Slice of Life

We are a nation of extremes. The horrific division between us that peaked on Yom Kippur has been replaced with a unity that has not been seen here for as long as I can remember. The pendulum has swung from one extreme – of sin’as chinam – all the way to the other side – of ahavas chinam. The constant stream of stories showing love, caring, and support for one another continues to branch out further into more acts of kindness. Who we are now radically differs from who we were just over two weeks ago. We are unrecognizable. But this is us. The real us. We are being kind not just to our own, but even more so, to the “other.”

A teacher needs students. A chef needs ingredients. A pilot needs a plane. And a writer needs words. I have a problem. I’m a writer. But I have no words. And when I do have words, they generally get stuck in my throat. I considered skipping my column this week, but I’m going to do my best to give you a picture of what life looks like in a war zone.

I was very young, but I have a clear memory of arriving with my mother a”h at the Young Israel of Kew Gardens Hills on Yom Kippur morning in 1973 and being told by the guard that war had broken out in Israel. I did not fully understand the implications of the news, but based on my mother’s reaction, I knew it wasn’t good. Fifty years later, I had a déjà vu experience when I arrived at shul on Simchas Torah morning. This time I understood the implications more than I would have liked.

As I walk through the streets of my neighborhood, I hear the sounds of stirring music and soulful singing coming from the windows of shuls and private homes. Thousands of Jews descend upon the Kosel and join together to say S’lichos.

As much as I love writing, my profession is social work. I recently started a new position in that field. While my previous jobs were local, I now commute to Yerushalayim three times a week. The 7 a.m. bus is usually smooth sailing. But last week, when I traveled in the afternoon, there was total gridlock at the entrance to the city. It took almost half an hour to get from the entrance to Binyanei Ha’uma (a distance that should take two minutes).

Chiang Mai is the largest city in northern Thailand and the second largest city in the country. It is located 700 km (435 miles) north of Bangkok in a mountainous region called the Thai highlands. Last year, the Friedmans,* a couple with whom my husband and I are acquainted, spent a memorable Rosh HaShanah at the Chabad House in Chiang Mai on their way back to Israel from a visit to Australia. Their experience in Chiang Mai far exceeded their expectations.