Who is Miranda?

Bridges 2 Israel                                                                                Israel Ramble letters                                                        May 25 2012  In This Issue A story for Shavuot - Prague Miranda and me Lake kineret corner Young women dancing in a Shavuot bikurim ceremony 1951 - Kibbutz Giva'at Hayeem Meuhad Visit Our Sponsor A Shavuot parade in Kibbutz Yad Mordechai Photo: Rafi Plas Quick Links    Previous Israel Rambles letters  Quick Links  previous Israel Rambles Our Sponsors Our Synagogue You are invited to join services at our Synagogue any time  see details Cantor - Boaz Pnini Greetings,  Mysticism was always a part of Judaism and life. The story below is a true story. Written by Michal L. and translated by me. I read it few times. The last time I felt tinglings through my body, the kind that goes through your body when you realize something, maybe you will feel it too.   Next week in Jerusalem..    I am going to be in Israel from May 29 to June 15 mostly to meet my family and have some rest in the peacefulness of the beautiful north, AKA Galilee.     Enjoy the holiday of Shavuot,   Boaz Pnini,  Bridges 2 Israel  A story for Shavuot - Prague / by Michal L. Mandala by Tal Rinkov "You in your mercy have led forth the people whom you have redeemed: you have guided them in your strength unto your holy habitation." Exodus 15:13 "Where are you from"? I turn my head and see a bearded Jew, wearing black standing in front of me. Across the glazing spectacles I see green smiling eyes. Where did he appear from? Just a second ago my face was turned towards the place he is standing now and no living soul was seen there.  Friday afternoon in the Jewish quarter of Prague. The Shabbat sacredness is approaching. I have just been to an exciting tour of the synagogue, the cemetery, at the Maharal grave and other established Jewish institutions.  The streets stood forlorn in their emptiness, it seemed; I was the only one walking amongst them, searching for the sound of the Golem. I was looking for Shukie, my friend and ally who joined me for the trip. His likeness as well could not be found anywhere.  I went into a plush Jewish restaurant, its space long and continuous and marching through it was sort of a path into a Jewish soul. There too I could not find Shukie.  I went outside, turned my face to my right and my left - empty. Not a living soul. And then, as if from nowhere, he appeared - emerging in front of my astonished face and his language is my language.  "From Israel" I answered being surprised. He laughed, "I have already understood that... I meant where from in Israel?" What does it mean you have already understood that, I am thinking to myself, you have not been here a fraction of a second ago, you have not exchanged a word with me and you understood?  "From the Negev from Nitzanah". A'ahah, yes yes, I know".. I am in a perpetual doubt saying again: "Nitzanah near Egypt, not Nitzaneem near Ashkelon". "Yes, Yes clearly" he replies and his face all light and smiles. Lord of the universe, what is so clear to you... I am looking at him stunned thinking, what's now? And I hope Shukie deigns to appear out of this quiet wilderness. And the bearded one continues, "I would like to tell you something, I am not sure I am allowed to, that it is OK"... "allowed allowed"... let him already say, what can he say anyway... "Please" I am saying. "You have to let go, you have to leave this place, they do not understand you, this is not your place - you have done your share". My feet are glued to the pavement. "What"? I am echoing weakly.. "Yes, I am seeing everything, all this sorrow over your shoulders - they do not understand you and letting you bear it all alone. You need to go, leave this place"... He is examining me, how am I receiving his words. Shukie, Shukie, Shukie.... appear, appear, appear.. and he appears across the road, emerging from one of the buildings and approaching me. Shukie was born in Mea'a Shea'arim to a Haredi family, is similar in look and attire to the greened eye bearded man laughing in front of me. At 7 years old he announced publicly that this kind of life, he is not intending on living and renounced any kind of obligation.  He suffered belts at the hands of his own father, his forbear and hugs from his Haredi grandpa, who was wondrously tolerant. Since then and until now his fondness of bearded rabbis, dressed in black and wearing cylinder hats was doubtful. And so is the respect he has for them. "Come rescue me from him" I am calling to him... "He is telling me things as if he knows me. Take the Rabbi away from here" And the Rabbi is laughing, extending his hand towards Shukie for a warm and friendly handshake. Without realizing it, Shukie is captivated by his charm and they start blubbering about the Jerusalemite neighborhoods, about colorful characters... what is going on here?  Maybe we should go into the restaurant and drink a cup of wine before Shabbat enters, suggests the honorable rabbi. And we turn around and enter into the Jewish restaurant and once again walking along its long and narrow path. The 3 of us are sitting leisurely in front of a knights' table. The waiter is serving 3 cups of red wine.  I sat down frozen in my place. Feeling how I am raising an energetic wall between me and the world. Between me and the hidden seeing eyes of the mysterious man who is talking to me and about me as if he had already knew me. And all his words are truth and all his heart sees - is so! And now he turns towards me. "I would like to try something with you". "Please", I am saying frightened and surprisingly he extends his two hands towards me and is asking me to hold them...  I do not understand how this is possible; this is breaking all the laws. "Are you sure?" I am asking. "Sure sure", he is laughing, "all the burdensome laws are designed for he who has no wisdom in his head and is not discerning between important and unimportant". I extended my hands and he held them softly and warmly...nothing. He is raising his eyes and again - nothing happens. He is gathering his hands into his laps and declares: "It is not working. You are shutting down out of fear and fright, let's try another thing".  Shukie is looking stunned and is quiet. I am looking at him trying to hold into an island of stability.. let him say something.. and he is hypnotized just as I am; so surrealistic. Two doubters on a Shabbat evening at the Jewish quarter of Prague and a green eye Rabbi covered in black who appeared from nowhere...  And the Rabbi is asking: "Look into my eyes" and he gently takes off his glasses and I, obedient and polite, raising my eyes and boom, I am swept into the whirlpool of his eyes, meandering tunnels.  I am sensing the limbs of my body being planted deep into the seat, my legs feeling heavier by tens of kilograms are binding to the floor, the blood is draining from my hands which are drooping on the sides of my body like tree logs lacking grace and movement.  And my gaze and face are deeply deeply buried somewhere in the journey inside the stranger green eyes. I am hearing a mix of sounds but understand no word. Something gigantic and greater than me is navigating.  Suddenly I notice the face and eyes disappear at once from the range of my scrutinizing eyes. The blood flow returns to my hands, the legs are back to their normal weight, and only the soul... the inner soul suddenly felt joy, light and airy as it has not been for years.  The rabbi smiled and got up to go. "it seemed to me I helped you and Shabbat is almost here and I would like to go back to my hotel"... and he pulls out a card with the hotel  name and address, showing it to Shukie and to me and invites us to come have a conversation with him during the Shabbat.  Still stunned from what occurred my words remained sequestered in the brain, he turns back to me saying "I will go, unless you will ask me otherwise".  And I innocently think: Shabbat is almost here and only matters of life and death supersede the Shabbat...what does he see in me...what does he try rescuing me from? Me? Life and death? And the words are coming out:"No thanks no need, all is well. Blessed are thou in your coming and blessed are thou in your leaving. Go in peace and Shabbbat Shalom".  And he almost turns to leave and suddenly I am saying, "you know what, we'll accompany you". Shukie asks for the check and we are about to leave.  As we still standing by our table, the Rabbi extends his hand as a cap above Shukie's head and blesses him and he turns to me smiling - "indeed I helped".  "you have helped" I find myself saying back to him. "I don't know what and how, but you have helped" if you would have allow it I would even give you a hug... To my surprise he spread his two hands to the sides and invites me into their embrace and I yield to a fatherly and warm hug, devoid of any pretense other than a sincere desire to calm down... to calm down all I knew is in me that is so needing to be calmed.  And again we are on our way through the long elongated restaurant hallway, three different people but not so much strangers any longer.  And one last step before we reach the door, we are turning towards the Jewish restaurant owner to say our thanks and bless him with Shabbat Shalom... a deed of few brief seconds... and again we turn to leave and...Where is he? Where to had he disappeared?  The man dressed in black, with the twinkling eyes, the bearded one? The sensitive clairvoyant man vanished in a split of a second into the approaching Shabbat, just as he appeared. Leaving us stunned and thrilled and embellished with question marks...  We harried to open the computer looking for the hotel... at least the hotel... something to hung on to... there was none.  Soon is the holiday of Shavuot, a holiday connected in our collective memory to an unforgettable audiovisual event.. to the epiphany of Mount Sinai,  an epiphany that apparently was intended to teach us one or two things about faith. I received this story from Michal through a mutual friend, it is a true story.    Boaz Pnini Miranda and me Photo by Miranda Photo by Miranda   I had never told anyone what I really did in the army and that is not going to change now, Which reminds me the following Israeli joke or urban legend.  Someone is approaching Ben Gurion asking him to share with him some secret information. Ben Gurion replies in a hushed tone: "Do you know how to keep a secret?" to which the person eagerly replies "Yes, I do", "so do I" says Ben Gurion.  Growing up in the Kibbutz the possibility of prevarication or 2 faced was completely unknown, it was a skill we did not learn, how can you say one thing and mean something else?! it was inconceivable, at least to my young mind. Only later in life I discovered people often bend the truth and often for a good reason like not wanting to hurt someone.  When I was one year in the army I served in an army base near Herzeliah. What I really wanted was to have a reflex camera, not a regular camera with a viewfinder that show you different image than the one the camera actually sees, but a real reflex camera, that shows you exactly what it sees. Her name was Miranda. I worked for her consistently, shekel by shekel, or rather lira by lira, 2000 liras were way beyond my reach at that time.  I belonged to the army, I did not need anything that was not provided.  I only received a bit more than 100 liras a months to buy things in the army canteen and the like. So what was I to do? I started obsessively collecting empty bottles to be redeemed for cash at the army base canteen. That was a start but only half of the needed 2000 liras.  Then in my desperation I went to the person responsible for the small stipends we received monthly from the Kibbutz to compliment our meager army pocket money. I had to convince him to give me 10 months of it in advanced so I can purchase my dream camera, Miranda, that was her name. The real top brands prices where way beyond my budget at the time. I remember holding this huge sum of money in an envelop, I have never held so much cash in my life, it was scary.  Miranda and I had many adventures together trying to capture reality through her lenses was an on going marvel, lately I discovered that my parents kept some of these photos devotedly over more than 30 years. I also recently discovered that my dad kept my Bar Mitzvah tape from 42 years ago, I never knew it even existed. Listening to it few weeks ago was like a tunnel in time, hearing my young voice again, feeling I am him and also much more, what an experience!  Chag Sameah  Happy Holiday,  Boaz Pnini  Bridges 2 Israel founder Lake kineret corner   The kineret level started going down, about 1 centimeter a week. It is still 1 meter above last year pick level. Every centimeter represent 1.7 million cubic meter of water. The weather is still pleasant in Israel, around 70 or 80 Fahrenheit.  Please feel free to forward  Israel Ramble letters to your friends and family and anyone who may be interested. You may use the FORWARD link below. Thanks, Boaz Pnini, Bridges 2 Israel LLC

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My big bang

Bridges 2 Israel                                                                              Israel Ramble letters                                                              May 16 2012  In This Issue My Big Bang Lake kineret corner My nephew  Tal, now is climbing "my trees" in the Kibbutz Visit Our Sponsor My nehpews and children in the Kibbutz saying hello, probably to you Quick Links    Previous Israel Rambles letters  Quick Links  previous Israel Rambles Our Sponsors Our Synagogue You are invited to join services at our Synagogue any time  see details Cantor - Boaz Pnini Greetings,  The purpose of these Israel Ramble letters is to spread "good vibes" about Israel so why not spreading it around?!  By the way, not all of my English mistakes are genuine mistakes, some I leave intentionally to preserve the Hebrew essence of a Hebrew idiom even though I suspect it is not a "real English". My editors refuse to correct them as well, so you get it row, just as intended.     Enjoy,  Boaz Pnini,  Bridges 2 Israel My Big Bang You can get a taste of what army training was like. Scroll down and bare with the Hebrew Photo: Dalit Shaham  I found my boulder and start shooting at an imaginary enemy on the hill in front of us. Then there was a big boom, I dropped my weapon and held my ears, they were full of loud ringing like the sound of a train's horn. On the next few hours and months it grew quieter. I had to decide that life was worth living anyway, it was not easy at first, but I decided I do want to even though the annoying ringing in my right ear would probably never go away. Luckily we have a brain that ignores unimportant messages, and mine learned how to ignore it most of the time.  A minute before this big boom changed my life forever we were 8 or 9 young soldiers crowded into our nagmash, an armored vehicle, waiting for the order to attack. It was a simulation of a battle and a part of our officer training. We were supposed to conquer the hill in front of us. The rustling, whistling and movement of the nagmash, the sleep deprivation, the darken interior probably lilted me into dosing. When the order "attack" was given I was still trying to get my bearings as we all run out from the darkness of the interior to the bright sun, looking for cover and shooting positions behind large boulders.  Our Kibbutz life was in a way a constant reminder that one day we are going to join the army and do our duty. It was always in the background. The knowledge that we have a country and it needs defending, and when our turn comes to fulfill this duty we would obviously obey this ingrained knowledge, that we have it to do, there is no other way.   The first 6 months of my army training I was in basic training, eating highly suspicious food prepared by who knows whom. What kind of a person would join the army to become an army chef at age 18?! It was suspicious, the army chefs were considers a lower cast, the "jobniks" we called them, those people who join the army but do not really serve, just doing a menial job of some sort. We were the fighters, the real thing. I became a jobnick myself later, but that is another story.  Army food is the theme of many jokes, you come to the army base dining room and the soldier in charge asks you: "would you like a fresh bread, baked today?" To which you eagerly reply "YES" (being that in the army you never get fresh bread), and the soldier replies: "Come tomorrow then"  Basic training was challenging to say the least. We were about 240 soldiers, 60 soldiers in each of the 4 barracks, people you have never met before and now they supposed to be your army buddies. You sleep on bunks bed. I had the "luck" of sharing the same bunk bed with a large body kleptomaniac slob. Things would disappear, and although we knew quite well who the culprit probably was, we could not prove a thing. Each one of us came from such a different background.  The first thing that vanished from my large army duffle bug was my cherished electrical shaver. There is no much you can do about it. You just had to go to the base canteen and buy cheap shaving blades; I had never used this kind before.  Everything was routinely inspected by our superiors, our commanders, who happened to be few months older than we were, but being in the army that much longer turns you into a completely different character.  Inspection is a daily routine, including the way you are shaved. Is your gun clean enough? Does it have "elephants" (small dust particles) in its barrel? Are your blankets appropriately folded in an army way? Is your army uniform properly ironed? Does your army hat placed properly over your head? Your bed made the right way? It was an endless minute details discipline, day in and day out, after all who would like to stay over in the base, because of some ambiguous infringement. When Friday comes and everyone changes to the more fancy formal uniforms to go back home, back into the warm of family and civil life, would you like to be the one who stayed behind to guard the base maybe? Oh no, that would be the end of all hopes, a total separation from normal life for another 3 weeks perhaps, the ultimate punishment and banishment.  In basic training you are always pushed or pushing yourself against your physical limits. Running, fulfilling orders, cleaning, studying weapons, practicing assembling and disassembling your gun as fast as possible, shooting practice, marching drills, running around the block because your weapon was not clean enough or just because.., going down for a specified number of pushups, there was something in our young bodies and spirits that loved the challenge even though  it had been demeaning at times, but the feeling of "I have made it" and "nothing is too difficult for this young fit body", was thrilling at times.  I remember pushing myself to the end of my endurance many times, feeling I could prevail, I can climb this hill, fully loaded, and conquer an imaginary enemy, not a bad deal for adrenaline filled 18 years old motivated boy.  Carrying a mock wounded soldier on a stretcher we would fall asleep on long sleepless endless army walks on moonless dark nights, exhausted as we all were, all we had to do was the next step, and then the next and then the next. Numbness would come to the heart sometimes on these endless trainings, jumping, running, marching, climbing, attacking, studying and fighting sleep listening to long boring lectures . In 6 months we became soldiers ready to fight. Thank God I had never had to actually fight in a real battle.  All in all serving in the army is an empowering experience. You have given your share to the greater effort of protecting the land, you have been counted. You have done something for the greater good.  Boaz Pnini  Bridges 2 Israel founder PS. Please do not think I glorify war. War is one of the most disgusting, atrocious and terrible thing we can inflict upon each other. I totally abhor war. I wish all wars to end now and forever. Lake kineret corner   The level of water in lake kineret is still stable at 168 centimeters above the red line.     If the water level stays that high long enough it means it will probably stay above the red line until next winter, which means better water quality, which means we can be relaxed (about the water situation in Israel) for one more year, which means we can be relaxed about life in general, which means... all will be well, we can drink and smile..     You can say the Kineret is like the well, or the heart. When it is full, all is well. Without water there is no life, but with water fields can be irrigated, we can drink, the flowers are brighter, life prospects look brighter, the birds are happier, the trees have to struggle less, the rivers have more flow, and the kineret does not feel so low. Please feel free to forward  Israel Ramble letters to your friends and family and anyone who may be interested. You may use the FORWARD link below. Thanks, Boaz Pnini, Bridges 2 Israel LLC

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A story you do not want to miss

Bridges 2 Israel                                                                               Israel Ramble letters                                                                   May 18 2012  In This Issue Free at last, a story from Ma'ayan Lake kineret corner Article Headline A recent photo of the B'ahi temple in Haifa by Cathy Maier Callanan Visit Our Sponsor Photo by Cathy Maier Callanan Quick Links  Previous Israel Rambles letters  Quick Links  previous Israel Rambles Our Sponsors Our Synagogue You are invited to join services at our Synagogue any time  see details Cantor - Boaz Pnini Greetings,  Life is a story. Your life is a story, a story of many stories. My life is a story. Every person we meet is a story of many lives. We can revisit our life stories and tell ourselves new stories about them and thus change the meaning of them to mean something better.   Our nation and people is a story of thousands' of years which we keep telling and pass on. We add, change and subtract to make it a more refined story, a story we can be proud of, a story we helped created. That does not mean we change the facts, only that we connect the dotes in a new way.  This story below, Written by a Israeli friend and translated by me, you do not want to miss, it touched me so much as I translated it from the Hebrew I cannot imagine it will not touch you,   Enjoy,  Boaz Pnini,  Bridges 2 Israel Free at last Ma'ayan  Passover evening, I am driving to Kibbutz Gonen to celebrate the Seder together with my sister and her family who came for a vacation in the north. My children went few hours earlier to Jerusalem to be with their father's family. .  From the moment I enter the car my wings are quivering.. I had always celebrated my life transitional moments by riding my car.  Spring songs are being played on the radio and right before my eyes an intoxicating colorful party, the Chrysanthemums yellow is turning into bright patches of pink, purple and green, after which ever more carpets of wild colorfulness.     Dancing through the open window, a warm wind is caressing my skin, carrying with her aromas of perfumed blossoms. The road is expanding in front of me wide and long.  And something in me sings. I clearly remember, here on the very same road, I have traveled exactly a year ago. Sadness was lapping my shores constantly at the time, most of the time I felt as a tree disconnected from the root, as if a large cold scissors cut all my connections in one slash.  I yearned desperately to return home, to feel connected again, but whatever I tried made no difference. Three years after my 20 years marriage came to an end I was still "alone", without the love of being a married couple, and inside me a sense of a huge missing part grew ever deeper, I felt that until I find this kind of love I will never find joy.  When I was 23 a sentence, with its words I fell in love then, hanged above my bed. A sentence my spiritual teacher used to say "You are never alone and simply will never will be"  When in captivity, it is hard to believe a sentence like this for long, and I, for a time that now seems like eternity, was in captivity. My wings were folded and the darkness all around made me forget the sunlit world waiting outside.  One day something had occurred.. I raised my eyes to look at my own personal warden and suddenly I knew who he was. At the very same moment I knew that as soon as I call his name he will vanish and I will be able to be free. I knew and yet hesitated.. I had never excelled in departures, even from wardens.  But deep inside I have begun digging my freedom tunnel. Whenever my warden arrived, I looked straight in his eyes and studied him more and more. And one day it had happened. He stood in front of me and I suddenly  understood he has no power over me. "I know who you are", I told him quietly, "I also know how you snuck in and kidnapped me to this place" and then I called him by his name and exactly like in  the renown legend of theMiller's daughter and the demon, I saw how my frightening warden evaporates instantly leaving behind him a small pile of ashes, the heavy iron door of my prison had opened and I was free.. Outside a whole world awaited me, bustling with life and sunlit.. It is still there and it is wonderful, so hugging and pleasurable. To captivity I am not coming back.. I choose freedom.  More and more I understand that my warden was - a story. Yes, a story. An enticing story which was told long before I was born, again and again across history, across the culture of our time, a story etched on my skin, flowed in my blood, which I heard since being a child, which spoke to my romantic soul. I so believed in it that I approached it carelessly, letting it warping me in its binding web.  Now I am opening other of the car's windows letting the good wind carried with her the remnants of the web.. my two wings are quivering with joy, spreading widely towards life and life is flowing into me with the rush of a river whose heavy stones had been removed from its path.  In front of me cars are passing by.. families and more families, Passover is a family holiday. In a moment I will too meet my sister and her dear family, soon we too are going to be warped by love. Yes, I am still a great believer in love. Only that nowadays I know it has many faces, I meet her everywhere, in every human I meet, in every smile of a round-cheeked baby, in every couple who chooses to celebrate their love with me, in every moment with my soul-beloved people, in every intoxicating colorful party of spring.. God had planted around us so many seeds of love, joy and happiness. Today I know for sure that love had never intended for us to be imprisoned in her name in a small darkened cell.  Right was my dear teacher, I am never alone and I shall never really be alone  Ma'ayan Ben Aryeh  click here to visit her Hebrew website  Ma'ayan is a story teller and guiding empowerment meetings  for individuals, couples and  groups in Israel Lake kineret corner The level of water in lake kineret is still stable at 168 centimeters above the red line.   If the water level stays that high long enough it means it will probably stay above the red line until next winter, which means better water quality, which means we can be relaxed (about the water situation in Israel) for one more year, which means we can be relaxed about life in general, which means... all will be well, we can drink and smile..   You can say the Kineret is like the well, or the heart. When it is full, all is well. Without water there is no life, but with water fields can be irrigated, we can drink, the flowers are brighter, life prospects look brighter, the birds are happier, the trees have to struggle less, the rivers have more flow, and the kineret does not feel so low. Something to think about  After Iran and Pakistan Israel is the most hated country in the world according to a recent survey by the BBC. Which may only means that the 3rd most urgent problem in the world is ignorance. We live in a time when information is totally available and yet not wanted. If someone hate Israel I would ask them..  have you been to Israel ?  have you ever spoke to a Israeli? Have you ever look Israel or Jerusalem on Wikipedia? Simple things.  Problem is more and more people prefer emotional reactivity over facts. I will ask similar questions to someone who hate Arabs or any other grouping and I did. The answer in essence is often "do not mess up my feelings with facts".   This is one more reason to spread Israel Ramble letters, not that it is educational about the facts, but I hope it will prompt people to look for the information. Therefore.. do not hesitate to forward these Rambles to your friends and enemies alike.  Boaz Pnini  Bridges 2 Israel Please feel free to forward  Israel Ramble letters to your friends and family and anyone who may be interested. You may use the FORWARD link below. Thanks, Boaz Pnini, Bridges 2 Israel LLC

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