Digital Detox

Tags

Amazon, facebook, Le Figaro, Mako

 

 I saw the article in one of the glossy weekend supplements that comes with the French newspaper ‘Le Figaro’ which I try to read while I’m on vacation in France. The photography is beautiful, the articles intelligent, and it’s good for my French (I read it with the aid of a dictionary). As the house we are staying in has no TV this is our principal way of keeping up with what’s happening in the world outside (don’t tell me to listen to the news on the radio. French radio newsreaders and reporters gabble away unintelligibly, scarcely pausing for breath even between paragraphs, let alone sentences and words).

The picture at the top of the article (shown above) portrays a demure young lady sitting on a hotel bed. The balloon over her head shows that she is thinking: ‘Vichy by night, without a TV or a smartphone. I’m going to write about this on Facebook!’ The article describes in detail the agonies the poor dear went through in order to write an article about her experiences during a weekend of ‘digital detox’ prescribed for her to overcome her addiction to the various electronic means of communication. Some books were provided, but the rest of the time she was thrown back on her own resources for passing the time (spa, swimming pool, dining room, etc.), poor thing.

I felt a passing pang of pity for the unfortunate journalist, never fearing that I would soon be sharing her fate, although without the luxury hotel.

Being away from home and family at a time when there is a full-scale war on is an unsettling experience. One doesn’t want to belabour the point, but maintaining contact with one’s loved ones and learning about what’s going on assumes paramount importance, and so one finds oneself checking emails, news sites, Facebook, etc. with almost insane intensity and frequency.

And then, for a variety of technical reasons, we suddenly found ourselves without internet or phone connection. We have learned to live with the occasional electricity cuts occasioned by thunderstorms, which are quite frequent in this part of France. But those cuts usually last a few seconds, minutes, or even hours. They never go on for several days.

Suddenly, without warning, we were cut off from the outside world. No internet. No Mako. No Facebook. Not even Amazon. And no phone line either, because the phone goes via the internet provider. We, too, were thrown back on our own resources, and found ourselves paying closer attention to the French-language news broadcasts and in the interim consoling ourselves with books, or venturing to the next village in order to pick up the internet connection in the local café. The only small corner of redemption was provided by our iphones, which allowed us minimal contact with the world outside.

When we phoned to find out what was happening we were told that the problem would be solved within a week at the most. ‘A whole week!’ I screamed at the nice (English-speaking) lady at the other end of the phone line. ‘That is very hard for us.’ I didn’t go into all the details as to why this was so, but I begged her to do whatever she could to expedite matters. She said there was very little she could do, but she would add a note to our file.

In my desperation I had resorted to watching half an hour or so of a DVD I had brought along with me (a beautiful old film, ‘Stavisky,’ directed by Alain Resnais) every evening. And so, after supper on the fourth evening, which also happened to be the evening of the day on which I had spoken to the nice lady at the information section of the internet provider, when I had just settled down to watch my evening ration of ‘Stavisky’ (based on a true story, incidentally) the cry went up from the other room, ‘We have internet!’

Was it a coincidence or had my pleas helped? Worse still, what is one to do in such cases? Drop everything and fly back into the (metaphorical) arms of email, Facebook, Mako and co. or continue watching ‘Stavisky’? I made a half-hearted attempt to watch Stav. while simultaneously looking at my emails. As anyone could have guessed, that didn’t work.

But after a briefer than usual episode of Stav. I allowed myself to indulge in a cup of (decaffeinated) coffee and then devote myself to catching up with all my old friends until well past midnight.

So much for digital detox. I hope it worked better for the poor lady journalist than it did for me. But at least she got her byline on her two-page article in ‘Figaro.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time Out

  

It’s an occupational hazard of living in Israel. You live your life, make vacation plans, and then there is a crisis. At first you don’t know how long it will continue and what shape or form it will assume. So you carry on as usual, as best you can, and when the date for your departure arrives you go to the airport to catch your flight, assuming – or rather hoping – that the current crisis will soon die down, as has happened so many times in the past.

But while you are on your way to your destination the crisis grows and grows, so that you find yourself on holiday reading newspapers in a language you barely understand, listening to news broadcasts in the hope of catching one tenth of their meaning, and spending ever-increasing amounts of time on the internet and Facebook, gleaning what you can.

 For any Israeli, but especially one with family members in the fighting forces, being away from home at times like these is especially hard. How are you supposed to relax and enjoy yourself when you’re worried about how your loved ones – as well as everyone else – are faring? You identify with everyone undergoing rocket attacks, with every soldier on the ground, at sea, or in the air, and weep at every fallen hero, those smiling young faces which will never smile again, and whose untimely deaths have plunged their families into endless grief.

You also are concerned about the massive loss of innocent lives in Gaza. Yes, it’s their own fault for submitting to the cruel rule of the Hamas (as if they had a choice), and for their rulers’ obstinacy in continuing to fire rockets at our own innocent civilians, for building tunnels of destruction and mayhem instead of shelters and hospitals, and for refusing to accept a ceasefire. But still, no one rejoices when children suffer, wherever they may be and whichever nation they belong to.

 And so there you are, in an island of tranquility in a foreign country that last experienced conflict seventy years ago. The food is good, the weather clement, the atmosphere pleasant, you meet charming people and enjoy everything that life has to offer. But that is constantly overshadowed by your concern for what is happening at home.

 Somehow, you persuade yourself to get the most out of these weeks away from the conflict and the tension, and you almost succeed.

 But then, without warning, the foreign radio station which is constantly on because it is officially the one that broadcasts classical music (even though that is not always the case) plays the full kitsch Broadway version of Shalom Aleichem’s Yiddish classic, ‘Tevye the Milkman,’ and you break down in tears.

 This is something that would never happen if I were back in Israel, and can only be explained by my feelings of guilt and anguish at being far away from home at this sensitive time.

 Even the most hardened cynic, such as I like to consider myself to be, must be allowed a moment of soppy sentimentalism at a time like this, I suppose.

 

Pogrom Night 1938: A Memorial to the Destroyed Synagogues of Germany; Synagogue Memorial, Beit Ashkenaz, Jerusalem, Israel

Tags

Cologne, Kristallnacht, Prof. Meir Schwartz, Sprottaum Malcolm Hoenline, Wolfgang Ischinger

 I literally trembled with emotion when I held the two volumes of this monumental work in my hands. Together they comprise over seven hundred pages which are packed with information about the more than one thousand synagogues and prayer rooms that existed in pre-WWII Germany and were burned, destroyed, pillaged or plundered on the night of November 9^th 1938 which was given the derisive designation of Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass, by its Nazi perpetrators.

 The book contains concise texts giving the history, dates and vital statistics of each synagogue and community, and in many cases these are accompanied by photographs of the way the place looked before and sometimes after November 9, 1938. The work is, in fact, an encyclopaedic account of the life and times of the many Jewish communities that once existed in Germany, as it was defined by its 1937 borders. On a personal note, my heart lifted when I saw that what was once the small town of Sprottau in Silesia, the birthplace of my mother and today known as Szprotawa in Poland, is included.

 The inside cover of the book shows a map of Germany on that fateful day. The map is in gray and is studded with tiny dots of white, giving the impression of innumerable spots of light. These denote the places where synagogues or prayer rooms existed and were destroyed or attacked that night. In one startling and concise graphic image the reader grasps the full extent of the tragedy of the Jews of Germany.

 Forewords have been written by Wolfgang Ischinger, the former German Ambassador and now Global Head of Germany’s Allianz Group, and Malcolm Hoenline, Vice-Pesident of the Conference of Presidents of American Jewish Organizations, both of whom contributed funds to support the project. But the main contribution and acknowledgement belongs to Professor Meir Schwartz, who instigated the project and has brought it to its final realization over the course of the last twenty years.

 Professor Schwarz, who was born in Nuremberg in 1926, was sent on his own to what was then Palestine at the age of nine. In his professional career, becoming a world-renowned expert on hydroponics, Professor Schwarz helped to make the desert bloom, both in Israel and elsewhere, thus providing sustenance to many millions.

 In his foreword to the book, Professor Schwarz relates that when he visited the town of his birth he found that the memory of the former Jewish community had been all-but erased. This was in 1988, when he happened to be in Germany attending an international biology conference. The local officials he spoke to had no knowledge of the synagogue that had once existed there, although Professor Schwarz remembered being present as a child and seeing it with his own eyes as it burned.

 Thus it was that in 1988 he determined to set the record straight and create a memorial for all the synagogues that had once existed, forming the focal point of the Jewish communities that had once flourished throughout Germany. In the larger towns there were generally more than one synagogue, and these are all commemorated, as are even the tiny steiblach and prayer rooms that existed in the smaller, rural communities. Contrary to general belief, there were many Jews who lived in far-flung towns and villages in Germany, in Jewish communities that often consisted of just a handful of families.

 Volume 1 also contains an extensive illustrated introduction relating the history of the Jewish community of Germany in considerable detail, with particular emphasis on that of Cologne.

 Many people helped to bring this immense project to fruition, and the undersigned is proud to note her own small contribution as author of some of the texts. However, without Professor Schwarz’s guiding hand and powerful vision the book would never have come into existence. Having worked in the past as the editor and translator of publications put out by Israel’s central bank, I can appreciate how much care, time and effort has been put into the production of this complex, comprehensive and above all beautiful work.

 These two volumes constitute a treasure-trove of information and will undoubtedly stand as a resounding achievement as well as a lasting memorial to the once-glorious Jewish communities of Germany.

 

The Situation

Tags

kidnapped Israeli teens, murdered Palestinian boy

 

 

One hesitates to write anything about what has been happening in Israel over the last few weeks, and what is still happening. The situation is volatile, in every sense of the word, and what is true at one moment may not be the next.

 But things have happened, and perhaps it is legitimate to comment on them and try to get some kind of perspective on them. The kidnapping and murder of the three Israeli teenagers was an atrocious deed, whichever way you look at it. If the same fate was meted out to the Arab teenager, that is equally atrocious. All criminals must be punished and that includes the perpetrators of both those crimes.

 But whether crimes committed in the name of one nationality or another justifies mass demonstrations, rioting and a general rampage of violence is another matter. When a mob runs amok, calling for revenge, causing damage to property and endangering the life and limb of innocent members of the public one has to ask oneself what values have been inculcated into these people?

 Some Jews, and Israelis among them, like to consider themselves morally superior to others who do not adhere to their values. After all, they contend, it is Jews who were the first to adopt a monotheistic religion and introduce a code of law. According to the historical and archaeological evidence, this is not entirely true, but the nations with whom these ideas originated (Sumerians, ancient Egyptians) are no longer around to stake their claim. The Jews and their texts have survived.

 So who are the people comprising the mobs? On the one hand there are the Arabs living under Israeli rule. The general view is that one expects no better of them; they adhere to a creed that preaches violence, their religion is a mongrel offshoot of others, and their culture is one of vengeance. That, too, is not entirely true, but it is the popular idea, and one cannot deny that the internecine violence currently being unleashed in the various countries of the Middle East bears this out – at least to some extent.

 On the other side there are strident voices among Jews calling for vengeance, both on the various social media and in mobs that were hastily formed and shouted slogans that echoed the most primitive and violent ones yelled by the Arabs. Essentially, that puts us all on the same footing, with each side being equally misguided and unable to act responsibly.

 The family of the murdered Israeli boys displayed admirable restraint and high moral integrity throughout, and one of them even condemned the murder of the young Palestinian. But certain elements in Israel seem to be intent on stirring up sentiments that clash with the basic values of Judaism – tolerance, forbearance and acceptance of the other (remember the commandment to love thy neighbor as thyself?).

 In the present state of affairs no one is any better than anyone else, and encouraging people to behave like Neanderthals spells disaster for us all.