COVID – Page 3

Faux freedom fighters

Last week, a cluster of protesters, including at least two medical doctors, demonstrated on the lawn of the B.C. Legislature, reciting the now-boring litany of justifications for putting others at risk by refusing to be vaccinated against the coronavirus.

Griping from anti-vaxxers has become routine online and, for the most unfortunate among us, in family discussions and among friends. Invoking high ideals of freedom and dredging up quotes from great people in history to reinforce their narrative, many anti-vaxxers claim victimhood, driven either by ignorance of science or obstinacy.

What happened at the legislature last week was more galling than other such incidents, however. On a spectrum from the fairly innocuous act of an individual making ignorant remarks on social media to the atrocious behaviour of impeding emergency vehicles and making a ruckus outside hospitals, this one fell somewhere in the middle.

The demonstration was organized by Common Ground, a free distribution magazine originally focused on natural health and wellness but which has lately gone down conspiracy rabbit holes. The most recent issue warns: “Parents – Protect your children.” The sage advice on how to protect your kids includes rejecting the advice of every legitimate medical professional in North America.

There is also a rambling, full-page open letter to B.C. Attorney-General David Eby from anti-gay activist Kari Simpson, who runs a group called Culture Guard, which seems determined to guard a culture that most of us would prefer to see vanish. A centrefold of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, along with multiple calls for the preservation of free speech, position conspiracy theorists as downtrodden voices of reason and goodness pluckily standing up to tyranny.

And here is where the Common Ground crowd goes particularly off course. The demonstration was specifically linked to the 75th anniversary of the Nuremberg trials. The unsubtle messages at the protest were that modern medical experts and those who follow their advice are ideological descendants of the Nazis and those who refuse the vaccines are defenceless voices of righteousness and reason, equivalent to the victims of the Holocaust.

The demonstrators hanged in effigy Health Minister Adrian Dix, Solicitor General and Public Safety Minister Mike Farnworth and Premier John Horgan. The effigies were a nod to the fact that, as a result of the Nuremberg trials, nine Nazi doctors were hanged for their participation in medical experimentation and other atrocities. Common Ground is, and the protest was, rife with assertions that the vaccines are a form of human medical experimentation. As one doctor who addressed the crowd said, the anti-coronavirus vaccines are “the most dangerous injection in the history of vaccination.” Uh-huh.

The invocation of the Holocaust and Nazism has been a pandemic within a pandemic. People have donned yellow stars to portray their perceived victimization and have shamelessly exploited the language and imagery of that epoch.

In an era when cultural appropriation is a cancelable offence, it seems Jewish history remains the ethical equivalent of public domain. Note that the grievous historical experiences of other peoples with traumatic histories are rarely, if ever, trotted out in quite this way.

If privileged, sanctimonious North Americans wanted to find a reason for justifiable indignation, they wouldn’t have to pick at the scabs of Jewish trauma. They could look at the real tragedy and injustice in the world today: global inequality in vaccination status. While many Canadians now expect a third dose, there are 1.4 billion people in Africa and only 7.8% are double-vaxxed.

But why focus on genuine, contemporary atrocities when one can play a victim in the crudest historical reenactment of the Holocaust and, somehow, incredibly, face the mirror and see a freedom fighter?

A little magic is important

Imagine facing a drought. Approximately 2,000 years ago, the rabbis in the Babylonian Talmud felt that calling for a fast day might alleviate it. In the talmudic tractate of Taanit, the main issue is that of when, why and how a fast day could be called. Yet, also in Taanit, we’re introduced to Honi HaMe’aggel, or Honi, “the circle maker.” There’s some indication that means he could have been a roofer, as this was a tool they used, but, in this tractate, Honi is like a miracle maker.

When Honi is called on by his community to pray for rain, he doesn’t fast. He draws a circle on the ground, stands within it, and says he will not move until it rains. He has some stops and starts. At first, the rain is very light and then, when he prays for more rain, it becomes too heavy. He creates what amounts to a flood, because, previously, the talmudic rabbis have suggested one should never pray to stop the rain. That is, when it’s raining, we are to be grateful, even if it’s too much rain.

The rabbis describe Honi as someone who is like a kid bargaining with and demanding things from his father – but his father is G-d. This infuriates the rabbis, but, at the same time, they are grateful for the rain. In Taanit, page 19a, Shimon ben Shetah, head of the Sanhedrin (rabbinic court) says: “Were it not Honi, I would have decreed that you be ostracized, but what can I do to you?”

Call it what you will, Honi’s magic or miracles or unconventional approach worked. Maybe it was too much rain, but he made it happen. His technique didn’t require formal schedules for fasting or abstaining from work or sex. He was willing to talk directly to the most powerful presence and demand results. He talked turkey and worked outside the system.

Even today, there are lots of parallels to this. Maybe the Sanhedrin’s rabbis don’t rule our world, but our politicians and government infrastructure do. Maybe, too, there are “miracle makers” who work outside of the normal routines in our midst. The rabbis’ approach to things was very rule-bound, but they left room for the fact that we’re human and that, sometimes, other approaches might work.

I recently was invited to an outdoor neighbourhood get-together. My partner wanted to nix it at first as it went without saying that every gathering is risky these days due to COVID. Yet, everyone kept the rules and safety in mind from the first. The organizers scanned everyone’s vaccination status – open to vaccinated people and their kids only. The party was outside. Masks and social distancing were required.

This was our first in-person party since March 2020 and I felt apprehensive. Oddly, the entire encounter reminded me of the rabbis’ need for order and Honi the Circle Maker. Most, if not all, of those attending the gathering lived in houses built long ago and the conversations in many cases revolved around old home repair and refurbishment.

As I kept track of my twins, who played in the snow, climbed into a tree house, checked out the river bank, chased a dog and checked out fire pits, I eased into and out of conversations where I heard so much about how we can informally help each other out. Offers of tools, assistance on projects or just commiserating about weird past renovation discoveries floated through the air. I also heard people sharing stories about loved ones, catching up, and meeting new babies.

Honi worked under adverse weather conditions. It was a drought, and then it was a flood, and he still stood in that self-made circle. It’s not an exaggeration to say that a safe COVID-era get-together in December in Winnipeg is also not ideal. It was -8°C when we arrived at the party, -11°C when we left two hours later. A front came through, so the winds meant it felt colder. We were bundled up and still enjoyed ourselves. That said, I won’t lie, I couldn’t feel my toes and my husband slipped on ice on our way back to our car. We were extremely grateful to go home and enjoy central heat as the temperature dropped below -20°C and the wind chill fell to -32°C. Our kids fell into bed with exhaustion that night.

Rabbis (and neighbours) know that magic can be made sometimes by people who aren’t completely paralyzed by the rules but use them to make change. We broke our “long fast” when it came to parties and joined together with others for a social event. It felt just like when it rains and breaks a drought.

As we well know, sometimes it’s way too much rain or too much unpredictability. I wouldn’t want to always rely on Honi for rainfall or on pop-up neighbourhood gatherings to fix all our socializing or old house repair needs. However, there’s something rich and meaningful in those snippets and exchanges. There’s a bit of hope, magic and discovery as we make connections in person, with people who share our interests.

The rabbis marked victories, milestones, holidays, weather and lifecycle events with prescribed rituals that took lots of preparation and work. To some extent, this saved Judaism after the fall of the Temple and made it work for thousands of years. Meanwhile, they lived in a time when magic, soothsayers, idols and false prophets existed, too. Our lives dangle somewhere in between. There was magic in that first social gathering, the friendliness and possibility. It accompanied the knowledge that the people at that party, who choose these older Victorian or Craftsman homes, are comrades in a way. They physically do a lot of the hard restoration work, too.

As we dangle between 2021 and 2022, here’s hoping that your secular new year is both one of safety within the rules and a bit of magic, too.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Comfort food for dark times

If the thought of cooking one more boring meal is just too daunting, Google your heart out – there are gazillions of cookbooks out there.

The days are short and dark and all I seem to want to do right now is stuff my face with comfort food. Some days that manifests as peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and some days it looks like pot roast and mashed potatoes. I rarely crave a salad or a stick of celery in this chilly, wet weather. Mind you, I have been tempted (and given into) a huge piece of pumpkin pie. That’s a daily serving of vegetables, right? I’m all about the carbs at the moment. Plus, peanut butter makes my coat nice and shiny. Or so says hubby Harvey.

Like a bear, I’m looking to bulk up for my winter hibernation. Although, when you think about it, we’ve been living through almost a two-year hibernation. It’s called COVID-19. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t found some comfort in over-indulging during this pandemic. Whether the target of our ill-placed attention is food, booze or online shopping, we’ve all been guilty of overdoing it in some way or other. Oh, I forgot to include Netflix, Prime Video and Crave. I do crave my Crave. I don’t know how many hours of my life I’ve given over to this pap. Not that I’m bragging. Actually, I’m kind of embarrassed by it, but, in a way, it’s keeping me sane because it lets me focus on something other than COVID. But enough about the C-word.

My guilty pleasure is doughy, savoury foods, packed with calories. That’s where the Perogy Toss comes in. I got this recipe decades ago from the catering company at Richmond City Hall’s cafeteria, where I often ate lunch during my working days. The recipe is still a winner. Add a salad and you’ve got dinner. Add a glass or two of wine and you’ve got a date.

PEROGY TOSS

1-kg package frozen potato perogies
4 tbsp sundried tomato oil (or olive oil)
3/4 cup minced onion
1 tbsp minced garlic
2 tbsp minced black olives
12 tbsp (3/4 cup) minced and drained sundried tomatoes
4 tbsp minced capers
1 1/2-oz (14-gram) package fresh basil, chopped
light sour cream

Boil salted water in a large pot. Add frozen perogies and boil for four to five minutes (or whatever the directions say). Drain well. Rinse with hot water and drain again. Return perogies to the pot.

In a frying pan, heat the sundried tomato oil (or olive oil) until hot. Add onion and garlic and sauté until onion is soft and golden. Add olives, sundried tomatoes and capers. Stir.

When heated through, add to the cooked perogies in the pot. Heat on low for about one minute, tossing to fully coat the perogies. Add the basil and serve at once. Put sour cream on top, if desired – and who wouldn’t desire that?

Just in case this recipe doesn’t give you your year’s allotment of salt, here’s another one that will not only satisfy your craving for savoury, but holds its own as an appetizer served with pita or crackers. Some of you might be put off by the weird orange shade of this dip, but I’m sure you’ll get past that. If you’re a lazy cook like me, you’ll be happy to know that the only kitchen appliance you’ll need is a food processor.

RED PEPPER & FETA DIP

3 red bell peppers
6 oz feta cheese
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp pine nuts

Cut in half and seed three red bell peppers. Place on a broiling pan, skin side up, and broil until skin is charred and blistered, turning over several times. This is what creates that smoky flavour.

Remove the skin from the peppers – some say sealing them in a brown paper bag while they’re cooling for five to 10 minutes creates steam and makes them easier to peel.

Once peeled, put the peppers in a food processor and add the feta cheese, olive oil and pine nuts. Blend till it’s nice and smooth.

Chill before serving. (I mean the dip, but you could also chill yourself with a glass or two of your favourite alcoholic beverage and a bag of chips.)

Serve with pita wedges or crackers. And don’t even think of substituting a different kind of nut. It’s just wrong. It’s got to be pine nuts.

I’ve made this dip for company loads of times and everyone likes it. It’s one of those go-to, quick-as-can-be appies that’s pretty much foolproof. Of course, your guests have to have a taste for feta cheese and pine nuts, but don’t most of us? (Maybe have an EpiPen ready just in case.) It’s definitely got a bit of an unusual flavour, but in a good way. It’s worth a try, if only to expand your repertoire … says the woman who ate the same California roll and agedashi tofu three or four times a week when she was single. However, I’ve since seen the error of my ways.

As you can tell, I’m all about the easy. And, if it tastes good too, score a win. I’ve never been one to fuss about food because it all gets eaten in a matter of minutes anyway, so why bother? I know, I know. What kind of an attitude is that for an accidental balabusta? But, like Popeye said, “I yam what I yam.”

As time wears on with this pandemic, I’m going to need to get more creative with my culinary adventures. I’ve fallen into the chicken, fish, meat, repeat, habit, and it’s getting old. I sure miss going out to restaurants on a regular basis. With the majority of us Canadians being doubly vaccinated, I think we’re moving in the right direction with this pandemic and, hopefully, it won’t be long before we embark on our “new normal.” G-d-willing, it will be an even better, more beautiful “normal.”

In the meantime, if the thought of cooking one more boring meal is just too daunting, get out your mother’s 1970s National Council of Jewish Women cookbook, Google your heart out or visit a bookstore near you, and tackle some new recipes. You might just discover your new favourites. Or maybe try a recipe swap with your close friends. You never know what tricks they might have up their sleeves. Caveat: choose friends whose culinary realm most resembles yours; otherwise, you may find yourself spending hours in the kitchen making some exotic breakfast, when all you really wanted was a new recipe for French toast.

Wishing you well in your hibernation. Don’t forget to turn the heat down, suspend newspaper delivery and stock up on toilet paper. I know, I know – newspaper? (Present company excepted, of course, and the JI is taking the month off, as well.)

Shelley Civkin aka the Accidental Balabusta is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

נסיעה לישראל בעידן הקוביד חלק ב

הכנסות לנסיעות בימים אלה הרבה יותר מסובכות בגלל תקנות הקוביד, השונות בין מדינה למדינה. אני טסתי ברחבי העולם פעמים רבות אך הפעם הטיסה לישראל ובחזרה עם עצירת ביניים באירופה מורכבת מאוד.

נדרשתי להקדיש מספר לא מבוטל של ימים ללמוד את הנושא, ובעיקר להתייעץ עם אחרים שכבר טסו לישראל, בעיקר מקנדה. ניסיונם חשוב לי מאוד כיוון שלא לא היה מושג בנושא, עד שפתחתי בהכנות לנסיעה בדצמבר. אני מתחיל עם ישראל לבקר את אמי ומשם ממשיך לגרמניה והולנד, כאשר מספר הנדבקים בשתי מדינות אלה גדל בימים האחרונים.

מזה חודשים ארוכים אני מתכנן את הנסיעה לישראל ונאלצתי לדחותה בגלל המגבלות השונות. הפעם אני מקווה התכנון יצא אל הפועל ואנחת בישראל בראשית דצמבר. הפעם בניגוד לביקורים קודמים שלי בתל אביב, אני מתכנן להקצות את מרבית זמני להיום עם אמי.

בשלב ראשון הבנתי שעלי לעבור ארבע בדיקות קוביד בנסיעה זו. הראשונה כאן בוונקובר עד שבעים ושתיים שעות לפני ההמראה, השנייה מיד עם הנחיתה בנמל התעופה בן גוריון, השלישית בתל אביב עד שבעים ושתיים שעות לפני ההמראה לאירופה, והרביעית באמסטרדם שבעים ושתיים שעות לפני ההמראה בחזרה לוונקובר. למרבית הפלא בדיקות קוביד בקנדה עבור הטסים נחשבות משום מה ליקרות בעולם. הבדיקה כאן עולה לי כמאתיים דולר. להערכתי עלות שלוש הבדיקות הנוספות (בישראל ובאירופה) יעלו לי גם כן ביחד כמאתיים דולר. כך שעלויות הנסיעה מתייקרות משמעותית.

לשמחתי הצלחתי לקבל חיסון שלישי של פייזר לקראת הנסיעה וזה אמור להקל עלי לעבור בין המדינות, וכמובן לשמור על בריאותי. יש לי כבר את פספורט החיסונים של הממשלה הפדרלית הקנדית שרק הוא טוב לנסיעות בעולם, בניגוד לפספורט החיסונים של ממשלת בריטיש קולומביה.

ומה קורה בנושא הטפסים: בעשרים וארבע השעות האחרונות לפני הנחיתה בישראל עלי למלא טופס מיוחד בנושא הקוביד מטעם מדינת ישראל. בעשרים וארבע השעות האחרונות לפני עזיבת ישראל עלי למלא שוב טופס מיוחד בנושא הקוביד מטעם מדינת ישראל. עם הנחיתה באמסטרדם עלי למלא טופס מיוחד בנושא הקוביד מטעם מדינת הולנד. ועם הנחיתה בברלין עלי למלא טופס מיוחד בנושא הקוביד מטעם מדינת גרמניה. עדיין לא ברור לי האם בשעת החזרה לאמסטרדם עלי למלא שוב טופס מיוחד בנושא הקוביד מטעם מדינת הולנד. לפני הנחיתה בקנדה עלי למלא את אפליקציית ארייבקאן בנושא הקוביד מטעם ממשלת קנדה. בקיצור לא חסרה לי עבודה בנושא הטפסים השונים.

אני מעריך שצפויים לי עדיין מספר נעלמים הקשורים בתקנות הקוביד של כל שלוש המדינות בהן אבקר, וכן של קנדה, שאינני יכול לחזות מראש. אני מאמין שהיערכותי הרצינית מראש וכן העובדה שקיבלתי כבר חיסון שלישי, יעזרו לי לעבור את כל המכשולים הבירוקרטים הצפויים לי בנסיעה מורכבת זו.

מספר מילים על השינויים בטיסות שגרמו לי להפסיד יום אחד מהביקור בתל אביב. כיוון שחברות התעופה מנסות להתייעל ולאחד טיסות כדי למלא אותן בנוסעים, הכרטיס שלי שונה כבר חמש פעמים. אני מניח שלא יהיו עוד שינויים כי אחרת אאלץ לבטל את כל הנסיעה. במקור הייתי אמור לטוס מוונקובר לפריז ביום שלישי אחר הצהרים, לנחות למחרת (רביעי) בבוקר. ולאחר המתנה של כשעה וחצי לצאת בטיסה לתל אביב ולנחות שם אחר הצהרים. כאמור הטיסה הזאת בוטלה ולאחריה בוטלו עוד שלוש טיסות שלי, ולבסוף מתברר שאגיע לתל אביב רק ביום חמישי לפנות בוקר.

Community support valued

Camp Hatikvah donors are not only helping ensure the quality of the camp but its inclusivity. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)

Camp Hatikvah is well known for its program offerings, as well as its facilities and its spectacular natural setting in the Okanagan Valley. What many people may not know, however, is that the camp is only the place that it is because of community backing. Camper fees cover things like counseling staff, food, insurance and site maintenance. Everything else – including every building and almost every piece of equipment – has been donated by supporters who want to ensure that Camp Hatikvah can continuously improve without passing on the cost of doing so to the young families whose children attend.

Camp Hatikvah was established in 1937. Its donor base understands the unparalleled value and impact of a Jewish camping experience. They know that today’s campers are tomorrow’s Jewish leaders and that a donation is not a gift to just the organization but an investment in the future of the Jewish community.

More than 20% of campers attend Hatikvah’s program with the help of financial assistance and it is estimated that another 25% are on the cusp of needing to do so as well. Donors appreciate that many camp families are struggling with the affordability of Jewish life in Metro Vancouver and want to help control fee increases without the camp having to compromise program growth or site improvements. By funding program enhancements, equipment upgrades or capital improvements, donors are not only helping ensure the quality of the camp but its inclusivity. While summer camps are expensive – and Camp Hatikvah is no exception – it is because of donors that, on a per-day basis, Camp Hatikvah is one of the least expensive Jewish camps in North America.

Donors have also played an instrumental role in getting Camp Hatikvah through the pandemic. Not able to operate in 2020, the camp was facing a financial crisis. Similarly, in 2021, while the camp was allowed to open, it had to dramatically reduce its capacity in order to manage the COVID protocols. The financial toll of both these summers had the potential to financially devastate the organization for years to come. Yet, as they always have, donors stepped in and stepped up immediately – they covered all the financial losses the camp was facing. The level of generosity and support not only got the camp through the financial challenges caused by the pandemic, but also gave the camp a renewed sense of purpose, determination and passion for serving the community.

The board and staff of Camp Hatikvah thank each and every donor who has played a role in helping the camp become – and remain – one of the best Jewish camps. To learn more about the camp’s programs and the donors who make them possible, visit camphatikvah.com.

– Courtesy Camp Hatikvah

COVID-free camp summers

Camp Miriam offered both day and overnight camping experiences this past summer. (photo from Camp Miriam)

Camp Miriam is celebrating that, for the past two summers, its youth leadership has pulled out all the stops to provide programming for hundreds of campers despite the challenges of the pandemic.

“Coming into June of this year, we were all set to hold Kaytana [day camp] again in Vancouver and Victoria because at that time the provincial health restrictions did not allow overnight camp,” said Leah Levi, the camp’s registrar. “Then, in early June, the health orders changed and we learned that there was the potential to go back to our site on Gabriola Island.”

At that point, the camp – and especially its youth leaders who are responsible for everything from programming to logistics – had a decision to make. Would they continue with the plan they had been working on for months and hold six weeks of day camp, or would they try to quickly pivot and add overnight camp to the program?

“Honestly, if it had been up to the adults on the camp committee, I think we would have stuck with our original plan. The logistics of organizing overnight camp on Gabriola, with only a few weeks’ notice and at a campsite that had been empty for over a year was really overwhelming,” said committee chair Trilby Smith. “Camp needed to be cleaned from top to bottom, there were ferries to book, cooks, medics and lifeguards to hire, food to order and so, so many more details.”

But the young leaders knew that, as great as day camp is, overnight camp was what their campers needed after 18 months of pandemic living. However, they didn’t want to disappoint parents who had already planned for day camp. In the end, they voted to host two weeks of day camp in both Vancouver and Victoria – and three weeks of overnight camp on Gabriola.

The camp committee and many Miriam alumni supported the decision and volunteered hundreds of hours to help get the campsite in shape and assist in all kinds of other ways. In addition, Miriam’s donor community also rushed to help support Jewish camping in 2021.

In the end, 271 kids and 70 youth staff got to experience a COVID-free 73rd summer of “Miriam magic,” in a summer when the magic was needed possibly more than ever.

The effects of the pandemic on youth mental health have been well documented. The Canadian Mental Health Association notes, “Social isolation, removal from school and daily routines, as well as isolation and loss associated with illness are some of the top stressors children are facing.”

This fact was not lost on Miriam’s youth leaders, who reported that both campers and staff arrived at camp this past summer with greater mental health challenges than they had seen in previous years. However, they also saw that, after just 10 days of unplugged, in-person experiences in an inclusive environment, there was a noticeable change for the better in the mood of many campers.

“It was like someone released a pressure valve,” said camp director Marina Levy. “As the campers made friends, processed events going on in the world through our educational programming, and got to just be kids without the constant distraction from their phones and screens, we saw many of them settle and become less anxious.”

Parents noticed a change in their kids, too. One parent who responded to Miriam’s post-summer survey said, “My kid was soooooo excited that there was a sleepover camp this year. It felt like an oasis of near normality in an otherwise dystopian year. She came back so much more relaxed, with strong connections to the kids in their kvutzah [group].”

According to Project L’Chaim’s fall edition of Self-Care for Caregivers, it’s not surprising that camp would provide a balm to its campers and staff. Many of the suggestions offered by mental health experts in the booklet are embedded into Camp Miriam’s programming. For example, Miriam campers are immersed in nature and enjoy daily “forest showers” under the fir and cedar trees on the Gabriola site. They also receive a healthy dose of spirituality and mindfulness, especially through Shabbat and Havdalah traditions.

Finally, the experts say that feeling like you’re a part of something larger than yourself and forming meaningful social connections are keys to good mental health. Above all else, Camp Miriam prides itself on its focus on inclusion, community and tikkun olam – all of which contribute to many campers reporting that they have made lifelong friends at camp and that they feel more comfortable being themselves at Miriam than they do anywhere else in their lives.

Levy knows the respite of camp will not solve all the pandemic-related mental health challenges facing youth, but she believes it’s a start. “And, hopefully, next summer will be even more normal,” she said.

Apparently, many families are hoping the same. Miriam’s registration, which just opened last month, is already almost full. Anyone hoping to register their children for Camp Miriam’s 2022 session can get more details at campmiriam.org. To learn more about Miriam’s 2021 summer, the camp’s newly released annual report is also available on the website.

Vancouver-based writer Kelley Korbin is a Camp Miriam alum and Camp Committee member.

נסיעה לישראל בעידן הקוביד

אבי, משה רחמני, נפטר בראשית פברואר השנה מסיבוכים רפואיים לאחר שנדבק בקוביד, בבית החולים בתל אביב. בן תשעים ואחת היה במותו וזה לא היה פשוט עבורי לצפות בטקס הלווייתו באמצעות ‘זום’ מוונקובר. כמה עשרות בני משפחה וחברים הורשו להגיע לבית הקברות האזרחי של קיבוץ מעלה החמישה. ואני שלא יכולתי לטוס אז לישראל – עמדתי כל זמן הטקס (שנערך בשעתיים לפנות בוקר לפי שעון ונקובר) וצפיתי בו באמצעות מסך המחשב – כמעט בחוסר אונים מוחלט.

מאז אני מנסה לתכנן נסיעה לישראל ולבקר את אימי, לוצי רחמני, בת התשעים ושתיים, כדי לשהות במחיצתה לאחר חודשים ארוכים וקשים כל כך לה ולכולנו. כל פעם אני מתכנן את הנסיעה ואז נאלץ לדחותה בגלל המגבלות השונות. הפעם אני מקווה שהתכנון יצא אל הפועל ואנחת בישראל בראשית דצמבר. כך אוכל סוף סוף להיות עם אמא, לדאוג לה, לדבר עימה ולחזק את ידה, לאחר אולי השנה הקשה ביותר בחיים הארוכים שלה.

הפעם בניגוד לביקורים קודמים שלי בתל אביב, אני מתכנן להקצות את מרבית זמני להיום עם אמא. בעיקר בשעות אחר הצהרים והערב, כדי שלא תרגיש שהיא לבד, שהבדידות מקננת בה. רוצה אני קצת לשמח אותה, קצת להקל עליה וקצת לשמוע אותה.

הביקורים שלי בישראל בדרך כלל נערכים אחת לשנה או שנתיים, מאז הגרתי לוונקובר לפני כשבעה עשרה שנים. טיסה מוונקובר לתל אביב היא משימה לא פשוטה כלל ועיקר ועוד בעידן הקוביד, הקשיים רבים הרבה יותר.

אין טיסות ישרות מכאן לשם ועומדות בפני מספר אפשרויות: לטוס ללוס אנג’לס ומשם ישירות לתל אביב. לטוס לטורונטו ומשם ישירות לתל אביב. או לטוס לאירופה (למדינות כמו הולנד, בריטניה, צרפת או גרמניה) ומשם להמשיך לתל אביב. אני בדרך כלל מעדיף לטוס דרך אירופה ולעשות חניית ביניים אחרי הביקור בישראל, כך שאוכל באמת לנוח למספר ימים ולהנות ממה שאירופה המקסימה עבורי יכולה להציע, ובעיקר בנושאי תרבות.

לכן כמו כל נסיעה בשנים האחרונות החלטתי לטוס תחילה לתל אביב, תוך החלפת מטוס באמסטרדם. ובחזרה להתעכב למספר ימים באמסטרדם ואף לקפוץ לביקור קצר להמבורג, כדי לפגוש את חברי הוותיק, נתן יריב, בן התשעים ושלוש. אנו הכרנו לפני כעשרים וחמש שנים עת גר עם אשתו באמסטרדם. יריב היה בעברו מפיק של סרטים תיעודיים וכך הכרנו. הוא עשה סרט בישראל על יהודים שרצחו יהודים, בעקבות רצח רבין. שני עיתונאים בישראל שידעו על כך הכירו בינו וביני. מאז אנו חברים ולכן אני מתכנן לבקר אותו ואת אשתו שוב בהמבורג לאחר הביקור בתל אביב.

לסיום הנסיעה הנוכחית אשהה מספר ימים באמסטרדם כדי לנוח מכל מה שמתוכנן לי בנסיעה מסובכת זו, ולפני שאני חוזר לעבודה במלוא המרץ לקראת סיום השנה. אני משמש מבקר בחברה פיננסית ולא חסרה לי עבודה בעיקר לקראות סוף השנה.

את הכרטיס לטיול הנוכחי רכשתי כבר בחודש יולי כיוון שהמחירים לא מפסיקים לעלות. מצאתי אז שהמחירים הזולים ביותר לטיסות שהן בראשית דצמבר ועוד לפני חג המולד, המשמש אחד מהחגים העמוסים ביותר בתחום התיירות העולמית.

ידעתי אז שמצפים לי קשיים רבים בהכנות לנסיעה בגלל מגבלות ותקנות הקוביד, שהן שונות ממדינה למדינה. בקיצור לא פשוט לטוס בימים אלה. אין ספק שאם לא היה מדובר באמי לא הייתי נוסע. הצעתי לכל מי שמעונין לשמוע שלא לטוס בימים אלה אם הוא לא חייב.

The small things matter most

With Chanukah coming early this year, more than one person has prompted me with, “Can you believe it? Are you ready for the holiday?” Meanwhile, on the news, we’re being bombarded with concerns about supply chain management. The message from stores is, “Shop early! We don’t have everything in stock and don’t know when we’re getting more!”

I might be the only person saying, in advance of what some people see as a huge gift-giving season: “No worries! It’s all fine.” Crazy, right? How could a person with kids think this?

Well, last year, when things seemed stressful, I was sewing endless numbers of flannel pajama bottoms for my twins for Chanukah. They got a lot of hand-sewn and hand-knitted gifts because I was so concerned that we might not have “enough.” Also, they were remote schooling, and I stayed up late working because I wanted them to know that they would lack nothing, we cared about them and wanted them to feel loved despite the major disruptions in their lives.

For years, I’ve advocated for buying local, making things from scratch or finding second-hand stuff close to home. If anything, I’ve appreciated that the pandemic made other people clean up and sell things they didn’t need. My kids don’t mind getting second-hand Playmobil. After all, someone else’s tidying campaign meant more toys for them!

For me, on a small scale, it means my kids get something they wanted and we don’t have to feel guilty about buying all this plastic. We’re just buying and reusing someone else’s plastic purchase. That’s better, right?

Some of our presents have always been socks or underwear, and this year will be no different. I foresee some intangible gifts, too, like my parents’ kind choice to buy us a family membership to the zoo. We’ll definitely have our night or two of tzedakah (charity) giving to the food bank or the Humane Society. We’ll have our doughnuts and latkes.

So, what’s Jewish about all this? Well, all of it. First, my family celebrates Chanukah, full stop. And, in a year with plenty of antisemitism, it seems great to proudly celebrate a holiday that commemorates Jewish victories and religious freedom.

Second, our traditions definitely suggest that the details matter – study any Torah portion and its commentaries, a page of Talmud, or just attend any Jewish organization’s board meeting. Getting the small choices around gift giving or festive oily foods right matters in our worldview. Hillel and Shammai debated which way to light the menorah or chanukiyah, but nobody said, “It doesn’t matter! Don’t bother! It’s all good!” What we do, how we act and how we choose to observe rituals with our families – it matters.

Third, in a time when so many of us have lost friends or family to COVID, or when some of us are struggling with our health, it’s so great to have a happy holiday ahead. I’ve always thought that the wish to gather with family and friends “only at simchas” (celebrations) seemed strange, because we need our loved ones when times are hard, too. Yet, we’ve all had plenty of hard times since March 2020. It’s OK to hope to be celebratory. I get the “only simchas” thing now.

The return to “normal” has been touted by some as very important. In my household, with kids who aren’t old enough to be vaccinated yet, we’re not back to normal. However, the whole supply chain breakdown is another reminder that normal wasn’t really that great. Our past acquisition system took advantage of many low-wage workers, wasted tons of energy moving goods across the world, and filled up our lives with more and more stuff. It might be a time to look closer to home for presents, make things for others, and stop expecting that buying this year’s “it” toy will make all the difference. We could all do with a little more handmade, local, small business support. Now’s the time for that.

It’s true that the supply chain disruption and the ongoing pandemic concerns make some things really difficult. If you’ve had an essential appliance break down, it might be months before you can get a replacement part. If you’re waiting for surgery and are in pain due to the current burdens on our healthcare system, you have all my sympathies. Worse still, if you’ve lost a family member, your job, business or your health, these are seriously hard things. These are the things that matter.

I don’t know if or when normal will return. If anything, studying more Jewish texts at this time has reminded me that we’re not alone in facing adversity. Throughout thousands of years, Jews have struggled with disease, forced immigration, difficulties in employment, poverty and death. It might be more useful to ask when we didn’t face big disruptions to “normal.” Our tradition has a lot to teach us about sticking to our ritual routines, observing holidays and caring for others in good and in hard times.

I can’t fix politics, or war or the supply chain anxieties. I miss my U.S. family and being able to travel to see them safely, without potential COVID exposure. However, my household has gotten much better at prioritizing small things that count. Now, we’re in a place where a long walk on Shabbat is a pleasure, playing outside is a gift, and new toys, tasty foods or fun surprises can be blessings for which we’re grateful. Chatting with a neighbour or seeing a woodpecker – these things can now make a day a special one. These daily details and rituals matter more than any single 2021 acquisition.

Wishing you a happy Chanukah, full of “only good” details that count: oily treats, enjoyable Jewish traditions, a meaningful donation or two and gifts that makes a difference close to home.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Keys to happiness

Neil Pasricha, the keynote speaker at Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s The Community of Awesome event Oct. 3, contends that people can be more content in their lives if they take two minutes every morning to finish these three thoughts: “I will let go of … I am grateful for… I will focus on….” (screenshot)

In lieu of the traditional large in-person event that launches the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s annual campaign, a livestream broadcast from Hillel House at the University of British Columbia Sunday night highlighted the successes and challenges of the pandemic year.

“Donors have given more generously than ever before,” said Lana Marks Pulver, chair of the annual campaign. “Organizations have innovated faster and better. Volunteers have dedicated countless hours pitching in wherever they are needed – that includes more than 200 volunteer canvassers for the annual campaign.

“The pandemic has shown us that we are really good at overcoming challenges,” she said. “We know that, whatever the future holds, we can be there for one another and we will be there.”

Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation, thanked sponsors, in particular Air Canada, which has provided five tickets to anywhere in North America, one for each of the five Jewish day schools in the region, to give to an educator to reconnect with family.

Candace Kwinter, chair of the Federation board, noted that, early in the pandemic, a think tank had predicted that 25% of B.C. nonprofits would not survive the economic and social consequences of the crisis.

“We are very proud that no local Jewish organization has folded,” said Kwinter. “And thank goodness, because demand for their programs and services has only grown.”

A video highlighted the work of Jewish Family Services Vancouver, one of 32 partners supported by the annual campaign. Their services include the Jewish Food Bank, a crisis line and programs for seniors to use iPads to connect with one another.

In the last fiscal year, Kwinter said, Jewish Federation distributed $11.8 million, including $3 million through the Jewish Community Foundation. In addition, the foundation distributed more than $270,000 through their unrestricted grant program, to allow community organizations to adapt.

The Oct. 3 event’s keynote presenter was Neil Pasricha, who is the bestselling author of seven books, including You are Awesome, The Happiness Equation and The Book of Awesome. He is one of the most popular TED Talks presenters. After obtaining his MBA from Harvard, he worked as director of leadership at Walmart for a decade.

photo - Neil Pasricha — Neil Pasricha *(photo by Leia Vita)*

The Toronto-based speaker focused on how to be happy, noting that the pandemic has resulted in higher rates of anxiety, loneliness and suicide than ever. With the enthusiastic energy of a 1950s disc jockey, Pasricha disputed what he called the assumption that happiness flows from great work, which leads to big success and then to happiness.

“It’s the opposite,” he said. “You have to be happy first, then you do great work and the big success follows.”

Happy people, he said, are 31% more productive, have 37% higher sales and are 300% more creative.

“Happy people get promoted 40% more often,” he added. “More importantly, happy people live an average of 10 years longer.”

He suggests that everybody take two minutes in the morning to write down three commitments.

“When you wake up, I want you to spend two of the 1,000 waking minutes a day doing a little exercise,” Pasricha said. “You write down these three things. I will let go of … I am grateful for… I will focus on.…”

When we consciously think about and write down the things that bother us, he said, we live life with greater contentment and happiness.

“Saying something that is bothering you, writing it down, actually helps you get it off your chest.”

Election about nothing

Justin Trudeau’s gamble on winning a majority backfired. Still, whatever outrage Canadians felt about marching to the polls amid a pandemic didn’t cost him much (beyond the $600 million expense of the election itself). The Liberal party returned with an almost identical seat count as the one they started with. All the other parties had an equally uneventful night. In 338 ridings, of course, there were plenty of individual surprises – candidates expected to win lost and longshots saw victories – but it all amounted to a wash in the big picture.

Aside from Trudeau’s personal ambition to turn a minority government into a majority, the election turned out to be about not much. The handling of the pandemic, the economy, the environment, foreign affairs – all the usual topics got their time in the limelight but none captured the passion of voters. The ballot question, if there was one, turned out to be, quite simply, more of the same, yes or no? And Canadians responded: meh.

The campaign began inauspiciously, with a split screen showing Trudeau visiting Rideau Hall at the very moment all hell broke loose in Afghanistan. Foreign affairs are rarely a defining factor in Canadian elections, and this one was no different. Canada’s sometimes wishy-washy foreign policy will likely be unaltered. Barring some dramatic shift, Canada will probably continue to placate the Chinese government rather than confront them, go along to get along at the United Nations and walk a mushy middle ground on Israel and Palestine.

Equally unchanged, presumably, will be Canada’s domestic policies. The economy is doing well, especially given the challenges of the pandemic, and voters seemed to neither reward nor punish the governing party.

On the campaign trail, we saw alarming images of vitriol and even some violence. Voices of rage drove some of the fringe movements, like the People’s Party, to surprising levels of support, but gratefully their xenophobia and base hatreds will not be represented in the House of Commons. That particular incarnation of far-right extremism will ideally dissipate in the aftermath of their electoral failure.

Yet, voters who before thought that a prime minister dissolving Parliament to seek a majority mandate is hardly an unknown phenomenon in our system may now look at the status quo that resulted from the 36-day campaign with even more cynicism. As it stands, Trudeau survived. But, in the end, what was the election about? The answer appears to be … nothing.