My Passover Diary - 2009
Morning of Passover - I awaken, remember to bless the sun, go out into the backyard, say the prayers, feel that there is some kind of diamond matrix around my inner eye, the heat is intense. I go back inside to say the remainder of the morning prayers. I did not wear new clothes. I had none to wear.
Later I burn my hametz - did not say the prayer - built a quick little fire, burnt some rice cakes I had, covered it all with dirt and continued to clean.
I am still cleaning.
My heart starts to pound around early noon.
I start self medicating with arak, my heart it really pounding hard I take a tranquilizer. I eat something, wash my face, go out into the garden, inspect my plants and continue to prepare.
I finally clear off the table that will become my seder table. I didn't buy pots or pans, only a set of stainless steel storage bins that fit into one another and come with plastic lids. I figure I can cook in them. The night before I went to the mikvah on the moshav and dipped all the utensils I purchased - including the glasses, cutting board and these containers.
They are thin. They burn easily. I boiled some eggs, some potatoes and wrapped my one chicken wing for the plate in what was supposed to be heavy duty aluminum foil. It wasn't. But the wing roasted. I made charoset in the new chopper. I made horseradish in beets in the chopper. The mushroom, matza, walnut, celery kugel began to burn in this container. I shlepped out the cast iron wok I never used put that under the new container covered it all with aluminum foil and let that cook without burning.
The day before I splurged on very expensive Shmura matza. I used regular matza meal in the kugel. Which didn't burn in the end. I had gefilte fish in a jar - breaking away from my vegetarian stance.
I had my seder. With tablecloths from a charity on a table not mine on plastic dishes, using a found hagaddah. Mogen Dovid wine with Efrat wine. Mogen Dovid tasted like cherry cough syrup. All in all the matzot rocked. They were truly holy. I just noticed today that it says CHAI REGAIM. They come from Jerusalem. Those guys know their stuff. Totally worth the splurge.
Yesterday, the day after I notice the clean house and the simplicity starting to fall into a not so crazy space of being alone and actually feeling ok. Then after morning prayers and kiddush of leftovers I read, then fall asleep to awaken to smashing and cracking. I try to fall back asleep figuring it was the door or window. I see ChiChi upset and figure I might want to investigate. I open the door and see every teen and child in the moshav standing there in front of the house I rent hurling rocks, stones and kicking a basket ball onto the side of the front. In spite of not being tzniut dressed I flip open the makeshift door I made with cloth - because I have no gates, no fence, no boundaries and go to pick up the basketball and swiftly go into the house again.
Heart begins to pound. I take another drink. 15 minutes later a dark entity appears at my now open window and says *give my son his ball back* - me body outside of self say - *it is my holiday that you have disturbed. You want your ball back, it will return to you when the police come*. And he leaves. The band of terrorist children leave. And I pray. I wail to Hashem. I try to uplift myself telling myself this is all payback karma. I did horrible things to people and this is payback. And it's all being shown to me through these people. Rocks because I must be stoned. Breakage because i must be broken and humbled.
I bought a book called Aneni from the charity. I opened it then to a prayer of learning how to accept suffering with happiness. I started saying the prayer. Finished it. Then went into an animalistic angelic soulful foundation utterance to the upper spheres with my voice without words just emanations. And then moved to niggun then moved to song and back and forth throughout. Then said another prayer from the Aneni.
Then the holiday was over. I kept the outdoor light on all night, in spite of the fact that I cannot afford to pay for the electricity. I am fearful that these people will burn down my house, charge a car into it, cause me and mine harm and its a constant vigil. I slept only lightly.
This morning I went outside again to the garden where one lone blossom is blooming from a still yet unknown unnamed tree and began to pray. Then I heard the crashes of the stones again. How to pray when the gates of gehenom are open and inviting. It is a struggle to breathe. Especially now with my heart troubles. I have pain and trouble in my heart. It is grief coupled with women's issues in all their spectrum. I can't affort shoes let alone the basics that make a woman discreet. But I keep to myself so that is not so much of a problem and I make do.
I quickly dress more appropriately, cover hair, grab camera and confront the new antagonizes. I have my Sony Mavica with me, trusty but not disk - I start taking pictures. I taken photos of them all. I said this - you are now all on film - ANYONE - I mean ANYONE coming to my house and throwing ANYTHING on it - the police will be shown their photo and they will be severely punished. I said to one of the adults - are these your children? Are you not ashamed to be raising terrorists? Hamasniks? Because that is exactly what they are. I have you all now on film and no one will escape punishment. You want to be terrorists? Go to Gaza! Not here! And ended it.
At the entrance way I picked up 2 fresh stones that had been hurled at my house while I was in the garden. My hypersensitivity picked up that distinct crashing noise. I took them and hurled them to the ground. I have the collection of the others that were thrown at me in a silk scarf - either waiting for fingerprinting analysis and then sue the whole moshav for damages to me, my psyche my wellbeing or to hurl back at them in one fell swoop when the time comes.
I consider these options.
Returning to home I am unsettled. Not knowing where I have erred and how to rectify. Why this punishment - over and over in a circle - thoughts circle. I see myself in the mirror - I don't even know who this person is. I've transformed from hippy to grandmother in 6 years. Nothing recognizable. Nothing familiar. I am simply living amongst a collective of barbaric Jews who hail from the Morrocan mountains living according to land rules and machismo. They are feeders off negativity in all its forms - it is in their psyche - much gevura - and fear in their cycles. I rise above only slightly - I do not mix with anyone - I stay by myself - I shutter myself in for the reasons mentioned above and tzniut. Lest they say - this single woman what is she doing here let us oust her from our midst. I have tried to circumvent that from the start.
It is now after noon. Ive stuffed myself with 4 matzot, some lettuce and some cheese with onions. I had some alcohol and took a sedative. I have a big white Sefer Yetzirah that had had a segulah for Shemira in it - but someone spliced off. I see that as being symbolic. Nonetheless. I have others. I would have like my Sefer Yetzirah intact though. Without splicing. I am comforted by the Gra giving his notes and clarity to the writings. I need to understand what he trying to convey to me more thoroughly. I would like to be able to concentrate without fear for my life here.
And why am I here? I have moved 7 times since arriving in Israel in 04. From one war zone to the other - south to north to south again - going to places nobody else wants for all sorts of reasons - my reason being mainly affordability and away from too many neighbors. I need my open spaces. And so I've been in refugee mode now for all this time, alone on the road with my cats trying to correct, fix, move up and forward and find a place to put down some roots.
My garden is filled with containers, not daring to sow directly here in the soil - when I know this is not the place to call home. It is temporary housing. With all that entails. And like one of the terrorists said a few months ago as he was hurling stones then firecrackers at me *you're not welcome here.*
These are the Jews of the Achuzzam. And I will post the map here so that anyone out there of my tribe who would like to offer some support to me - can find me. While they still can. I am without a car, without means of transportation and other than Hashem Almighty - no protection. And I must see this as being a call for help to me from me to the world. See how we've fallen, so low, without remorse or conscience. See how we continue the sinat chinam - instilling fear and trepidation into the hearts of our brothers and sisters. And I am an orphan. And my wail will be heard and will reverberate throughout the universe till Hashem hears, judges and corrects this aberration. I cannot do more.
Erev Shabbat, Yom Sheni Pessach
Joy
Later I burn my hametz - did not say the prayer - built a quick little fire, burnt some rice cakes I had, covered it all with dirt and continued to clean.
I am still cleaning.
My heart starts to pound around early noon.
I start self medicating with arak, my heart it really pounding hard I take a tranquilizer. I eat something, wash my face, go out into the garden, inspect my plants and continue to prepare.
I finally clear off the table that will become my seder table. I didn't buy pots or pans, only a set of stainless steel storage bins that fit into one another and come with plastic lids. I figure I can cook in them. The night before I went to the mikvah on the moshav and dipped all the utensils I purchased - including the glasses, cutting board and these containers.
They are thin. They burn easily. I boiled some eggs, some potatoes and wrapped my one chicken wing for the plate in what was supposed to be heavy duty aluminum foil. It wasn't. But the wing roasted. I made charoset in the new chopper. I made horseradish in beets in the chopper. The mushroom, matza, walnut, celery kugel began to burn in this container. I shlepped out the cast iron wok I never used put that under the new container covered it all with aluminum foil and let that cook without burning.
The day before I splurged on very expensive Shmura matza. I used regular matza meal in the kugel. Which didn't burn in the end. I had gefilte fish in a jar - breaking away from my vegetarian stance.
I had my seder. With tablecloths from a charity on a table not mine on plastic dishes, using a found hagaddah. Mogen Dovid wine with Efrat wine. Mogen Dovid tasted like cherry cough syrup. All in all the matzot rocked. They were truly holy. I just noticed today that it says CHAI REGAIM. They come from Jerusalem. Those guys know their stuff. Totally worth the splurge.
Yesterday, the day after I notice the clean house and the simplicity starting to fall into a not so crazy space of being alone and actually feeling ok. Then after morning prayers and kiddush of leftovers I read, then fall asleep to awaken to smashing and cracking. I try to fall back asleep figuring it was the door or window. I see ChiChi upset and figure I might want to investigate. I open the door and see every teen and child in the moshav standing there in front of the house I rent hurling rocks, stones and kicking a basket ball onto the side of the front. In spite of not being tzniut dressed I flip open the makeshift door I made with cloth - because I have no gates, no fence, no boundaries and go to pick up the basketball and swiftly go into the house again.
Heart begins to pound. I take another drink. 15 minutes later a dark entity appears at my now open window and says *give my son his ball back* - me body outside of self say - *it is my holiday that you have disturbed. You want your ball back, it will return to you when the police come*. And he leaves. The band of terrorist children leave. And I pray. I wail to Hashem. I try to uplift myself telling myself this is all payback karma. I did horrible things to people and this is payback. And it's all being shown to me through these people. Rocks because I must be stoned. Breakage because i must be broken and humbled.
I bought a book called Aneni from the charity. I opened it then to a prayer of learning how to accept suffering with happiness. I started saying the prayer. Finished it. Then went into an animalistic angelic soulful foundation utterance to the upper spheres with my voice without words just emanations. And then moved to niggun then moved to song and back and forth throughout. Then said another prayer from the Aneni.
Then the holiday was over. I kept the outdoor light on all night, in spite of the fact that I cannot afford to pay for the electricity. I am fearful that these people will burn down my house, charge a car into it, cause me and mine harm and its a constant vigil. I slept only lightly.
This morning I went outside again to the garden where one lone blossom is blooming from a still yet unknown unnamed tree and began to pray. Then I heard the crashes of the stones again. How to pray when the gates of gehenom are open and inviting. It is a struggle to breathe. Especially now with my heart troubles. I have pain and trouble in my heart. It is grief coupled with women's issues in all their spectrum. I can't affort shoes let alone the basics that make a woman discreet. But I keep to myself so that is not so much of a problem and I make do.
I quickly dress more appropriately, cover hair, grab camera and confront the new antagonizes. I have my Sony Mavica with me, trusty but not disk - I start taking pictures. I taken photos of them all. I said this - you are now all on film - ANYONE - I mean ANYONE coming to my house and throwing ANYTHING on it - the police will be shown their photo and they will be severely punished. I said to one of the adults - are these your children? Are you not ashamed to be raising terrorists? Hamasniks? Because that is exactly what they are. I have you all now on film and no one will escape punishment. You want to be terrorists? Go to Gaza! Not here! And ended it.
At the entrance way I picked up 2 fresh stones that had been hurled at my house while I was in the garden. My hypersensitivity picked up that distinct crashing noise. I took them and hurled them to the ground. I have the collection of the others that were thrown at me in a silk scarf - either waiting for fingerprinting analysis and then sue the whole moshav for damages to me, my psyche my wellbeing or to hurl back at them in one fell swoop when the time comes.
I consider these options.
Returning to home I am unsettled. Not knowing where I have erred and how to rectify. Why this punishment - over and over in a circle - thoughts circle. I see myself in the mirror - I don't even know who this person is. I've transformed from hippy to grandmother in 6 years. Nothing recognizable. Nothing familiar. I am simply living amongst a collective of barbaric Jews who hail from the Morrocan mountains living according to land rules and machismo. They are feeders off negativity in all its forms - it is in their psyche - much gevura - and fear in their cycles. I rise above only slightly - I do not mix with anyone - I stay by myself - I shutter myself in for the reasons mentioned above and tzniut. Lest they say - this single woman what is she doing here let us oust her from our midst. I have tried to circumvent that from the start.
It is now after noon. Ive stuffed myself with 4 matzot, some lettuce and some cheese with onions. I had some alcohol and took a sedative. I have a big white Sefer Yetzirah that had had a segulah for Shemira in it - but someone spliced off. I see that as being symbolic. Nonetheless. I have others. I would have like my Sefer Yetzirah intact though. Without splicing. I am comforted by the Gra giving his notes and clarity to the writings. I need to understand what he trying to convey to me more thoroughly. I would like to be able to concentrate without fear for my life here.
And why am I here? I have moved 7 times since arriving in Israel in 04. From one war zone to the other - south to north to south again - going to places nobody else wants for all sorts of reasons - my reason being mainly affordability and away from too many neighbors. I need my open spaces. And so I've been in refugee mode now for all this time, alone on the road with my cats trying to correct, fix, move up and forward and find a place to put down some roots.
My garden is filled with containers, not daring to sow directly here in the soil - when I know this is not the place to call home. It is temporary housing. With all that entails. And like one of the terrorists said a few months ago as he was hurling stones then firecrackers at me *you're not welcome here.*
These are the Jews of the Achuzzam. And I will post the map here so that anyone out there of my tribe who would like to offer some support to me - can find me. While they still can. I am without a car, without means of transportation and other than Hashem Almighty - no protection. And I must see this as being a call for help to me from me to the world. See how we've fallen, so low, without remorse or conscience. See how we continue the sinat chinam - instilling fear and trepidation into the hearts of our brothers and sisters. And I am an orphan. And my wail will be heard and will reverberate throughout the universe till Hashem hears, judges and corrects this aberration. I cannot do more.
Erev Shabbat, Yom Sheni Pessach
Joy
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