Where is the shelter

The first war outside the home. After 6 years of health, political, and military freedom situations, suddenly this war doesn't affect me. I'm not looking for shelters with a bomb shelter, building boards, moving tables and chairs around the city, writing lesson plans, creating a weekly schedule, switching from council Zoom to topic team Zoom to collegium Zoom to math class Zoom. We woke up to a war feeling worried and down. On one hand, I want to call everyone and check what's happening, and on the other hand, I remembered how annoyed we were during the first Iran War when we received messages from abroad, while we were packing a suitcase, moving to my sister's place, just before the end of the year, with graduation parties and writing certificates on our heads, and I just want to be left alone. Yuval is still connected to the siren, so every alarm anywhere in the country jolts her. That's her way of dealing with guilt and worry. But when I text her, she doesn't respond for hours because she's busy at work and her phone was on silent...

So when I was worried, I went for a run, of course, I felt guilty for running to relieve the tension while everyone in Israel has been in a shelter for 5 straight hours. Then the kids went to school, and we returned to deal with the moving, bank accounts, costumes, making hamantaschen in the toaster for 3 classes... and slowly the war faded from our consciousness.

On Tuesday, we moved. The new house is really nice. Big and spacious, in a forest next to a lake, almost fully furnished. It feels like we really won the lottery here. And the price is decent too. In recent days, we're moving from Home Center to IKEA, organizing closets, moving beds, and I even did a cleaning for the first time since we left the country. There's plenty of room for hosting, and it really feels like we need more people to share the space to enjoy all this beauty. So everyone is invited: a short bus ride to Eilat, crossing the border to Jordan, connecting flight to Medellin. I promise to pick you up from the airport. Oh, and a month of waiting in Costa Rica for a visa....

When Ofri entered kindergarten and I spent a whole day with him, I felt really bad for putting him in such an unsuitable framework - running from class to class, each class in a different place with a different teacher who operates a screen to calm them down, tons of candies everywhere and little support from the educator who's busy photographing them. Ofri was really scared of the new framework and couldn't communicate, which of course didn't help. So we looked for an alternative place and found one that seemed anthropological. I was invited to an open day at the school, and this week the date arrived. Even though it felt irrelevant already, I decided to go. I arrived and felt like I was home... a parents' meeting with the school principal, sitting in a circle, inside the circle a flower garland with a candle in the middle... the principal spoke in Spanish and usually, I completely get lost, but this time I understood everything. I felt like we were speaking the same language and the specific words weren't so important. She spoke a lot about the strain that children experience in the information age and screens, about age-appropriate learning and development, storytelling, physical, emotional, and social skills development, movement classes, music and art, connection to nature, natural authority, boundaries, and understanding children’s needs. Everything was clear and intuitive. When someone asked a question, I went back to not understanding anything, but the answer immediately brought me back on track. It was funny sitting in a circle identifying all the usual parent figures - the mom with the irritated look who doesn't understand what these bizarre nonsense is about, the super-anthroposophical couple saying all the right things, those who love to hear themselves talk, the disappointed ones from the regular system, the scared ones from their own shadow (I probably fall into this category in this current situation).

We toured the school and I was even more convinced I arrived at the right place. Anthroposophical on steroids. In the dining room, there is only vegan and healthy food - no sugar, gluten, lactose, even white rice is prohibited. The classrooms are open rooms on a huge lawn - a roof, no walls, a blackboard, chairs, and tables on the grass. There’s even a small wood workshop. And the kindergarten - looks and operates like a kindergarten should.

Ironically, I came out of there feeling down. Before I arrived, I already knew there was no way we were moving Ofri to another kindergarten. Some time has passed, Ofri feels safe in his kindergarten. He meets with his siblings every day, and also other Hebrew-speaking figures that he already knows and surround him. The educational agenda may not be suitable, but the people are warm, good, and pleasant. He comes back every day excited from kindergarten, with new words in Spanish, dressed up for Purim or after a Shabbat reception. There’s no way we’re pulling him out of this framework. I still came because we had already set a date, and I thought that although Ofri wouldn’t move there, maybe someday I’d want to work there, and this was an opportunity to see the place. In short, it was too good.

Maybe I’d want to work there later.. I don’t know. In the meantime, I’m starting to cultivate leisure time. I found a woodworking course and a glassblowing course, I’m looking for a piano, I started buying woodworking tools for my workshop in the garage, tai chi every Saturday. The channel of the good life (and sorry to everyone reading this from the shelter).

The song that spoke to me the most this week, performed beautifully by Red Band:

Hey, quiet now everything is okay

Even the suffocation is about to be released

It's not hell and certainly not paradise

This is the world there is, and there’s no other world

See you next week