White Bosch kitchen mixer on countertop.
Uncategorized September 9, 2011

Negativity in the Blogosphere

I’ve discovered that there are four types of bloggers:

1. Professional bloggers, who blog about their industry: computers, law, crafting, running.
2. Personal bloggers: blogging about a personal journey such as marriage, conversion, raising a special needs child.
3. Sporadic bloggers, who occasionally muse on whatever.  Nothing formal here.
4. Negative bloggers, who blog to spew, vent, and dis, expose, and stir up the pot.

I find this final category extremely disturbing.

I am by nature a positive person.  I know there are negative things to be encountered in this world, and I avoid them like the plague.  I hope I am like my grandmother, who was dealt a pretty rotten hand and has the warmest heart full of faith.  (Not the rotten hand part.)  I associate with wholesome people and look for the good whenever possible.  Not because I’m special, but just because that’s my orientation.

But now that I’ve become a part of the blogosphere, I am encountering that negativity.  People whose every online encounter is loaded with negativity.  Ewww!  I’m allergic.  It almost makes me want a divorce from the blogosphere.  It’s disturbing.  It haunts me.  I can’t sleep at night.

What to do?

Book cover: Conversations with God by Ruchi Koval.
Uncategorized September 8, 2011

So, How Did You Guys Meet?

April, 1993.  Jerusalem.

I am 18 and studying in seminary in Israel.  I have never had a boyfriend.  It is Friday during the holiday of Passover (Pesach) and I am at my aunt’s house.  I call my parents to wish them a good Shabbos, and my mother asks me if I am sitting down.  I sit, then say yes.

Mom: Someone approached me to ask if you would be interesting in dating while in Israel.
Me: Whaaaat?
Mom: It seems the Koval boy is in yeshiva in Israel right now and was suggested for you.
Me: But-but I’m still in seminary.
Mom: Why don’t you think about it?

Explanation:
Most Orthodox girls “start dating” for marriage when they return from their year/s in Israel.  Unless she’s not ready, a girl’s parents will start fielding suggestions from friends or relatives who “know someone” – ie, their neighbor, cousin, nephew.  My case was unusual because the guy was my neighbor and our parents were friends, so his mother basically suggested the idea to my mother, whereas typically a middle-man or woman is involved to minimize the awkwardness if one party is disinterested.  These are not “arranged marriages” – the dates are arranged, and not dissimilar from a classic blind date, and the marriage itself must be entirely consensual after getting to know one another.  Parents typically do a rather thorough background check, talking to neighbors, relatives, teachers, roommates.

My thoughts:
I’m not ready for this.  This is so exciting!  I’m not ready for this.  How cool is this!  Am I ready for this?  The Kovals are really special people.  Are you ever truly ready for this?

April, 1993.  Jerusalem.

The holiday is over.  I call my mother.

Me: So, what’s going on with the Koval situation?
Mom: Well, they are definitely interested.
Me: But I can’t go out while in seminary.  That’s too weird.  And everyone in the dorm will know!  I think we should wait till after finals.

Explanation:
Seminary is a time to focus on spiritual growth and textual knowledge.  I wanted to close one chapter before opening another.  It helped that seminary offered philosophical lectures and practical advice on dating and marriage, and I wanted to get that all in before I got started with the dating bit.  Also, typically the dating process is very private.  The guy and the girl don’t share with friends whom they are dating. This is for  two reasons:  one, to protect the couple from awkward explanations and gossip in the event it doesn’t work out, and two, as the Talmud states: Blessing only rests on that which is hidden from the eye.  Put differently, if you’ve got it, don’t flaunt it, or you risk losing it.

My thoughts:
How will I borrow that killer outfit from my Belgian friend in the dorm without letting on that it’s for a date?


June, 1993.  Jerusalem.


The “Koval guy” pulls up in a taxi to my aunt and uncle’s apartment in Jerusalem to pick me up.   He knocks, comes in, and sits at the table that is set with refreshments no one will touch.  We chat, and leave.  All according to script.  He speaks Israeli Hebrew to the cabbie and is very, very, nice.

After the date I return to my aunt and uncle’s apartment.  I am happy.  We went to a lounge and chatted for a few hours, then took a walk in a park.  It was a good date.  He’s very nice.  I’m willing to go out again.  My aunt and uncle are the “shadchanim” – matchmakers or middlemen, but that’s a lousy definition – meaning they mediate after each date.  It is de rigueur for both boy and girl to get back to the shadchan within 24 hours.  He does and also had a nice time.  The second date is handled through the mediators and is set for a few days hence.

Explanation:
The purpose of Torah dating is for marriage – no delusions there.  There is absolutely no touching before marriage, so the dates are spent chatting and in casual activities like touring, playing games, or eating out.  The subsequent dates are either arranged via the shadchan, or by the couple themselves over the phone once they become more comfortable.

My thoughts:
He’s so nice!  Could I marry this guy?  Wait.  I don’t need to know if I want to marry him.  I just need to know if I want to go out again.  I do.  That Israeli accent was pretty impressive.


End of June, 1993.  New York.


We’ve gone out 4 times in Israel.  Our dates have included a safari trip, an air hockey stint, a pizza date, and the boardwalk in Tel Aviv.  He’s really, really, really nice.  I respect his values and his opinions.  I am truly impressed with how he treats the waitress, the toll booth guy, and the parking attendant.  He is thoughtful of my schedule and respectful of Torah leaders.  I like that he’s also normal.  Very spiritual, but likes to have fun too.  Great family.  He obviously thinks this is going places, because he left his yeshiva mid-semester in Israel to continue dating.  Our next date is to meet his parents, which is hilarious, because I totally know them from the block.  But OK, to spend some time chatting.  As a potential daughter-in-law.  We meet in Central Park, then head over to a restaurant for dinner.  Future FIL jokes about my boyfriend ordering garlic spaghetti.  I blush.  FIL is sweet.  My parents are very supportive and talk me through the whole process.  At this point we do blood tests to rule out Tay-Sachs incompatibility.

Explanation:
If all continues to progress, the sixth or seventh date will be proposal time.   If either party feels they need more time, or are unsure if this is it, the shadchan will be notified and will relay this info to the other party with as much tact as possible.  Ideal shadchanim are kind, thoughtful, tactful, reachable, and responsible.

My thoughts:
If he would propose today, I would say yes.  I feel that I know everything that I need to know.  I feel confident that I making this decision with my head and not just my heart.  Thank you, Hashem (God)!  I am so grateful!  Thank you for sending me such an amazing guy, with no effort on my part!  You are so good to me.  May this be good, may this be right, may I only know happiness.  And if it’s not right for me, won’t you kindly alert me soon?


July, 1993.  NY/Cleveland.


Three dates later, he proposes at Medici’s in Manhattan.  I am glowing, I am ecstatic, I can’t believe it.  We have to keep it a secret because his grandparents are on a cruise and we don’t want to announce it without them here.  We’ll tell hand-picked family members only.  My grandparents have tears in their eyes.  They love him.  I am popping with joy.  A week later, we arrive in Cleveland, announce our engagement, and schedule a vort (engagement party), which the entire city attends.  Delighted comments range from “I had no idea!” to “I should’ve thought of this one!” to “I thought of this idea, but you were in Israel/I didn’t think you were dating yet/you guys beat me to it” to “Mazel tov!  May you build a wonderful Jewish home!”  It’s wonderful and my cheeks ache from smiling.  We set the wedding date for three months hence – October 18.

Explanation:
No touching = short engagements.  Can’t say the David’s Bridal peeps were too keen on this.  (“October 1994?”  “No, October 1993.”  “OCTOBER 1993??  That’s very soon, ma’am.”)  However, all the Ortho-folk involved in this shindig are totally used to this (the caterer, the Italian hall owners, musicians, photographers, and flower people).

My thoughts:
I’m so excited!  I’m so lucky!  This is serious.  I have to start learning about marriage.  I’m so excited!


August-September 1993.  Cleveland.


We arrange for a local Jewish rebbetzin to teach me about a Jewish marriage.  This includes all the mikveh laws.  I read lots of books and take classes on communication, the holiness of marriage, and the spirituality in building a family.  I feel very entrusted with millennia of sacred texts and learning.  The “Koval guy” has returned to Israel to continue yeshiva study, much to my chagrin and pride.  We talk once a week on the phone as he stands on his friend’s balcony in Israel with a cordless.  It’s noisy and hard to hear him.  It has to suffice.  I am so happy knowing that he, too, is taking many classes on marriage and how to be a good husband.  I pray a lot, in gratitude and supplication for our future.  I turn 19 in August and my birthday is celebrated with my fiance and his family, as well as mine.

My thoughts:
This is crazy!  Is this me??  Getting married??  Am I playing house?  Hashem, please let this be good.  Please let me deserve this.  Please let me know how to be a good wife and him to be a good husband.  Let us be healthy and happy and build a wonderful family together, kind, spiritual, loving.  This is crazy!


October 18, 1993.  La Malfa, Mentor, Ohio.


Marty La Malfa joins hundreds of guests in our special day!

And… how did you meet?

Sparking numbers with healing and dealing text.
Uncategorized September 7, 2011

I DON’T Need Costco! I Don’t!

People seem to think my family must consume enormous volumes of food.  And that we must need a mini-bus to transport ourselves places.  And buy diapers by the pallet.

I, however, have resisted joining even Costco till last year.  I hate driving a mini-van.  I will not buy things that are designed for dorms, even if they work well for us.

We are a family, not an institution.  Specifically:

FOOD 

I do my basic grocery shopping at Marc’s, our local budget-friendly grocery that never actually has everything you need (actually my teenage daughter usually does it), augmented by quick fill-ups at Heinen’s – our standard garden-variety supermarket.  Costco usually happens every couple of weeks.  I can’t buy produce there regularly since we can’t finish it all before it goes bad.  It’s good for non-perishables like diapers, paper towels and the like, but sometimes I get lazy and just go to Target, which is so much more fun anyhow.  I keep track of what we need via an app on my phone.  Once or twice a week we hit the kosher butcher for dinner and Shabbos supplies, and to supply other “Jewish” food items.  The kosher grocery is a job my husband handles, since he’s in the ‘hood every day, and I’m not.  Usually only need that trip once a week or so.

CAR

We have a disgustingly boring Toyota Sienna mini-van.  It’s gold.  I hate gold cars.  My husband thought it was my favorite car color, so he surprised me.  It seats 8.  Yes.  I have 9 people in my family, including a car seat and booster, but when do we ever all go somewhere simultaneously?  My son is away at school, so if anything it would be the 8 of us, but when he’s home we take both cars – a similarly boring Toyota Camry.  Honestly, I couldn’t care less about the status of the car I drive, but the mini-van genre to me is so fuddy-duddy middle aged…. *sigh*.  Shockingly, this still bothers me every time I drive it.  I am fanatical about keeping it clean, as though to keep the demons at bay (“She’s let herself go…just look at the car…”).  Thank you, Alpaul Auto Wash.

DINING ROOM

No, it’s not mess hall.  We have a regular dining room and a regular table.  When we have company for Shabbos, we usually bring in an extra table and have the kids sit there, who usually spend a grand total of 2.4 seconds at the table before heading outside to the trampoline.  I have dishes for 16 – a wedding gift from my awesome grandparents.  Beyond that we are using disposables.  And often well before.  If we have more than two families at a time, this is deemed in my mind an “event” and I hire help.

LAUNDRY

My kids do laundry.  OK, pick your jaw up off the floor.  If a 16-year-old can operate a motor vehicle, can she not operate a washing machine?  Each child over bar or bat mitzvah is responsible to wash, dry, fold, put away, sort and otherwise manage her own laundry.  When my son comes home from yeshiva, I do it for him as a special treat.  I have cleaning help that folds the rest of the household laundry and irons.

CLOTHING CONSUMPTION

I’ve hopefully taught my kids one of the golden rules of Jewish shopping: Be Allergic to Retail.  My grandmother taught me this well (traveling from Queens to Manhattan on a regular basis to pursue this goal) and my father-in-law reinforced it.  We also have a pretty decent hand-me-down system going.  If I feel my kids need less than they think, they have the option to buy with their own babysitting money.  I used to feel very strained by the errands involved in this until my daughter got her license.  I now feel like a got a “get out of jail free” pass – yay!  My husband and I are super-low-maintenance when it comes to clothing.  We all splurge on the baby – girls are just too much fun.

EXTRA-CURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

Growing up Orthodox, I never realized that there were parents whose discretionary time was nearly entirely consumed by their kids’ after-school activities.  Parents sat through play rehearsals?  Soccer was a full-time job?  This was completely foreign to me.  Sure, as a kid I played piano, acted, wrote, and did public speaking, but none of these activities involved my parents aside from paying for it and transporting me there.  There were siblings and jobs and dinner, and I had absolutely no expectation that my mother would sit through a play rehearsal.  Now, why should she want to do that?  She would see the real thing.  It would be a surprise.  So when I found people asking me how I managed my kids’ activities, at first I wasn’t quite sure what the question was.  Now I do, and here’s the answer.  Extra-curricular activities in large Orthodox families look like this: one kids takes drum lessons.  Mom drops off and picks up.  One kid is in the school play.  Stays after and carpools home.  Involves 2-3 months a year.  Sports are usually casual and take place in the driveway or backyard.  Kids occasionally get a gym or lawn to play something slightly more formal.  Again, we carpool.  With budgets and time constraints, no family schedule is working around any one kid’s activity.  Should I feel guilty about this?  Well, I don’t, so I hope that’s OK.

EXTENDED FAMILY MEMBERS

I have two categories of extended family: those that are wired, and those that are not.  By “wired” I mean Facebook, texting, email.  I keep up with my wired family members, and only speak on the phone occasionally to my non-wired family members.  I mean, it’s not like there are awkward silences or anything – it’s like riding a bike – but I have very little phone time.  We forgive each other and laugh about it and catch up when we catch up.  Again, should I feel guilty about this?  Well, I don’t, because it works for me and my family and we all know we love each other and would drop anything for one another in a pinch.

And that’s how I run my family like a family… and not an institution!

But somehow, I just can’t shake that Costco membership.

Text: "The moments aren't gone" on parchment background.
Uncategorized September 6, 2011

Queens Girl, Cleveland Girl

One of the most awesome parts, and one of the worst parts, of being Orthodox, is living in a community.  Especially a small community.  Like Cleveland, which has recently been deemed a very “genuine” place to live.
Now, granted, you can technically be Orthodox and live wherever you want, but it means you may not be able to go to shul (synagogue) or easily obtain kosher food.  You could certainly eat fruits, veggies, grains, etc., and you could certainly do your praying and your Shabbat solo, but you might feel much more isolated – we were meant to support one another in this Jewish journey.
So what do I love about living in a small community?
People care if you exist.

This means they notice if you are out of town, they ask you why you decided to switch your kids’ schools, and they are happy to see you when the weather gets warm.  Your existence matters to the PTA, the minyan, and the local Jewish vendors such as the butcher, baker and candlestick maker.  Okay, so in 2012 that’s the neighbor that cuts hair and waxes eyebrows, the neighbor that does my wig, the neighbor that sells accessories in her basement, and the neighbor that owns the local kosher grocery.
This makes me feel warm and fuzzy.  Originally from Queens, many of my relatives live in virtual anonymity on the east coast.  If they drop into one minyan or another, it’s not likely anyone will notice.  If they attend this or that simcha, it’s not likely anyone will notice.  If they buy their groceries at this corner store or the next… big deal; there’s way too much traffic for anyone to take note.
I like it that people care; that my presence and purchases matter; that the schools want more rather than fewer kids.  I like it that my neighbors know when I’m on my own because my husband is out of town for a few and that we’ve been away for a holiday or forgot that it was a holiday weekend and took the garbage out too early or forgot to close the car windows and it was raining, all of which are true stories that have actually happened to me.  I married a Cleveland boy from down the street.  The whole city was delighted when we announced our engagement.  It was so… shtetl-like.  In a good way.
So what don’t I love about living in a small community?
People know everything about you.


This means they notice if you are out of town, and they ask you why you decided to switch your kids’ schools.  Your existence is noted by the PTA, the minyan, and the local Jewish vendors such as the butcher, baker and candlestick maker.  Okay, so in 2012 that’s the neighbor that cuts hair and waxes eyebrows, the neighbor that does my wig, the neighbor that sells accessories in her basement, and the neighbor that owns the local kosher grocery.  And it can be awkward when you patronize one friend over another, one school over another, one minyan over another – when they are all neighbors and community members.

If you teach in a community school, or do business in the community, you see your students/bosses/clients everywhere you go.  This can, indeed, be awkward.
There is an interesting mitzvah to patronize a fellow Jew’s business wherever possible.  If we don’t look out for each other, who will look out for us?  So I am patently aware of this when the local Jewish vendor is right next to me in the carpool line.
But I would never trade what I have in my community.  When someone gives birth, celebrates a bar or bat mitzvah, or wedding, or is new to town, the community roars to life.  They send over dinners, they invite my kids over to play, they send over teen volunteers, and they take over carpools.  I have been brought to tears at the incredible warmth and support in my community.  And I mean personally, and organizationally, via the various non-profits established to support families in financial need, medical need, special ed need, and the list is limited only by the imagination.
So this Queens girl is quite proud to call this small town home.  Thanks, Cleveland, for being such a special place to live and to raise my family.  And for being, oh, so genuine.
Sparklers forming "15" with motivational text.
Uncategorized September 5, 2011

To Fight is To Lose

If you have kids, and your kids fight, pay close attention.

How does it feel when our kids fight?  We raise them; we give them everything we’ve got.  We give them our sleep, our food, our best decades.  We give them our money and our time and our brain cells and our non-gray hair.

And they fight.

They fight for the dumbest reasons.  They fight out of boredom, for attention, or for competition.  They fight out of anger, jealousy, and for no reason whatsoever.  They fight because they feel that it is safe to fight with one another, as opposed to outsiders.  They fight because they don’t dream that they are wrong.

And so, they fight.

And when they fight, we crumple.

Us adults, with our psycho-savvy, and with our dual degrees, and with various self-help books memorized in part, crumple.  Admit it, parents: it brings you to your knees.

Nothing feels worse than our children, flesh of our flesh, blood of our blood, carrying our very DNA, not to mention each other’s, turning against one another.

Well, well.

If God is our Father, and we are His children, why, oh why, do we do it… to each other?

When will the madness end?

 Related posts:
1. If “Orthodox” is Offensive, What About “Non-Orthodox”?
2. Hypocrites
3. Newsflash: We are more alike than different
4. Judgmental is Not a Religion, It’s a Personality Defect
5. The “O” Word

Advertisement for a Thursday event at JFX.
Uncategorized September 4, 2011

What You Want Other Jews To Know About You: Need Input

Hi dearest readers,
Firstly allow me to say thank you for reading my blog and for all your positive feedback.
Secondly, I need your help. I’d like to do a series on “What would you like Orthodox Jews to know about you?” and “What would you like non-Orthodox Jews to know about you?”
Can you submit any tidbits?
If so please either post below, or email me at Ruchi@jewishfamilyexperience.org.

Thanks!
Shavua tov! Gut voch!

White Bosch kitchen mixer on countertop.
Uncategorized September 2, 2011

More Ortho-isms: The Abbreviation Quagmire

So not only are there all these Hebrew words and phrases that people expect you to understand, there are ABBREVIATIONS for them.  In Hebrew, and, thanks to Facebook and texting, in English.  Yes.  That’s right.  Obscure Hebrew and Yiddish phrases, abbreviated into English.  What, you find that confusing?

So for the benefit of all my readers, here goes:
*Note: the quotation marks are an approximation of two small lines that appear in the Hebrew abbreviations, similar to the apostrophe used for a contraction in English.  The difference is that these abbreviations are not really contractions OR abbreviations, but rather acronyms.  However, in Facebook and textese, the quote marks are generally dropped.  What, you find that confusing?

1. BDE

It stands for:
Baruch dayan emes, which means “Blessed is the true judge” in Hebrew.

Usage:
This phrase is used when you’ve heard that someone has passed away.  The following Facebook post, for example: “So sorry to hear about your grandpa!  BDE!  How are you guys doing??”
When you are in the know, you will know exactly what happened to Grandpa and not be stuck posting things like: “???”  “What happened??”  “Does he need help?”

The significance:
Judaism teaches that we must bless God for the bad as well as the good.  Quintessential bad news is that someone has died; therefore the custom has arisen to bless God, as the true Judge, even when the news is truly lousy.

2. BSH”T or BSHT”UM or some such combo

It stands for:
B’shaah tova, which is Hebrew for “may it be in a good [fortunate] moment,” or “Bshaah tova u’mutzlachas/t” which means “may it be in a good and successful moment.”

Usage:
This phrase is used when you hear that someone is pregnant, or when they tell you they are.  NOTE: Not when you see someone and think they’re pregnant.  Just ignore that thought right off the bat.  Example:
Text – hey do u know any birthing coaches im like due any day
Reply – seriously!!!  bsht!  I had no clue!

The significance:
Most people think you wish “Mazel tov” here but that is actually an error.  Mazel tov is said when the baby is born – the notion here is that we, ah, don’t count our chickens before they hatch.  Put another way, it’s considered presumptious to just assume that everything will be fine – so we wish that when the good news does, actually happen – it should be just the right time, not too soon and not too late.

3. B”H, IY”H, B”N – see  #1, 2, 3 respectively here.

4. BS”D

It stands for:
B’siyata d’shmaya, which is Aramaic (oh yeah, I forgot to mention there is a third language to contend with here…) for “with the help of Heaven.”

Usage:
This phrase is used in abbreviated form in either Hebrew or English letters at the top of a page to indicate that the work or planning that went into whatever is written on the paper was done with God’s help; or it’s used conversationally, indicating that God’s help is needed in our lives. 
Example: “The whole renovation was literally b’siyata d’shmaya – every time I needed to pick something out, I found it on sale somewhere!”

The significance:
Judaism teaches that we need God’s help for success in any endeavor.  This phrase reminds us and others that we don’t take credit for our achievements – God’s help was and is key.

5. ZT”L/OBM/A”H

I KNOW THESE DO NOT LOOK LIKE SYNONYMS.
They don’t even look remotely related.  Yet they all refer to roughly the same thing.

It stands for:
ZT”L: Zecher tzaddik l’vracha – Hebrew for “may the righteous one be remembered for a blessing.”  Used more when referencing a known scholar or Torah sage.
OBM – Of blessed memory.  That was an easy one.
A”H: Alav (or aleha) hashalom – Hebrew for “may peace rest upon him/her” – you got it, it’s what we say when referencing someone that has passed away.

Usage:
This phrase is used both in speech and writing.  You may notice the ubiquitous OBM on a yahrtzeit plaque, whereas ZTL or AH would appear in a publication more geared for the Hebrew-and-Yiddish-familiar-public.  Example: can’t believe today is my grandpa’s ah yarhtzeit already… miss him so much!!!


The significance:
Judaism teaches that a person who passes away does not disappear – his/her memory brings blessings to the world.  Also, his/her soul, we pray, finds peace in the world to come.  Yes, Judaism believes in heaven and hell – another talk for another day.

6. FFB

It stands for:
Frum from birth.  “Frum” is a Yiddish word that is synonymous with religiously observant, or Orthodox.

Usage:
This phrase is used identify oneself as having grown up Orthodox one’s whole life, as opposed to BT – see #7.

The significance:
Not so much significance here, other than eating your pasta with ketchup instead of marinara and drinking seltzer and having pizza with fries (I’m learning).  Also talking like a New Yorker even if you’re not one, and bungling various prepositions due to your ancestors having spoken Yiddish as their first language.

7. BT

It stands for:
Baal teshuva, or baalas/t teshuva.  This literally means “master of return” – returning to one’s authentic self, or to the ways of one’s ancestors.  It refers to someone who becomes observant in their adult life.

Usage:
“Hey – are you FFB or BT?”
Note: some people don’t mind being organized this way, and some do.  If you find that people are vague while you’re trying to play Jewish geography, keep this in mind.  Some people find their background and history cool, and some would rather bury some of the memories.  Tread carefully.

The significance:
Judaism teaches that people who make significant changes in their lives in order to reach a deeper spiritual place, will merit unprecedented reward.  I find  that kind of cool.  I get no credit for bypassing McDonald’s, but someone who still craves it, gets lots.

That having been said, I’ll wish you all a lovely Shabbat… ttyl, ffb’s, bt’s, and jig (jews in general)!