Tuesday 25 December 2012

Tsunami, trekking and text messages


Eight years ago I was lucky enough to be enjoying a holiday of a lifetime in South East Asia. My husband and I had planned the holiday meticulously and it had been over a year in the making. A visit to Hong Kong, Singapore and Borneo were on the cards. Whilst we were there however, the trip of our dreams was a trip that we would remember forever for reasons other than the sights. Eight years ago today something terrible happened that changed areas of South East Asia and the lives of over a million people forever. The day of the Tsunami, we had travelled inland to the heart of the Bornean jungle. We were spending a night in a longhouse followed by a jungle trek (more of a nature walk if I'm truly honest). The weather was appalling and as we kayaked down a river, our guide commented on how the water level was much higher than when he had been there the previous week and there hadn't been so much rain to warrant it. We didn't take much notice of it really and concentrated on not capsizing. Not having any phones or anything other than essentials was bliss and on our return to the coast we mourned our return to civilisation. 
When we arrived at our hotel the mood was sombre and it seemed like there was no one around. We went straight to our room to shower and in the course of reintegrating we turned on our phones. There were 62 text messages waiting for me! Slightly astounded I started to read them
"Please call re earthquake" Dad
"Please call re earthquake and tidal wave" Dad
"Haven't heard from you... Are you ok? Please call or text Dad
"Hi mate, been watching news and hoping your'e both ok" Chris
" News here terrible. Do me a favour and call home" Angela
"Deb- Please call, travel agent and foreign office not telling us anything" Ben
" I'm telling your dad not to worry, but it would help if you could call us' Lauren
And they went on. It wasn't until we turned on CNN that we realised what all the messages were from. Whilst we were trekking in the jungle a massive earthquake and consequent tidal wave had hit South East Asia and had spread as far as Sri Lanka and the Maldives. When we first heard about it ten thousand were estimated to have been killed. Within days, these figures had risen to an astonishing one hundred and twenty five thousand deaths and then to a quarter of a million. These people were not just from Asia but were from the UK, USA, Scandinavia  Australia, Canada and all over the world. People who were backpackers, tourists staying in luxury hotels, waiters, beach hawkers, sailors killed by the biggest natural disaster in history. We stayed in Asia for ten days after the Tsunami. We donated to the Malaysian Relief fund and like everyone else in our resort remained slightly dumbstruck at the results that unfolded.
As each Boxing Day passes, I remember the tsunami that claimed the lives of so many, I remember the panic and relief of my dad when I spoke to him and remember those who never received that phone call. Eight years on, My dad still calls me every day at 8.15pm. Sometimes we speak for under a minute, sometimes we speak for five minutes. The general gist of the conversation (we generally don't have that much news) is are you OK? Are the boys Ok? Good, speak to you tomorrow. Sometimes it drives me crazy because I really don't have anything to tell him! But today of all days I'll be glad to get that call, knowing that for so many, today is the anniversary of the day that the phone call never came.

Friday 21 December 2012

Seasons greetings and all that Jazz



This is such an interesting and fabulous time of year. The end of what has been an amazing year to live in London, a year where I have finally got rid of nappies from our household, a year when I said goodbye to my trusty golf and got a car where I didn't need to consider the size of the boot, a year where there were more joyful events than sad events, a year where I became closer to forty than thirty and a year where there were no major earth shattering dramas, no hospitals, no heart attacks, no redundancies and no cancer.
But here we are having just celebrated Chanukah and having to deal with the complexities of being a Jewish parent in a secular and Christian world. For me, it's the only time of year where I seriously consider the merits of making Aliyah. 
I grew up in a very anti Christmas household. On Christmas Day, we didn't get dressed, ate cheese on toast for lunch, watch top of the pops and the Christmas BBC afternoon film ( which tended not to be a repeat in those days) When I got married I was introduced to an entirely different Christmas tradition, one that was to close to the bone for me. The family went out for dinner Christmas Eve where they donned party hats, ripped crackers and ate turkey. They hadn't seen each other since Rosh Hashannah so there was a lot to catch up on! It was generally a great night but too Christmassy for me. 
Over the past six years, the tradition has been to go to my dads. My cousins generally come and the kids get presents as my brother is down from the South West and hasn't seen them over Chanukah and my cousins and I and the kids generally swap presents too. We don't call them Christmas presents or Chanukah presents so what are they? We don't have a tree, or decorations or crackers. We don't eat turkey. So are we doing something wrong? To some maybe we are to some we're not. At the end of the day it's a bank holiday so is there a better time to get together and do what Jews do best? ( eat copious amounts)
My views on the festive season are mixed and confused, I like the Pogues, Band Aid and am annoyed by Mariah Carey. I like going to see the Christmas lights on Regent street and think the lights on some of our neighbourhood houses look great. However, I draw the line at decorating my own. It might have been the festival of lights for Jews but my version of that is having our four Chanukiyot lit and placed in the window rather than illuminating the neighbourhood, increasing my electricity bills and my carbon footprint.
As my kids have continued to prosper at school and we have got to know more families we have realised that everyone has their own tradition. Many Jewish families in our area have Christmas trees. Many families get Chanukah and Christmas presents. Many embrace the holiday season in American 'happy holidays style' . That's not for my family. We are British and Jewish and proud of who we are but Christmas is not our festival! We lit the Chanukah candles to recall the story of fighting for religious freedom and as I watch some of my Jewish friends and neighbours celebrate Chanukah and Christmas I am glad that they have the religious freedom to do so. The Maccabees might have considered them Hellenists but I think they are trying to do the best they can in the complexity that is the modern world and there is nothing wrong with that.
I intend to enjoy the holiday season... I want to reflect on the year that's gone and look forward to what is to come. I want to spend time with the three most important people in my life and just enjoy each other. I don't want or need tinsel, crackers or pine needles on the floor of my lounge, I only need more of what 2012 has bought me, good health, happiness and a large slice of religious freedom!

Sunday 2 December 2012

"Chanukah is, the Festival of Lights. Instead of one day of presents we have eight crazy nights" Adam Sandler, the Chanukah Song


Picture this... your kid come home from school and ask you when you are decorating the Christmas tree... or are asking whether Christmas and Chanukah are really that different. They have been writing their list of required gifts for several weeks. You are exhausted! How do you make sure that Chanukah is a week to remember and not eclipsed by the other 'C' festival a week or so later. Here is my guide to making Chanukah meaningful
1. Tell the tale
Do your kids know the story of Chanukah? Invest in a few books for your home. The story is an exciting one for kids, filled with epic battles and despair and hope and a happy ending. Great books to order are Maccabee by Tilda Balsley or All about Hanukkah by Judyth Groner (both available from Amazon). For older children you can use Hanukkah around the world (by Tami Lehman-Wilzig) to highlight different Chanukah traditions celebrated by different Jewish communities.

2. Energy Conservation
The relighting of the menorah by the victorious Maccabees provided the symbol of God’s existence in the Temple. We have an obligation to bring God into our everyday lives by caring for the world that God gave to us. One way to do this is by conserving energy at home. Make a list of eight different ways you can conserve energy at home. Give your kids a colouring sheet of a Chanukiah and each time they conserve energy they can colour in a candle. The goal is for every candle to be completely filled by the end of Chanukah. 

"Christmas brings enormous electric bills.  Candles are used for Hanukkah.  Not only are we spared enormous electric bills, but we get to feel good about not contributing to the energy crisis.  ~KOACH Humor, "Holiday Distinctions Finally Explained"
3. Make dinner
To remember the miracle of the oil, it’s traditional during Chanukah to eat fried foods. Many Jews fulfil this ritual by making latkes. Recipes are commonplace but the general idea is this: grate some potatoes and an onion. Beat an egg and add to the potato-onion mix. Add salt and pepper to taste, then form into patties. Even the smallest of children can participate by shaping the batter into patties and by adding the seasoning's.

4. Attend communal candle lighting
Many Jewish communities build large outdoor Chanukiah’s to fulfil the ritual that we should light our candles where they can be seen by everybody. Instead of lighting candles in your home, gather with members of the community to light candles together. Contact your nearest synagogue to find out about their communal lighting

5. Think of others
Reinforce the notion that Chanukah is not primarily about receiving gifts by setting aside one night during the holiday not to open any. Shop with your kids for toys they would enjoy, and have them deliver their purchases to a children’s charity. Camp SImcha run a wonderful project in the weeks leading up to Chanukah where you buy  an extra toy that is redistributed to a sick child and their family. (www.campsimcha.org.uk)

6. ‘Dreidal, dreidal, dreidal, I made it out of clay’

A dreidal is a four-sided spinning top with a Hebrew letter on each side. Outside of Israel, the letters stand for the phrase, “A great miracle happened there In Israel, the last word—which means “there”—is replaced with the Hebrew for “here,” Legend has it that the dreidal game was popular when Antiochus ruled. Jewish people, struggling to keep their faith alive, would gather together to study the Torah, which had been outlawed by Antiochus. They would keep the dreidal nearby so that if soldiers appeared, they could hide their books and pretend to play a game. “Dreidal” is derived from the German word “drehen,” or “turn.” The dreidal game is played by giving each player a number of tokens; you can use coins (chocolate or real!), raisins or counters. Before spinning the dreidal, each player puts a fixed number of their portion into the “kupah” or kitty. Each player in turn spins the dreidal. When the dreidal falls, the player acts according to the rules for each letter:

Nun—Do nothing, play proceeds to the next player.
Gimel—Take the whole kitty
Hey- Take half of the kitty
ShinPut some in; players agree on an amount before the game

Play dreidal as a family and try making up some of your own rules. For example, choose a fact about yourself or a family memory to share for each letter, such as something you like to do, a person you like and why, an animal you like and why, a place you like and why. Or, make up more active rules, such as running once around the table, hopping on one foot, spinning or rubbing your stomach while patting your head. You can raise the stakes as well:  Shin might mean you have to do the washing up, while gimel can mean you get to choose the destination for the next family day out.

7. Embrace diversity.
There is no greater time than while celebrating Chanukah in the midst of the Christmas season to reflect on ‘being a stranger in a strange land’ (Exodus 2.22) about being a ‘stranger in a strange land.’ But there are positive lessons to being part of a minority community. Invite non-Jewish friends or neighbours round for candle lighting one evening and share festive season experiences.

8. Appreciate the season
Try to avoid the stresses of the season: don’t expend too much worry about securing the must-have gifts or dividing equal rations of time amongst all the branches of the family tree. Instead, take a cue from your kids, who surely have been enthused by the joy and general merriment in the air. 

Chanukah, or any Jewish festival for that matter becomes a meaningful experience when you create positive memories and associations with it. Use the next week to create your own traditions and then enjoy a meaningful Chanukah. CHAG SAMEACH