He also prides his restaurant in that he has over 80 recipes for Shashlik, the most in the entire South of Russia.
We had our Hachnosas Sefer Torah ceremony in his place, and when I went in the early morning to make the kitchen kosher, my father-in-law (who had flown in for the occasion) suggested he put up a Mezuza. Kostya immediately agreed, and we put the Mezuza up in his restaurant.
Every Friday I visited, and would kiss the Mezuza dramatically in front of him to show him how happy I was for him.
Ironically, I met with the mayor of the village who told me that he would give me land free of charge to build a synagogue. Impracticle, since it was too far for Jews to get to, but still a nice gesture.
This morning while I was davening my mother showed up at our door with an important message. Kostya had called several times, and he had an intertpreter with him. He needed to speak to me immediately. My mother had tried to reach me but our phone was down and she DOESN'T READ THIS BLOG! Yet.
(By the way, our phone is running again).
I went to my parents house and called Kostya. He was really excited, and had telephoned to inform me of the recent news, that he had been made president.
"I know that already." I told him.
"But do you know that I'm not just the president of the city of Stavropol, rather the ENTIRE REGION of which there are officially 50,000 Jews?"
That I didn't know.
We had a good, long chat. He asked me advice on what he should be doing, and I told him to try and continue doing what I started, i.e. building infrastructure for communities to be in place.
He told me he was going to put in a formal request asking for my return. I thanked him for that and told him I hope it works out.
He asked me what's happening with the Torah? does it stay in Stavropol? "Of course", I told him. "I already spoke with the guy donating the Torah and it will remain in the city."
Then I found out that he has a brother (or is it cousin? the Russian words for cousin and brother is the same) who just moved to Montreal! I organized a meeting with him, which will take place tomorrow.
He lives like 10 blocks away from my parents!
We chatted a little longer, and then he had to go.
After I hung up Chayale mentioned how his newfound status and prestige all comes from putting up a Mezuza in his restaurant.
Before using his cafe he wasn't active and involved in the community. But after making his place kosher, having a Hachnasas Sefer Torah event, and banging in a Mezuza, it looks like his fortunes have turned for the better.
The community, when thinking of someone who would be a good leader, approached him for the job.
Don't underestimate the power of a Mezuza.
Friday, July 10, 2009
To toivel a phone
If anyone has been trying to call us, don't.
Our phone is dead, because Miriam dunked it into the toilet (to test the temperature of the water, I assume). This means that it is now kosher, and can only be used to flip pancakes over.
Our phone is dead, because Miriam dunked it into the toilet (to test the temperature of the water, I assume). This means that it is now kosher, and can only be used to flip pancakes over.
The meeting in Stavropol made the news
Now why did they make it public?
See it on:
shmais
Source on the Federation website
I also find it odd that we weren't mentioned, but I guess they only want to share good news.
See it on:
shmais
Source on the Federation website
I also find it odd that we weren't mentioned, but I guess they only want to share good news.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
From the department of raising kids
This morning Miriam woke at 6. I watched her til 8, and after Chaim got up, she managed to abuse him somehow with her Sussy (pacifier) in her mouth, so I took it away.
She went into her room, upset. A couple of minutes later she stormed out, rushed over to me and using her left (weaker) hand, proceeded to hit my leg with each word as she said, "don't... take... my... sussy... away..."
Now what are they TEACHING her in camp?
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