We did not know what to expect. This was our first post-Corona hotel stay and we were apprehensive. We had booked two nights in our favorite go-to place, the Calistoga Spa. Calistoga, a little town, nestled in the Napa Valley holds a huge place in my heart. Calistoga is rich with memories of my youth. It is the only place we went to for family vacations when we were kids. For my parents, it was not far from San Francisco (around two hours depending if my father got lost), and we were guaranteed wonderful, usually hot summer weather. My mother’s goal was to get her little brood out of the fog belt of San Francisco, and we would get tan like browned chickens
We stayed at a no-frills resort, then called Little Village, for around $60 a week, running in to the same families every year. My mom did all the cooking and managed to make the best meals for us. The kids had a ball playing hide and seek and shuffleboard. We entertained ourselves with comic books and cut out dolls. The highlight of every afternoon was swimming in the huge geyser-heated public pool, Patchateau’s. We would trek over there through a field with prickly weeds holding our inner tubes. When we got to the pool, my mom paid the maybe fifty cent admission. She would coat us with Sea and Ski, and then we were off for a glorious afternoon playing and splashing in the tepid water. My dad would join us on weekends driving up from San Francisco on Friday afternoons. Those weekends were rejuvenating for him. He could look forward to taking a hot mineral bath in our own cabin. The sulphur in the water smelled like rotten eggs. In later years, Little Village put in their own pool which had cold water so we preferred swimming there in the heat which could reach over 100 degrees.
Jeff and I continued our family tradition and brought our children to Calistoga as well. We have also had some terrific times with our grandchildren there too. The magic is the same, lazy days in the swimming pool. Patchateau’s now is Indian Springs, very upscale and not open to the public as it once was, when it was a veritable international swim party on Sunday afternoons. We currently go to the Calistoga Spa, bring our own little barbeque and I manage to whip up great food in the tiny kitchen. When my grandchildren are there, I am like a short order cook making five different breakfasts from French toast to omlettes, to scrambled eggs.
at the Patchateau’s pool with my sister, around 1960
This time when we had made the reservation for the spa, we were almost reluctant to go with the new rules and restrictions. We could not arrive until 3pm where we had always been able to use the pool early in the day. We had to check out at 11AM where we had hung around the next day until maybe 2PM. Masks were required to walk around the resort though we did not need them in the pool area if we were sitting at a lounge chair. The rooms would be rather bare and no maid service available. The chairs around the pool would be spaced, and the rooms would be vacant the day before we came and the day after we left. Of course, the spa would be closed so no massages. We never did mud baths anyway, but an occasional massage was a special treat. Whew…this was the new reality, take it our leave it.
Initially we canceled then thought about it and said if we stay for two nights and bring most of our own food we will avoid the grocery store. We decided to give it a try. It was sad to see how many restaurants and businesses had closed in town. In some cases a favorite restaurant had moved out, and a new name had taken over the space. Calistoga had previously suffered the effects of the huge Napa Valley fires which spared the town thankfully but had also affected the tourist business. We walked around wearing our masks which was really strange and felt suffocating. We had dinner one warm night out at a patio restaurant with masked servers. It was a lovely creekside setting so it was pleasant.
One of our mornings I was out at 7AM getting us coffee and slipped off my mask. I breathed in the delicious air. This was the Calistoga I remembered. How do you describe the smell of a place? I don’t even know the right words, but that early morning took me back to how it had always been. We really enjoyed our two days there… lazily floating around in our noodles in the pools, reading and relaxing. It was good to get away from the constant barrage of scary news. The best parts of Calistoga are still the same, the sweet air, the total relaxation, the warm sun. We will go back again and pray for when we can be there without masks.
the upside down sign at this restaurant which was closed somehow felt like a metaphor for everything else…
Finally after two weeks I have emerged from the haze of jet lag. I wanted to write down my thoughts and impressions of our recent trip to Vienna and Israel. We took this trip to celebrate my oldest grandson, Shmaya’s, Bar Mitzvah in Jerusalem. Before we went to Jerusalem, our three grandchildren wanted to do some European travel and somehow we decided with the other grandparents, Wendy and Doug, that the three kids would fly to Vienna, and all the grandparents would spend five days there before flying to Israel.
I had found an apartment/hotel in the heart of the Jewish neighborhood recommended by the local Chabad house. It was a comfortable place, and we had arranged for the kids to have their own apartment and Doug and Wendy had theirs Jeff and I arrived first after flying to Munich then a short flight to Vienna. My first impression was this was an elegant city, clean and well cared for. This was confirmed when I saw how meticulous sanitation workers picked up trash. We arrived in the early afternoon and the children would arrive in the early evening. I got a text from them and they were on their way. I went down to the lobby to wait. It was a thrill to see them after a year. What is remarkable is when we are together, there is no distance, no awkwardness, just lots of hugs and kisses to catch up on. Technology keeps us close and it is the same for the other grandparents as well.
We had picked up dinner for the children from one of the kosher restaurants in the neighborhood. There were probably ten to choose from. It is a culture shock to see religious Jews on scooters, living their every day lives in a place where there were once Nazis parading down the avenues. I could almost close my eyes and imagine Nazi flags hanging from the older buildings. Religious children scampered by, young women in stylish wigs pushed strollers. We were also close to two kosher markets. One was small; the other reminded me of markets in Israel and had a bakery and restaurant where we had breakfast a couple of times.
We got the kids settled the first night and went to sleep. We took them on a Hop on Hop Off bus the first day to get an overview of the city and made several stops. The other grandparents would arrive in the afternoon. The kids couldn’t wait to go to the huge amusement park, Prater, which had a Ferris wheel that was over one hundred years old. The children had a joyous reunion with their other grandparents,(aka Zabah and Zeema), and they were game to take the kids to the amusement park already on their first night in Vienna. (Wow….they are amazing and we are blessed to share our kids with them!)
The next day I had arranged for us to have a private tour led by a guide of the Jewish historical sites and Holocaust memorials. The Judenplatz Historical Monument known as the nameless Library has books stacked together with their spines backward without handles on the doors. It is quite stunning. We walked around the area and visited the Stadttempel, a beautiful synagogue which was ironically spared during Krisstallnacht when all the other 93 synagogues were destroyed. It was built as part of an apartment complex and destroying it would have set the buildings it was attached to on fire.
However during our tour, I was starting feel yucky, and I was also not enjoying the hot weather, probably in the 90’s. I knew I was coming down with some sort of stomach virus. After the tour, I went back to our hotel and rested. We had plans to go to Chabad for dinner that night which was just a few minutes from our hotel. I was feeling well enough to go (I had tested myself for Covid which thankfully I did not have), and all of us went to Chabad for Shabbat dinner. There must have been 100 people there from all over for a typically wonderful, welcoming Shabbat feast. Jeff keeps insisting it was one of the best meals we had during our whole trip. We met the friendly Rabbi and were impressed at how well organized the dinner was. We had our own family table. Jeff and I left right after dinner but the kids and Wendy and Doug stayed longer for singing.
The Oakland Raiders and the Hospital Bill
The next morning I felt lousy and was concerned that I might need an antibiotic. We decided to go to a hospital which was close by, in walking distance. I am having a not very good record of getting sick during our travels as I also visited a hospital when I got Covid in Morocco last October. (yuck) Long story short, we got seen quickly. The doctor gave me a number of blood tests and some IV fluid. I did not have an infection (luckily) and basically had to wait out the virus which took about a week to get over. Two funny things happened which Jeff has made a highlight of the stories he tells about our trip. One, was when we were about to leave the hospital and wanted to get documentation and a bill to give to Medicare, the doctor told us our visit was NO CHARGE!! Jeff almost plotzed. This would never happen in the US to be treated and walk out without paying a cent! The other thing which was so funny was as we were leaving, the doctor asked where we were from. We said, “Oakland”, near San Francisco. She told us she is a big fan of the Oakland Raiders. That was really a kick, in the middle of Vienna, to find a doctor who knew about the Raiders. In fact, she played on a flag football team called the Oakland Raiders.
The next few days in Vienna, I managed as best I could, hoping to feel better, but my stomach was iffy. The weather was hot, hot, hot which also made it more difficult to do everything we wanted to do. My nephew Marcus joined us in Vienna and he took the kids to Prater one night where they stayed until one in the morning.( Nice to be young and be able to sleep in. )He also took them on a bike ride. While they were riding bikes, Jeff and I went to the Sigmund Freud museum which was the house where he lived and treated patients. Wendy took the three kids after the bike ride to a forest for zip lining and climbing. (She is the best grandmother!) One of our highlights was taking our granddaughter, Atara to a chamber music concert in a magnificent church. It was an experience. When we came out, the downtown area was packed with people, bustling with cafes and restaurants. We had not been in that area before so it was fun to see this hip part of Viennese nightlife.
Jerusalem, Traffic Jams and Skunk Spray
We left Vienna for Jerusalem Monday, July 24 with the three grandchildren. The other grandparents would stay in Vienna an additional two days. It was a short, three hour flight. Andy, my son in law, picked us up at the airport. He could take us, two of the kids but Atara, the oldest took the fast train from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem which only takes a half hour. He got all our luggage situated and we were enjoying our water bottles and his air conditioning. It was probably close to 100. We knew there were demonstrations after a vote which put limits on the power of the Supreme Court which was very divisive, but Andy thought he could bypass the potential traffic mess (or as they say in Hebrew, the balagan, which works for any mess. Despite his best intentions, we were right in the middle of it and our normally 40 minute ride took about 2 ½ hours. We managed OK with water and snacks. A poor woman had to abandon her car and hit the side of the road to relieve herself. Not a pleasant sight and my heart went out to her.
The demonstrators had blocked a major highway and getting in to Jerusalem was almost impossible. Finally the traffic started to move and we managed to get to our hotel. We were also greeted by the “skunk water” spray, a foul smelling odor that lingered in the hot air which had been used to disperse the crowds. Our hotel was nor far from the Begun Highway. This was not our most auspicious welcome to Jerusalem. I could not begin to discuss the complex issues which had Netanyahu fighting against a large portion of the population. I was sad to hear how this decision pitted Israelis against each other. I can only hope and pray that at some point there can be some workable compromise.
We stayed at the Wyndham Ramada which is a fifteen minute walk to where our kids live. They had made some nice improvements to the hotel including efficient elevators and the rooms were comfortable and spacious. There is also a big swimming pool with cool water which came in handy on the very hot days. Our daughter, Devora, came to the hotel. It was so wonderful to see her. It had been way too long as she had not come to the US last summer like the kids. We had a dinner with her in the lobby, a time to catch up and be together.
Staying at a hotel in Israel often includes a large buffet breakfast, Israeli style. What this means is tons of cheeses, a huge variety of salads, pastries, egg dishes, and everything else you can imagine. Jeff likes his simple breakfasts and is always searching for oatmeal. My stomach was still tentative and I ate very little. I can close my eyes and see the full tables of food with almost overwhelming choices. Unfortunately it was wasted on us.
We spent the next two days visiting with our family and at night had dinner with old friends from Oakland, Joel and Ruthi Ackerman. It is always fun to see them when we come to Israel. We had dinner at a restaurant we like, not far from the hotel, just one light rail stop away. We have become quite comfortable using the light rail which is close to the hotel and Andy gave us bus passes which make it a snap. You have to swipe your pass when you get in the car. There are inspectors which come by every so often and check if you have paid, and people get tickets all the time.
Building Building Everywhere
Jeff made an astute observation that Jerusalem will be unrecognizable in ten years, except for the old city. In our family’s neighborhood, Kiryat Moshe, as in many, many neighborhoods in Jerusalem, there is a tremendous amount of building and redevelopment going on. Many old apartment buildings have been knocked down, or in some cases they have been retrofitted, floors added on top, apartments remodeled. Families are paid to move out for several years until they can come back to a new apartment. There are different plans being implemented. The whole landscape of tired, worn out buildings is being renovated, and it will be a sparkling new city. There are huge cranes and building sites everywhere. Devora and Andy are not sure yet what will happen to their building. They don’t want to move but are waiting to see what will transpire in their neighborhood. There are also extensions to the light rail being constructed in several areas of the city so many major roads are a mess.
We were in Jerusalem during a difficult time as the city commemorated the holiday of Tisha b’ Av, (the ninth of Av)the saddest day of the Jewish calendar and a fast day which recalls the worst tragedies which have befallen the Jewish people. Andy and family fasted, though we did not. We decided it would be appropriate to go to Yad Va Shem, the holocaust memorial, on Tisha B’Av. We had been there several times before. Once again we were reminded of the worst inhumanity man is capable of which is stunning. We spent almost three hours going through the rooms and which document the history of Hitler’s rise to power, the lost communities, individual stories of survival . I was struck by a large youth group of American kids, having lunch ( obviously not fasting) outside on the patio of the building. Seeing them, their youthful exuberance, made me happy in the sense that Hitler did not win and we prevailed. I felt this emotion too when I was at the playground on Shabbat afternoon, and it was teeming with adorable screaming kids from large families.
After the holiday, it was full speed ahead for the Bar Mitzvah. Friday night the two sets of grandparents sponsored the Shabbat dinner in the Ramada hotel. We were a group of twenty five, and it was so special to celebrate this wonderful occasion together. Saturday morning we left the hotel with Doug and Wendy and excitedly walked to the Shapell yeshiva which was maybe ten minutes away. The Bar Mitzvah was in a chapel with the women in an upper room separated behind a curtain which we opened. Shmaya was a champ and read a long Torah portion and his haftarah flawlessly (and fast!) He essentially had been preparing for his Bar Mitzvah since he started school so chanting the Torah was almost second nature, but still required much preparation.
After the service there was a kiddush lunch and then in the evening we went to Devora’s and Andy’s place for the “third meal.” There was tons of yummy food and again the family had a chance to be together and catch up. Elana, my youngest daughter, and Saul and Bayla and Elijah, were there. Andy’s brother Seelig came in from Washington DC. My cousin’s daughter Kimberly and her family were there from Corta Madera, CA. My niece Julie and her husband Rusty who have been living in Jerusalem for the past three years were there with four of their children, their oldest was away. My nephew Marcus was representing his family and came in specially from Philadelphia. He was the “older” cousin and got pounced on and pummeled endlessly. Atara and Eliana are the proud sisters of Shmaya, and it was wonderful being with them and hearing about their active lives. Israel offers so many opportunities to teens. There are youth groups and Atara has assumed a number of leadership roles in a special organization called Krembo Wings, (named after the gooey marshmallow cookie) which is a youth movement that accommodates children with disabilities. She also regularly rides an ambulance for MADA, Mogen David and has become a docent at the Israel Science Museum. Atara led the family on an impromptu tour. Eliana has tons of friends and enjoys her youth group as well. She attends a boarding school outside of Jerusalem that she really likes.
On Sunday after the Bar Mitzvah, I had arranged for a tour of some of the highlights of the old city with expert tour guide Shulie Mishkin. It was fun shlepping around with her to some of the sites we had not seen before. We all had lunch in the old city. Jeff and I returned to the hotel for swimming in the pool and Bayla and Elijah joined us.
Monday morning Jeff and I met my cousin Rachel and cousin Celia who was visiting from New York. Rachel and her husband Nat have seven sons and thirty one grandchildren.( I’m not sure I could remember the names of thirty one grandchildren.) When I think of Rachel and Nat’s kids and grandchildren and now great grandchildren and add up all the other children and grandchildren who are descendants of, my grandparents, Etel and Nathan Bernstein who perished in the Holocaust it is a significant number. I am reminded of the scene at the end of Schindler’s list when all the families are gathered of those who survived. We had a lovely brunch in a café which is part of the Israel theater. It was great getting together and catching up.
The main Bar Mitzvah celebration was Monday night in the Jerusalem forest in a lovely room, almost like a lodge. There were family and a few friends, but most of the attendees were Shmaya’s buddies. One of the highlights was a drum circle led by the DJ which the kids (even the big kids like Jeff) really enjoyed. There was a yummy dinner and spirited dancing.
On Tuesday, following the Bar Mitzvah, our wonderful son in law, Andy, picked up our big luggage and took us to the bus so we could catch the correct line to Tiberias. We wanted to go somewhere where we had not been recently and also were planning on meeting a friend there. The bus ride was about two and a half hours. The hotel was lovely with a great infinity pool. We didn’t imagine how HOT it would be there…really unbearably, unpleasantly hot and humid which made us not want to do much of anything except stay in the air-conditioned hotel room or be in the pool. We did manage to meet our friend for dinner but didn’t stay long because it was not possible to walk around, even at night. The next day we thought we could beat the heat and got up early to walk. We were wrong. Even at 8 am it was impossible to walk around. We went back to the hotel for more cooling off in the pool. In the afternoon, we had hired a cab to take us to Sfad where we would meet up with Devora and Andy and Elana and family.
Hasids and drones
Sfad is a quirky, artsy, place, picture Sausalito. It is filled with galleries, many run by transplanted American hippies. The streets are crowded, and we stayed in an alley with the children and Marcus in a stone building. At first we thought, Oy Vey, but we adjusted and after we went to the market for some food to make for breakfast (French toast) we managed fine. Andy and his crew, Elana and Saul, Jeff and Marcus went to the Jordan river for a rafting experience. It was crowded with rafts as this was a very popular vacation time for Israelis besides tourists. Devora and I had some quiet time to ourselves visiting galleries and jewelry shops. We had lunch together in a courtyard. I treasured having this time with her. After the crew came back, everyone got ready to go for a dinner at a well-known grill restaurant. It was a challenge just getting out of Safed. The streets were packed, the roads narrow and cars can barely pass each other. I was fascinated by the Yeshiva we passed with lots of black coated students pouring out. This is a particular sect, the Breslov yeshivah, with distinctive frockcoats and flat hats. The boys all have curly earlocks and they could be transplanted from the nineteenth century. There are large Hasidic contingents in Safed as some famous Hasidic rabbis are buried close by. The Breslovs were blocking the street, and I looked up and there was a drone hovering over them, perhaps taking a picture. I wished I could have taken a photo but I was in the car. What perfect juxtaposition, the crowd of Yeshivah boys, old world, and the drone above them, new world.
We returned to Jerusalem for the final Shabbat. Devora had ordered amazing food for the weekend from a restaurant with a huge variety and had everything delivered. It’s so nice you can do that in Jerusalem! We had a restful Shabbat and after Havdalah had a cab pick us up and take us to the airport for our trek home. I wish I could have slept on the plane, but I never can. It took me almost a week to catch up. Despite the heat, the jet lag, the stomach virus, just being there for Shmaya’s Bar Mitzvah and getting to spend time with Atara and Eliana and of course their parents made it all worth it. I would recommend avoiding Israel in the summer if at all possible!
When we left on our long-awaited tour of Morocco we brought Covid tests along and even had cajoled our doctors in to giving us Paxlovid to take along just in case. We prayed of course we would not get Covid but unfortunately we did. Jeff probably started first though we did not test him in the beginning. He had a cough and cold symptoms, but it did not stop him from enjoying the tour. He thought it was just a cold and he did not feel bad. The only other problem was a funky stomach and not much appetite, but I had that too blaming it on the water or whatever bug we managed to pick up. We tried to only drink bottled water and were careful but many on our tour had similar upset stomachs so we just ate carefully and relied on Pepto bismol or Imodium.
We had taken it all in; the beauty of this fascinating country, learning about what was left of a once thriving Jewish population, visiting the old Jewish cemeteries and marketplaces, Roman ruins, craft workshops and a leather tannery in the Medina, and a workshop where ancient fossils were incorporated in to tables and other furniture. I enjoyed seeing the modern Arab women in colorful hijabs, with some women not wearing hijabs at all, hip and modern, but tolerated in this moderate country. Before I came I did not know how I would feel being in an Arab country, but I found the people we met were welcoming. There were wonderful contrasts in beautiful mosques with classic mosaics, as well as modern skyscrapers, a variety of boutiques and shopping malls, well kept roads and infrastructure. Perhaps the highlight for us was sleeping in a camp in the desert. It was definitely “glam” camping in a comfortable tent with electricity and a shower. For me, that was my perfect kind of “camping!”
We got to ride a camel, a one-hump dromedary if I am to be accurate. The camels politely bent to let us get up then with a whoosh stood up (I was holding on for dear life and making deals with my camel). Then we plodded along to a flat area near the dunes. We got off the camels and climbed up a sandy ridge in our bare feet where we watched the sky changing with sunset approaching. We sat on the ridge, posed for photos, as sunset overtook the skies. Unbelievably in the middle of nowhere I posted photos of the desert on Facebook! The golds of the sands, the purples of the changing horizon were unforgettable. Then we lumbered back on our camels back down to our tent camp. We gathered around a fire pit for a relaxing glass of wine then went to a tent for dinner and entertainment by local tribesmen with drums and chanting that got us up dancing.
Our days were filled with site seeing, also long bus rides some days, but we were always learning from our very knowledgeable guides while traversing the country from Casablanca to Rabat and Fez, through valleys and mountains to our final destination, Marrakech , a hip, modern city, with a massive public market with snake charmers and much to see. Friday evening in Marrakech we visited a packed synagogue filled with tourists, many Israelis, and had a lovely Shabbat dinner there just for our group. Jeff and I were both not eating much at the dinner with our yucky stomachs. We were doing OK though not feeling great. Little did I know the ordeal that was ahead of us.
The next day, I was really not feeling well and decided to leave the tour. Jeff had stayed with the group while I went back to the hotel and spent the day in and out of bed not knowing at first what was going on. I decided to use one of the Covid tests I had brought and test myself. I almost could not believe my eyes when I saw the telltale two lines. I called our tour guide who pulled Jeff aside and told him I had Covid.
This was the start of a very unpleasant bout with that nasty virus. The first thing we did was make arrangements to stay longer in Marrakech. We knew we could not leave when we were supposed to on Monday so we quarantined in the hotel. Jeff was also showing a positive test albeit his line was faint but we assumed he had Covid as well. My version of Covid was strange. I had no fever, body aches, very little cough. What I did have was extreme thirst on many days, fatigue, and the continuation of a funky stomach. All in all I felt really crappy. I felt so ill that I was sure I needed an IV for hydration. We decided to go to the emergency room at an international hospital in Marrakech luckily not far from our hotel. By the way, I had started the Paxlovid after calling my doctor in Oakland. However, I thought that it was making me feel even worse so I stopped taking it after a couple of days.
You can imagine how bad I had to feel that I wanted to go to the hospital. It was scary and intense but as soon as we walked in a young doctor who spoke passable English and was very sweet to me got me in a private room rather quickly. He ordered blood work to be done and concluded I was not de-hydrated despite my intense thirst. He gave me something for my stomach and after he looked at the blood work said we could leave. I was so grateful I did not have to stay in a foreign hospital. We stopped at a little store and bought a ton of drinks and went back to the hotel.
The next few days we stayed away from everyone in the hotel, sat by the pool in a lovely garden area. There was even a Kosher restaurant in the hotel, and we managed to share one dinner. Breakfast was always a buffet and we could sit outside, but I could barely eat anything or even stay long enough to eat. There were some moments I felt better and we would take a little walk outside. I had never felt so out of sorts except for my post chemo days. This was how I described to Jeff how I felt. Not good.
After five days of quarantining, we knew we had to get out of Marrakech and go home to finish convalescing. I had changed our flights to leave Thursday morning. I had to pay for flight changes but fortunately Air Maroc was able to get us on a different flight as did Jet Blue. Originally we were staying New York for three days after the tour, but that was of course was canceled. I decided we needed to stay in New York at least one night and break up the flight which turned out to be a godsend. Jeff was very worried about me on the long flight home, and I barely held it together not feeling well and drinking constantly. We spent the night at the Crowne Plaza near the airport which was very comfortable, and I really felt better on Friday morning for the last leg home. I thought I might be on the mend at last. I was fooled by this sneaky virus with its ups and downs and twists and turns.
We thankfully made it home Friday, but by Sunday I felt really bad again. We had called our doctor and decided I should go to the ER to be checked which I did. They gave me blood work and an EKG, and a chest Xray but I checked out OK. This time I did get an IV though technically I was not dehydrated. The kind ER doctor (I’ll talk more about him shortly) told me what I was going through was not atypical. We went home and by around the tenth day I tested negative. Jeff had already tested negative. I was still feeling out of sorts, anxious, some days thirsty, vulnerable, weak, not myself. I had moments when I thought I would not recover. This was not a good feeling. I refused to entertain the thought I had long Covid
Poor Jeff. I really put him through the ringer. He did not have to ask how I felt. He saw me looking strained and white. He fortunately was doing OK and returned to his volunteer work schedule. Everyone in the family was worried about me. My kids had brought over bone soup and chicken soup, and I tried various homeopathic remedies. I also took Advil off and on for inflammation. I think it helped somewhat. I felt well enough to go to shul one Shabbat. However by the afternoon that day I was yucky again. My stomach was not good. I even threw up. By the next morning we decided to go the ER again.
I turned out to have the same kind doctor as my previous Sunday visit. Once again I got an IV, blood work, and he even tested me for a blood clot. Again, he reassured me that what I was feeling was not unusual and I should just take advantage when I felt better to do things and when I needed to rest I should do that. He had seen on my records somehow that I had kids in Israel which launched a discussion about my kids there and his connection to Israel. Then on a whim I asked him if he was related to a dear friend of mine. I remembered she had a cousin who was an ER doctor. It was him! Then we were like cousins, and he told me I could text him with questions. The next day he called me to see how I was. I can’t express how his kindness and concern meant so much to me. A couple of times I texted him and he always reassured me.
Originally I was going to host twenty one for Thanksgiving and when I do this holiday, I go all out. I decorate my table with my collection of Thanksgiving tchotchkes, whip up my tried and true recipes and always add a few new ones I’ve found from perusing the internet. I make a lavish meal with all the trimmings, including two kinds of homemade cranberry sauce. My mom also embraced this holiday and this makes me think of her, and it is also my favorite also because it is right around my birthday.This year obviously there was no way I could host or do much of anything. I was so looking forward to my nephew Marcus who was coming from Philadelphia especially to hang with his cousins. He was going to stay at our house and he wanted to celebrate my birthday on Saturday. My brother was also coming in from LA to stay with us. Then all the plans shifted. My dear sister took over preparing Thanksgiving and we divided the group. Elana also hosted and had twelve at her house with Laurie and her family. I was able to help Linda with a few dishes. I was very grateful I could go and participate and felt pretty well.
Some of the group gathered at my house for a small birthday celebration on Saturday. I managed to do a lunch and we had cake and ice cream. Not everyone was there but we had a nice group. I was feeling relatively well, not completely myself but hopeful I was making real progress. It was a phone call on Saturday night when we started to get the news of the first Covid case in the family. Then the tsunami hit! By Monday, six members of the family had come down with Covid then two more later in the week.
OY vey! Just hearing that so many were sick was literally making me feel sick and really anxious. This nervous, vulnerable feeling was not like me. The good news was that my family took it all in stride and mostly had mild cases ranging from very light cold symptoms to some coughs. They started a hilarious Whats App group with cartoons, tips, commiserating with each other and, and kept everyone’s spirits up. There was a humorous discussion on the merit of jello molds which my sister makes (like my mom did) and my husband (maybe the only one in the family) really loves. My nephew put in a hilarious cartoon entitled, Thanksgiving 2023 with a man wearing a Hasmat suit.
This was all funny but maybe not so funny. Is this our destiny to be beleaguered by Covid with its new strains year after year? My brother in law came down with the flu so we had Covid and flu. Of course we don’t know where our family Covid originated. We thought perhaps from the Warrior game where some of the group went the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. My brother had flown in from LA. Who really knows? What we did learn is how contagious this virus is.
Finally, almost five weeks from starting Covid on a Tuesday, I started to feel like myself. It was almost like a switch was turned on. It is hard to explain feeling almost normal again but that day was a turning point for me. I felt less anxious and returned to exercising. Every day now I am still filled with gratitude remembering too well what I just endured. All we pray for is good health for 2023.
In their puffy parkas, knit hats, Babies bundled in strollers, bewildered toddlers in tow. Just ordinary people like you and me, Parents and old folk, neighbors and strangers, Teachers and plumbers, students and programmers. Gathered at train stations, huddled in subways, piling on buses, Clutching hastily-packed bags and wheelie suitcases, cellphones in hand. Did they think to grab a few family photos? Did they leave dinners on the stove, milk in the Frig? Laundry unfolded, beds unmade, pianos un-played, Half-finished math assignments scattered on kitchen tables? Birthdays not celebrated, weddings left undone, Normal pieces of life torn and scattered in the wind like confetti. Lives dismembered with each missile, each bomb, Wanton destruction of schools, hospitals and apartments Lives heaved and roiled, upended and destroyed, While the line of tanks keeps rolling, rolling, And the fathers kiss wives and babies, And the lovers leave behind hearts broken. Millions of souls becoming refugees, Labels they never dreamed they’d wear. And why, tell me why, someone tell me why? Who will answer for this latest aberration? Who will answer to the ordinary people in their puffy parkas?
In front of my living room window, on a splendid, sunny May afternoon, fat crow rapturously caws over its good fortune. I watch in morbid fascination as it tears apart a rodent. Can’t fault the crow, a natural predator. It studiously picks away at that small, hapless animal, guts torn, splayed. The next morning, not a morsel left, not even a bloodstain, I checked the street. Russia is tearing apart Ukraine without remorse, destroying homes, churches, schools, hospitals, disrupting millions, traumatizing the children, injuring and killing civilians, decimating infrastructure piece by piece, ripping away the guts and sinew of a once proud sovereign nation. Soon it too will be left without a morsel while the world watches from the window.
We had looked forward to our tour of Morocco for months. It was sponsored by Tiyul, a Jewish tour company in partnership with Lehrhaus Judaica, a wonderful educational institution which has been in Berkeley for years. We would be crisscrossing the country traveling long distances on our bus. I was excited about being somewhere totally different and immersed in the culture of an Arab nation, very different than our many comfortable trips to Israel.
Our group was made up of seniors like us, everyone very friendly. The group was prompt, courteous and we enjoyed getting to know each other when we sat at tables for meals and since most of the meals were included there was ample opportunity. Of course we played Jewish geography finding unexpected connections like a lovely woman I met who turned out to be the childhood neighbor of my son in law’s mom! We were fortunate to have Rabbi Peretz Wolf-Prusan and his wife Becki as participants. Peretz gave us insights throughout the trip which added to our perspective. Our tour leader was Ariel Goldstein who lives in Berkeley. He has led tours for years, several in Morocco, others all over the world from China, to Europe, to Uruguay, where he grew up, visiting more than thirty countries. Of course during the height of Covid he was not able to lead tours so he was glad to be back. Ariel speaks probably five languages.
Our native Moroccan guide, Aziz, also spoke five or six languages. (I was in awe hearing him change languages so effortlessly.) Aziz is a scholar and was able to frame the Jewish history of Morocco which goes back hundreds of years. He was a Berber, an indigenous group within Morocco with its own language and cultural traditions. I wish I could remember all the things he taught us. He was so informative and constantly spoke to us as we went along in the bus. He also helped get us the best deals when we bought stuff such as the carpet store or jewelry. Our tour started in Casablanca and continued on for miles through the country. There were several days of really long bus rides but there was no way to avoid that. The bus was comfortable and the scenery ever changing from flat lands to the Atlas mountains, passing vast river gorges, to a Swiss-like mountain resort, Ifrane, to exploring Roman ruins in Volubilis.
Our favorite stop was the Sahara Desert where we stayed in a fancy tent camp. To get to the camp, we went off-road for an unpaved stretch which was bumpy and rough. When we got to the camp, the individual tents were scattered around. The dunes, rust and orange, stretched out in the distance, endless and magnificent. The tents were my kind of camping, with a shower, electricity and mostly comfortable bed. We gathered for our camel ride. Our camels, were with a handler, holding the camel who was tamely kneeling down ready for us to climb up. I did an appropriate “prayer” for getting on a camel and not falling off. The trick was to hold on tight for the big forward dip when the camel stood up. It was a little scary. Then our handler led us up a hill for about a twenty minute plodding ride.
I told my camel to behave and he did. The camel was a dromedary with one hump. After we reached the top of a sand ridge, we lumbered off and climbed further up a low hill in the sand to top of a rise. We were able to see the sun and sky changing to golden hues as twilight approached. It was a moment I’ll never forget. We then went back down to the camp, gathered around a cozy fire with drinks, then went to a central dining room for dinner. After dinner there was entertainment by drummers who got us up to dance.
Some of the other highlights were going to the medina to see the leather dying vats and learn the process of producing leather goods. I bought a snazzy pink leather jacket. It was so unique, I could not resist! During the week we saw other workshops, a carpet store, a pottery workshop where mosaics were put together, a date market, and a cooperative where women made products containing Argan. We went to a site where ancient fossils are mined and used in tables. These fossils are 400 million years old. I brought an embedded fossil home for my grandsons.
We saw very old Jewish cemeteries in Fes, the remnants of synagogues, and Jewish schools. We had a lovely Shabbat dinner at a synagogue in Marrakech which was packed on Friday nights with tourists who knew distinct Shabbat melodies. I was fascinated by the fact there were busloads of tourists from Israel. Since the Abraham accords, many Israelies are going to Morocco. In some instances, it is a kind of heritage tour since their families came from Morocco. Before the trip, I wondered how I would feel in an Arab country and was pleased to feel very comfortable. The people I came across were friendly. The women were attractive, many in colorful hijabs. Some women did not wear hijabs at all. It seems like there was tolerance for different expressions of religiosity. I did not see too many women totally covered in black. I often heard the call to prayer. Our tour guide explained the key precepts of Islam which was fascinating to me.
In general, the roads were well paved and litter free. The infrastructure seemed to be in good condition. I did not see homeless and there were few beggars. There is a fascinating blend of ancient and modern. We saw old Mellahs, the remnants of the Jewish quarter. Mellah means “salt and it was where the Jews lived and traded centuries ago. We were in Fes, Rabat, Meknes, and other stops. Our last stop was Marrakech, really a beautiful, elegant world-class city. We were in a lovely hotel, the nicest of any we had stayed in with a beautiful pool area. There was even a kosher restaurant in the hotel which was fun for me to see and Shabbat services. I loved seeing the acceptance and welcoming of observant Jews in a Muslim country. It shows me that there can be coexistence between Arabs and Jews.
Marrakech is where things got interesting. Despite being up to date in our Covid vaccines, we got sick at the end of the trip. Jeff’s version was a cold and cough. I started to feel unwell on the last Saturday and did not do anything with the group. By the evening, I was feeling really crappy and tested. We had brought tests and even Paxlovid. I tested positive for Covid. We weren’t sure about Jeff, but he did have it. Oy vey, what we really had not wanted to happen when we were away had become a reality.
We knew immediately we would have to stay longer in Marrakech. I managed to change our reservations to leave after a five day quarantine. The hotel was a nice place if you had to stay inside. I could take the stairs to get down to the pool area. Breakfast was outside so I wasn’t near anyone. One of our symptoms was having no appetite. We could barely eat for days. I learned everyone’s version of Covid can be different. Jeff had the cold and cough. I felt sick, really sick with an unquenchable thirst. I took Paxlovid but I felt it was making me feel awful and stopped taking it. I felt so bad we even went to the local hospital. That was an experience, but they took good care of me. The doctor spoke passable English and gave me basic blood work. I was OK, and though I was sure needed an IV, he did not want to do it.
Somehow masked, we made it home, spending the night in New York after our flight from Casablanca which was a lifesaver. I actually felt better on the last leg of this long journey. Covid has been difficult and tricky for me. I have had several days of feeling better only to be down the next day. I have been to the ER twice. OY. However, thankfully I finally feel I am on the road to recovery.
Despite the not ideal ending of our trip, I want to remember all the good parts; what we learned and observed, the friendly people we met on our tour, the beauty of the country and the unforgettable camel ride and desert experience.
Having been in Jerusalem for almost a week, I wanted to jot down some of my impressions of this pulsing, vibrant city, probably one of the most unique cities in the entire world where modern life strives against ancient history and often crumbling infrastructure. Now in 2022, there is construction visible everywhere in Jerusalem, big cranes, workmen on scaffolding, hammering, trucks passing with building materials. My son in law, Andy, told me about some of the current big projects like extending and expanding the current light rail, and adding new light rail lines. It feels like one big construction project everywhere you look. Thousands of apartments are being added as there is a major housing shortage they are addressing. Some are new buildings, others are projects adding floors to existing buildings. My family and their neighbors are holding out that they can keep their building as is, but all around them there are pending projects and developers would like to take their building and remodel it.
We arrived here before Purim, a fun holiday of wearing costumes, sending gifts of food to friends and neighbors (think Halloween times twenty), hearing the Purim story in synagogues and many parties with lots of drinking (part of the Purim tradition!) The country really lets loose on this holiday. Jeff and I had a ball going to the shuk, the open air market in Mahane Yehudah on Purim. You could see costumes worn by children and adults, and we wore the costumes we brought in our suitcases which were playing cards, the King and Queen of Hearts. For some reason, these costumes are a huge hit in Israel (we wore them previously here), and we were surrounded by photographers taking our picture (our fifteen minutes of fame!!) We were stopped along the street where people wanted to pose with us and take our picture, and it was so much fun. I had to buy my favorite halvah in the shuk, and as usual bought way too much. When they cut a wedge for you, you don’t realize that it is huge. The good news is that it lasts forever so I ration out a little piece every day.
Two other unexpected events happened. First when we arrived we found out our middle, sweet granddaughter had just tested positive for Covid. OY….that was news we did not expect to hear at the airport when our son in law picked us up. The good news is that she has been virtually symptom free, and we were fortunate we had booked a close by Air B and B so we were not in their place. That was really crucial, as as hard as it was, we had to keep our distance. She is doing better and testing negative in time for us to go to Eilat together tomorrow.
The other unusual event is that the weather has been unusually COLD, in the thirties and forties. We had been following the weather before we came and threw in warm jackets which we really needed and hats, gloves and scarves. This has been a once in a hundred year cold spell. (Just our luck!!) Even when we go to Eilat tomorrow, it will be warmer, but not the usual very warm weather we were hoping for. We have come to realize that we have to go with the flow and can’t control Covid or the weather.
The place we have been renting has been comfortable and convenient. There are always a few glitches to understand the Israeli systems for heat, hot water, getting the TV to work, etc. However, we would definitely stay here again.
We have been able to see old friends, Joel and Ruthi Ackerman, Bill Taeusch, and Marilyn Neril. We saw my cousins Nat and Rachel who have created a dynasty here, with seven sons now all married and have THIRTY grandchildren and recently three great grandchildren. Could your remember the names of thirty grandchildren?? That would be a test for me not to mention keeping track of birthdays.
I have spent some precious time with my adorable niece Julie and her beautiful family. Julie and Rusty were going to be here for a year, and now they are going on year three. Their four kids are thriving and have adapted to Israeli life like troopers despite all the turmoil with the pandemic. The best part of their time here is that Julie and Rusty had a baby, their fifth, Miri, who is a little doll. Julie and I spent a wonderful morning having brunch while Miri slept like an angel.
We have been to the Kotel, (the Wailing Wall) which is always an emotional experience. It was crowded with tourists. We had a great tour at the Shalva building which provides care for children and adults with disabilities. It is an amazing place, so colorful with two swimming pools, a gym, art studios, a café where disabled adults work. One of the special features is that children who go there after their regular school programs participate in a weekly overnight at the facility. This teaches the children independence and they learn life skills. It provides a much needed respite for the parents as well. We are proud to be supporters of this wonderful organization and appreciated the tour we received.
We are looking forward to catching up more with our grandchildren in Eilat. Israel is so great for children. They learn to be independent, have more freedom, wonderful opportunities, youth groups and great programs, can take a bus at night to go somewhere (yes, that is hard to believe). This is a country dedicated to their children. Our oldest granddaughter is in a boarding school in Jerusalem, takes college classes in high school, volunteers in a special organization which helps disabled kids, rides an ambulance. That’s just for starters. She is very busy. Eliana, our middle granddaughter, will go away to school for high school also boarding, but her school will away from Jerusalem. She will take a bus to her school (an hour and a half out of Jerusalem) spend four nights a week there and three at home. Our youngest grandson really likes his youth group as well and starts a new school next year (fortunately close by.)
Jerusalem is amazing as always, unique, stressful; all of the above. We are very comfortable here enjoying the hospitality of our kids despite the unplanned Covid stuff. We are now pros at using the light rail which is very convenient to where we are staying. Sometimes it is frustrating to locate an ATM machine. Spending shekels is still like funny money to me. You can buy everything you need, and there are many yummy bakeries including French bakeries.
Next stop Eilat… looking for a little sun for the next few days!!
This essay appeared in Burningword Literarary Journal, Issue 101, Jan. 2022
Dear Mrs.,
This is a note to say I’m really sorry I peed on your green suede boots, your favorites. I hope you’re not still mad. I know you had to throw them in the trash because the smell doesn’t go away, and I’m in real big trouble.
I’ve decided to come clean, tell you the truth why I did it. I just hate when you take me to the vet. First you put me in that tight cardboard carrier and it makes me very nervous. I get carsick on the way to the vet and that’s not fun at all. And Dr. Braun always wants to check me, and he has bad breath. And the food…It is really yucky there. They don’t have my favorite albacore tuna, and I feel very confined and my claustrophobia acts up something fierce. You know I get anxious when I hear the dogs barking in the other part of the building.
I need my space to roam in the yard and cruise in the house. After all, I have my favorite places where I take my beauty naps. I love when the sun shines through the patio door and warms me up on the red velvet sofa. I have my scratching chair and I have to watch the neighbors from the living room window. Somebody’s got to do it. I love being able to jump on your bed and cuddle in the morning until you get up and get me my breakfast.
You’re right. These are all excuses and I should not have peed, but the truth is I get really sad when you and Mister go away. As soon as I see your suitcases coming out of the closet, I start to hyperventilate. I know Dr. Braun suggested Valium for me but I agree it might be better if he prescribed it for you.
I resolved to take an anger management class and I promise, promise, promise, I’ll be a much better kitty. Please give me another chance, but promise you won’t go away and leave me at the vet any more. And just for future reference, I prefer Chicken of the Sea Albacore.
Love is…Walkin’ together, Talkin’ together, Singin’ together, Prayin’ together… Talkin’ about the power Al Green
In the immortal words of Al Green, in his sexy song, Love and Happiness, he talks about love. What is love anyway? Forever through all ages, philosophers and poets, writers and artists have been trying to define love. I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’m a bit of an authority and can write about love with some measure of confidence. Why? Summer, 2021 marks my fiftieth wedding anniversary. Just think of it. Fifty years married to the same person, and we still love each other deeply. That is a milestone not too many couples reach, especially these days. How did we do it? How did we get this far? We traversed a long road with its share of detours, bumps, and obstacles, but we managed to navigate through all of it. Maybe the key in the words of Al Green is getting through it all “together.”
So let’s go back to the June night we met. It was at a Jewish singles party, a Blue Monday event in San Francisco at a club in North Beach. I bugged my older brother to take me. I was supposed to be twenty one, but I was only nineteen. I liked “older” guys. I was a junior at UC Berkeley, but I could pass for twenty one. I had ashy blonde hair to my shoulders, wore a polyester black and white pants outfit (polyester was big in 1970) and looked pretty cute. I was tall and hated dancing with shrimpy guys whose nose came up to my boobs.
Somehow I turned around, and there was a tall guy (OK check that off my list). He had black glasses, dark brown curly hair, and I noticed his sweater had a tear on the sleeve. (Hmmm…) He asked me to dance, and of course I said yes, torn sweater and all. I think it was to the Youngbloods. Turned out he did not want come that night and had been coerced by his friend with dinner in Chinatown at their favorite restaurant. He borrowed money from him to buy me a drink. Despite this somewhat inauspicious first impression, we hung out, danced and talked, and he arranged for his friend to drive me home. When he walked me up the stairs at my parents’ home, we ran right in to my father just coming home from a synagogue board meeting. They shook hands. Somehow they liked each other from that brief encounter.
That night was the beginning for us and in retrospect it was “bashert” or destined. We started dating but then after just a few dates I went away to a summer leadership institute, and he went to his Army reserve training. This was during Vietnam and as a reservist, he had to go for training in the summer. We wrote during our six week separation. These were the days of no email of course. Those silly cards and sweet letters kept the fire we had just ignited burning, and we got back together as soon as we returned. It did not take long. We dated, met each other’s families, and got to know each other all rather quickly.
What was it that made us “fall in love” and get engaged by September after being together for just a few months? I think of the words of a favorite educator of mine who used to say, “You don’t Fall in love, you Rise in love.” I believe that sentiment is still so true. It did not take long, and he was all I thought about. We were crazy about each other. We went out with his parents to see a musical, Promises Promises. He brought me home to my apartment in Berkeley, and before I knew what was happening we made our own promises to each other to spend our lives together and we got engaged that Saturday night.
What drew us together? First there was physical attraction, an important ingredient. You have to find each other sexy and be compatible in that department. Sexual attraction is the cherry on top of the sundae. It is certainly not enough to sustain a relationship but it is very important.
Then there was an underpinning of important values we both shared. Shared values are like a foundation of a building. It is what you build on. We shared the same religion, and though my background was more observant it didn’t matter. We were both close to our families and honored our parents. Trust and honesty were a given, and we never wavered in believing in each other. We were and still are best friends.
We loved to laugh and have fun together. We have not stopped doing that over all these years. We were kind to each other. We never said mean, hurtful words. Those are words you can never take back. It’s not to say we don’t have disagreements and know how to push each other’s buttons. For example, he gets annoyed when I buy food that we already have in the pantry. He always says, “take inventory.” I can’t stand when he leaves cabinet doors open like a trail after himself. That’s all little stupid stuff. The bottom line is, we respect one another and build each other up. We admire each other for our strengths, and accept our weaknesses and shortcomings. We each have our interests and don’t have to be together all the time.
Love is so many things. Love is when he stayed by my side through my cancer diagnosis and treatment, bringing me to every chemo session. Love is when I never left his side for the six weeks he spent in the hospital when he was recuperating from complications from bypass surgery. Other couples might have cracked and faltered. We got stronger. Love is sharing the joy of our children and grandchildren. We still say “I love you” at night before we go to bed. We still kiss and hold hands. He still tells me I am beautiful, despite my lines and gray hair which he apparently doesn’t see. We don’t make each other wait if we are meeting at a certain time . I am still excited to see him. Al Green got it right. “Love is…” the power.
Joanne Jagoda 