Silver Surfer

A " Silver Surfer " is a person over that certain age when their hair becomes silver and yet surprise surprise they still have enough marbles in order to surf the internet.

It might be a "nick name" a derogatory term but in my case its true, twice over!

Being called a Silver Surfer is no put down, not only , because my hair, after many years of hennaing, dying, cutting, preening, curling, straightening and tending, is at last like my grand mothers ,100 % naturally delightfully silver !But also because my family or surname is Silver.

The other afternoon, as I was dozing off for my really indulgent but often required, afternoon nap, there was a knock on my door, ( not an unusual occurrence, I counted eight visitors who were "just passing " the same day alone !)

My neighbors sixteen year old daughter arrived panic struck holding her Bagrut (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagrut ) English project all about the history and the influences of the internet.

This bright and inquisitive young woman listed (in English) over a cup of tea (statutory when you visit my home !) all the ways people use the internet.

Afterwards while we researched the history, she became wide eyed with disbelieve. For her a world without this tool of communication, entertainment, research, and most importantly chat was completely & utterly untenable.

She couldn't comprehend that just before she was born, the internet as we know it today did not exist. When she left shaking her head, also mind boggled at the thought of world without Google, Facebook and You Tube, I thought about all the ways that the internet has enhanced my life.

I thank God daily that I was born in an age of instant communication.

I wake up most mornings to find a new "Mr Yummy "photo or video posted on my Facebook wall, so I can keep abreast of all his major developmental milestones.

Via Skype I speak regularly to my mother in the the south of England, my cousins, family and friends spread out all over the world.

Within seconds news flashes on screens all over the universe, friends and family share each other joys and sorrows.

Separation from ones nearest family is no picnic. However when I feel a wallowing wave of loneliness come over me,I try and imagine how my great great grand mother felt, when she sent my then teen aged, great grandfather all the way to the UK from white Russia, in order to escape the long arm of the Russian army.

In those days there were no clear lines of communication, a letter, a prized possession could take over three months to be delivered. Photo's were rare, so when in those troubled times, a parent said goodbye to their children, they were unsure they would every hear from them, let alone see them again.

I am not as brave or as self sacrificing as my great great grandmother, however I hope I have Inherited her incredible faith and inner strength.

Like all the other divided families I know, my separation is daily cushioned by the father of the internet, TimBernersLee http://inventors.about.com/od/bstartinventors/p/TimBernersLee.htm(who is actually a British man , four years younger than I)

Enhanced by Mark Zuckerberg the founder of Facebook http://www.facebook.com/http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Zuckerberg

and made 100% tolerable by Janus Friis who's entrepreneurial spirit brought SKYPE http://www.skype.com/ -to the world therefore uniting so many erstwhile separated loved ones.

Separation is always difficult, even the with knowledge that your children are alive and well and happy and prospering. But I am blessed that I don't live in "Anatevka" http://www.answerbag.com/q_view/352953 and that I have the added comfort of modern day technology to boost my daily dose of parental & "Safta reassurance" therefor potentially allowing me to have the deep seated faith of my incredibly fearless paternal great great grandmother .

An Englishman's ( woman's ) home is their castle.

What is a home? There are many idioms about ones home. "An Englishman's home is their castle" "Home is where the heart is" "Safe as Houses", "Having a roof over ones head"All of these amount to security. This morning when I awoke I was content in my home,not knowing of the danger lurking I got a real test of my emunah, notification that my house is going to be destroyed on possibly this Sunday, the paper wasn't served it was placed outside dated last Sunday.

A guy who was next door found it and gave it to me. My landlady was on her way back from US, my landlord was teaching.

I scanned document to a friend who told me what it said, I phoned round, trying to ascertain out if this would actually happen or if it’s a ploy. I live in a legal Yeshuve, on someone’s legal land;

General the opinion ranges from many people get the notifications and nothing happens - to they (the special police force that removes people from their homes with their team of packers)

can (& have in the recent past evicted residents and destroyed three homes locally, ) and will come.

Before I came to to live here I spent eight months staying with friends & family all my things in store living out of a few bags because I had nowhere else affordable to live,( I tried Jerusalem twice )I came here because my friends offered me an affordable home within an orthodox community made up of many of my friends.

After working for two years as an Em Bayit in the Midreshet on this Yeshuve, I grew to know and love the area and the people.

I must confess, I am not living here for mainly political reasons; sorry to say I do not have the reserves of energy needed to be that much of an idealist.

I am a nearly 60 year old grandmother, an arthritic cancer survivor, an aspiring writer, an accidental settler, who lives quietly on her own with her cat and only wants a quiet settled place where she can communicate with nature face to face and on line with her family & grandson.

Mid morning the Rabbi came and got the document and is trying to sort it out....

they say no news is good news I have heard nothing ....

Meanwhile I am trying to stay calm but it’s not easy, I am numb, nervous stressed angry, drained of emotion.emotional all at once.

I want to fight,

I want to fly

I want to stay,

I want to go

(more than anything I want a big hug from my son.)

I know everything is from Hashem and think good it will be good mean while I am packing up my most treasured possessions and davening and counting the time I have left here as a gift

I have to make decisions, Do I have the emotional energy for this? Can I live under this kind of threat and pressure ? Do I pack up and go ( where too?) Do I stay put and wait for the thud in the night on my door ? Am I over reacting ?,

What ever my decision, I will pick up my tehillim and ask you to pick up yours and ask the highest authority to overturn this decree….

Think good and it will be good.

--

Oh I do like to be be side the sea side.....

Brighton, well Hove Actually ! is my home town , I wake up every morning to a picture of the West Pier. I carry a seagull (wooden ) from home to home all over the world,as a tribute to Seagulls ( Brighton & Hove Albion Foot ball Club) and a reminder of my maternal Grandfather and my football crazed cousins! ( I love & miss you guys so much)
Although I live in Israel which feeds my spiritual needs , Brighton & Hove will always be part of my essence. Nothing will erase the years I spent there. The beach was my haunt, the sea my friend , the promenade my thinking ground as I trudged along it on many a wet and windy morning.

Originally a fishing village then a pleasure town for Prinny ( Prince Regent). Brighton continues to be the place for liberal minded free thinkers, artists, truth seekers...as well as a very popular place for day trippers. Thousands of English language students attend the multitude of language schools housed in the Regency buildings in Brighton & Hove every year.
The Brighton & Hove of the 1950's was a genteel place where "manners maketh man" was the practiced byline . It was only in the '60s when the Mods and Rockers came down on their bikes and scooters was the town catapulted into the swinging '60s. Its close proximity to London makes it a place for actors and media moguls to live.
My life is intrinsically linked to this seaside town.
Senior members of family lived and died there,My Mother and Aunts and their family's still along with my oldest most trusted childhood friend lives there. My father lived above the Metrepole hotel. My son was born a few hours before the Brighton Bombing in 1984. My cousin represented the area as a Member of Parliament.
This was my stomping ground. I was never going to leave, yet in my life I have left and returned countless times, as if connected by an invisible umbilical cord .
On January the 12th 2006, as I sped up the M23 in my brothers car towards Heathrow El Al check in, I knew in my heart that I had finally cut the cord and I was leaving the town as a resident for the very last time.

Brighton is where I learnt how to eat piping hot fish and chips out of newspaper while battling the rain.Brighton and Hove is where I first went legally to a pub on my 18th Birthday.
Middle Street SynagogueBrighton, is where I first went to synagogue,and where I came in touch with my love of all things Jewish and realized there was a higher being that guided our lives.
IMPORTANT LAND MARKS

The Royal Pavilion The onion domed 18th century seaside palace ,was my favorite childhood outing, and in latter times the gardens was a place to meet friends while our children played hide and seek behind the overgrown palms.
The Lanes
Once the heart of the old fishing town of Brighthelmstone,now teeming with antique shops to tempt the tourists and collectors alike . This is were until his death in 1983 you would find my father discussing the value of a broach or ring with his fellow dealers. It is also where I worked briefly in 1967 as an apprentice hairdresser in the now long defunked Honey Hair salon. In its day it was famous for it's pop art decor and black and white mini skirted uniforms . It was here on September 4th 1967, I first learnt the benefit of hair dye, and went home hiding my bleached blond hair under a tightly tied scarf !

At the back of the town is The Jewish Cemetery,Bear Road not on your average tourist spot, here along side the first Jewish chief constable of East Sussex rest my grand parents, father, uncles and other family members who are never very far from my mind. They are my link to the past where as Eitan is my link to the future.
If your going to Bear Road please place a stone on their graves for me. Thank you.

A Change in Status

I always wanted to be a mother, and a grandmother.

According to family folk law I apparently told my mother at the age of five , after I had spent six months in School, that I had learnt enough & It was about time I left school, so I could concentrate on my life long ambition to become a mother.

I am happy to announce that my mother decided that my education needed more of a boost and my request was denied.

I became a mother on the 11th October 1984 at the age of 33. As I held my son in my arms for the first time I promised him that I would, to the best of my ability , love, nurture,guide, coach, coax, protect , provide for, take care of , educate & Inform him; thus preparing him for the day he would also hold his child in his ams and make his own silent promises.

I had phenomenal grandmothers, they taught and nurtured me, laughed and cried with me, they formulated my very essence. I saw them with out fail every week where they would not only feed my body but my soul.

One grand mother taught me to cook, do needle point , and to act like a lady. The other taught me how to shop in markets ,to love reading , and to embrace enjoy life with all my heart.

Both grandmothers loved me totally unconditionally and I knew that I was special to them.

On the 28th February 2010 at approximately 4.am a very wet Purim Morning I became a Grandmother .

In the Beginning

To Blog or not to blog ,this is the question. (apologies to Shakespeare)

Ten Reasons to blog :-

1. I have the time
2. I enjoy creative writing,
3. Its an easy option to writing long emails to family and friends keeping them updated on my whereabouts and health.
4. Its a diary / journal that lets my grandson know me
5. It could be a social history.
6. Its less fattening than eating ( another of my hobbies!)
7. Its self indulgent ( Is that allowed? )
8. Its a way to reflect
9. Its therapeutic.
10. I want to!

So let me Introduce myself, my name is Rachelle , AKA Corinne Rachelle, AKA BYM ,( British Yosef's Mother) Or Mum, Ima, Safta. depending on who you are. I made Aliyah ( emigrated ) from the UK four and a half years ago and found Bat Ayin the village where I live, three years ago.

Apart from two brief adventures with Jerusalem landlords, I have lived in the rolling Judean hills since June 2007.

Yes, before you ask Bat Ayin is behind the green line , but like so many accidental settlers ,I came here for social economic reasons ,( I needed a job and somewhere to live at the time) and returned because I love the surroundings, the people, plus the history which is seeping from every rock within the Yeshuve. ( Village).

Gush Etzion the area and in particular Bat Ayin has been subjected to a lot of media hype,the people here are meant to be:- radical, hippy, Idealistic , to an extent that is true of some people, both here and all over the country; However , Bat Ayin is home to people from all walks of life, Doctors, Estate Agents, Computer Nerds, Nurses, Rabbies, Carpenters, Builders, Cooks, Shopkeeper,Gardeners, Farmers Teachers, Electricians,Aromatherapists,Medical practitioners, Bus Divers , Musicians, Artists, all rub shoulders with each other and form the 160 family strong Dati ( religious ) community. The main language spoken is actually Hebrew but 25% of the population are anglos. we are very supportive of each other and share in each others highs and lows.

It is amazing to me that this self professed city girl, who was born in a city by the sea, who felt she couldn't exist unless there was a shop within one minutes walk, who needed the stimuli of of a cosmopolitan inner city area, has settled down and is more than happy with the pace of life in my ecologically friendly, modest hill top home.