July 2006

Note that I wrote this newsletter before the recent escalation in the North, otherwise – hence the jovial tone, which is very out of place at the time of sending.

Let’s get straight down to business. It's just a quicky today.

Clothes Elisheva knows
Elisheva (19 months) is a useful lass. With 3 male teenagers and 3 daughters our house requires full-time outsourced washeteria staff - but instead, Judy and I do it all. We wash and fold shacharit, mincha and maariv. Although all children are very different; their clothes aren’t, at least to the untrained I (sic). One pair of socks or shorts is much like another. What was once Orli’s is now Abigail’s, and who knows if a particular horrendous heavy metal sleeves-ripped-off T-shirt, proudly brought, after extended haggling, in the shuk for 12 sheks (down from 15), was the wild acquisition of Ari or Elon?

At this juncture, Elisheva, our damsel in shining armour, cometh to the rescue. She knows. She immediately and accurately identifies the owner of any garment: “Boom-Boom” (that’s Ari); “Noni” (Elon); “Wo-Wo” (Naphtali, or “water”, depending on the context); Arla (Orli); Ba-ba (Abigail) and, a recent addition to her expanding vocabulary “Me” (i.e. Elisheva). Abigail (4) is a great folder, especially of tea-towels. I wish there were more of them in the wash basket.

Born to Dance – 1, 2, 3
Of Orli’s (11) dancing career I have written in the past, and of her understudy Abigail (4). Orli’s portfolio thickens and her achievements pile up. Last week she was the star soloist in her troupe’s end of year performance – a moving story of the death of an Israeli soldier that left few dry eyes in the audience – performed in the presence of the bereaved parents. The third “born to dance” candidate is Ari (18), who, perhaps as a reaction to an over-booky two years, is taking some first steps in Salsa - a style that I think of, inaccurately, as a Brazilian form of the hora. He’s taught Orli and Abigail some of the moves, and they waddle and twist around the improvised dance floors of our abode with much enthusiasm and counting.

Well ain’t that the truth?
I made my living for many years from my way with words. Business writing and copywriting are both about manipulating meaning and embellishing or imprisoning truth to influence people to think a certain way. So who am I to complain about the lexical window-dressers who coined the term “percussion” to mean drums.

Music to his ears
You see, Naphtali (13) is learning “percussion”. The word percussion resonates of gentle xylophones, sonorous glockenspiels, shrill triangles and maybe the occasional finale of a cymbal crash. Ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to remove the blinders. “Percussion” means “drums”. Yes. Drums. Those whopping great big things that people bang on viciously and continuously to make ear-busting noise. Our beloved ‘percussionist”, Naphtali, has strong arms, and when those are tired, some very very hard wooden sticks that he uses to beat the hell out of his “tarbuka” drum. According to his teacher, Naphtali is a natural. He wants Naphtali to buy a full drum set so that he can “maximize his potential”. One day I may take pride in my son the lead drummer of a world-famous rock band; right now, give me ear-plugs.

Surprisingly, though, the drum drumming on the drum is the least of my problems. Drumming isn’t just a skill; it’s life-changing. Naphtali drums on his drum for maybe an hour a day; for the other 23 hours, he drums on everything else. The fridge, doors, tables, books. Whatever is in his vicinity, Naphtali drums on it. The noise of the drumming announces his presence or imminent arrival, like a cow-bell, and follows him everywhere, like the whiff of an over-applied aftershave.

We don’t need no education
Had the genius lyricist who penned the wonderfully memorable opening line of Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” lived today in the Land of Milk and Honey, he would probably have come up with “We don’t get no education”. I wonder to what extent the catch-phrase of a generation rebelling against a formalized structured educational system impacted ministry decision-makers to lead the school system to its current lows, where literacy and knowledge are reviled values, creativity is encouraged through cut and paste, and learning is a shared experience between parents and private tutors.

Sorry. Just ignore my rants and raves. All I wanted to tell you was that Ari and Elon did superbly well in their bagrut (matriculation exams) and we are very proud of them both.

Times of Change
4 of our 6 children are changing educational institutions this year. Abigail is moving to “gan chova”. Orli is graduating to secondary school, to the Ulpana here in Elkana. Elon’s school, that he has loved this year, is almost definitely closing down so he's looking for a replacement. Ari, who finished school this year will be attending “Ein Perat” in Kfar Adumim (see also the English site), which is a pre-army academy whose guiding vision is – and I didn’t make this up - “to catalyze a change in perception, behavior, and culture at all levels of Israeli society and the Jewish community in the Diaspora”. What exactly that means, I will communicate, PG, in future newsletters, if I ever find out.

It's late, so I have to go. l wish you all whatever one wishes when the nearest festivals in sight are the fast of Tammuz and the fast of Av.

Looking forward to hearing from you guys too, some day.

Michael, Judy,
Ari, Elon, Naphtali, Orly (with an “i” or a “y”?), Abigail and Elisheva
Isaacs.