The Kippah

THE KIPPAH

    For those of you who don’t know what a kippah is, it’s a head covering used in religious ceremonies by those that are religious, and wear it all the time, worn part time by those who participate in a synagogue ceremony or other religious event, and worn occasionally by those men who participate in Jewish affairs that according to tradition require  it to be  worn.

    There are many different types of kippoth; some as small as  two buttons , some as large as a full size fedora without the trim   Most average ones are held onto the top of the head by a spring clip .Others by a piece of Velcro,  a prayer and a drop of super glue. Many as I’m sure you know have a date printed on the inside indicating the bar mitzvah of so and so, or the wedding of  Hanna and Moishe.I know that I have a collection of them dating back to my bar mitzvah in 1956.They are, or can be, a real time line of the history of your growing up as well as a family history. Just take the time to look in the plastic bag in the dining room buffet-it’s the top drawer on the left.

    

    The particular kippah that I was looking at this somber Sunday morning was barely level with the rectangular cement openings that surrounded us. It bobbed up and down for a few minutes, before I assumed that distinct, “I’m in a new Israeli experience”- look on my face,.

     I had never in my 67 years seen such a deep grave. When people say 6 feet you know that 6 feet is not really 6 feet its more like 5.This grave was way beyond the limits of my normal cemetery experience.

    The body, which was surrounded by family and many friends, was carried on a stretcher from the van to the graveside wrapped in the traditional white linen shroud and covered by a prayer shawl. No coffin. As the prayers were recited,   the wrapped body was gently tipped from the stretcher into the arms of this gentleman of the bobbing kippah waiting in the grave 2 meters plus down. The prayer shawl was pulled off and folded up and given to one of the grandchildren. After arranging the body, “the bob”  was passed the traditional cement covering plates- each as wide as the grave and about 40 centimeters long and  about 21/2 cm. thick . It took about 5 plates to cover the grave and after arranging the 3^rd he stepped up onto the three that were already flat and proceeded to finish the job. With a jump up and holding an another Holy Brother,   proceeded to fill the hole with the excavated earth and stone. As is Jewish tradition, some of the mourners then took over filling in the rest of the grave, or so I thought.

     Suddenly the same man jumped into the half filled grave and proceeded to level off the earth. He was standing up to his waist in the grave. Someone then gave him 5 more cement slabs and he continued a second time a cover to the grave. At this point he was satisfied and the filling continued till the grave was covered completely.

   The grave marker was placed at the head and the rather large group of people slowly wound their way back to their cars and back to the house of the widow, for the beginning of 7 days of mourning.

       I asked my good friend what the purpose of the second set of cement plates was for.  He proceeded to tell me the whole story. 

     As you may or may not know, you may only get married or buried with the help of the state. We are almost a theocratic state .The burial societies in the country are run by and large by a religious society called loosely the Holy Brothers. They hold reign over most of the cities as to where you may be buried. They provide the site and the facilities to bury you or your loved one at no cost to you. They prep the body; provide the room for saying final prayers and eulogies, as well as digging the grave and filling it in and maintaining the cemetery. You provide the headstone. The problems begin when you want a specific site, or request to be buried beside your loved one. “No can do,” you are told. “We have a big problem with space” you are told. “We simply can’t wait around till you die .The empty grave takes up space you see and we have to build new areas constantly.” The spokesman spreads his hands in a gesture that is internationally known  The chin goes up. The belly goes in and when the hands come down they turn upwards, and with a quick nod of understanding he informs you that there is a way. His thumb and forefinger rub together as he calmly explains to you that if you really wish to be buried beside your loved one the cost is only 30,000 shekels, payable in cash, only to assure you that you will have a place in heaven with your loved one.

    Now 30,000 shekels is a lot of moola in any language,especially for a service that should be free. Do you really want to be calling your loved one from across the cemetery or maybe if GOD is really good and gives you the four score and many more years maybe you will be out of hearing in the new section where you might be interred.

   “ I’m sorry”, you say to the Brother,  “is there not a less expensive way to do this?  After all 30,000 shekels is a lot of money”.

“Well we do have another plan”, he says conspiratorially. “There does exist another way to be buried close to your loved one that is less expensive. Its cost is only 8000.” He whispers in your very interested ear.

“How is that possible?” you ask?

“Well , instead of being beside your loved one, you can be on top of him”, he replies. “How is that possible?” you ask.  

“Well we dig a little deeper and cover,  ,,,,,,,,,,,,,; Need I say more ?”

We are a people of very sharp wit and many innovative ideas, and I guess that’s as good a solution as any to being with your loved one for eternity, Just as long as your not overweight.

    I might just say in passing (so to speak) that I’ve taken a few humorous liberties with this story, but I feel a quick word of explanation is in order for you who don’t understand the ways of  the country or the mental exercising inherent in some of the religious communities ways  of thinking.

     Briefly I’ll try and explain, from my jaundiced point of view, what about 55% of the non- religious Jews in the country feel towards the ultra orthodox community. This community basically doesn’t work at anything other than studying Torah, and consequently are a burden on the country’s coffers. The government has to have a coalition to remain in power, but there has never been a coalition that doesn’t have at least one of these leech parties in bed with it. They have separate educational facilities (Yeshivot) and a network of private schools that don’t teach subjects of relevance like Math, Science ,Reading ,Writing etc.etc..Because of our political system, the tax burden is very steep and as a consequence there is a lot of corruption and underhanded dealings including   graft and outright theft of public monies.

      I’m sure that there are many upright and moral religious people working and producing in the country, but you hear more dirty stories about the -how shall I put it-undertaking of the state religious authority .The Holy Brothers, operate in many different   communities and you may choose which organization you wish to work with, (each area has its own society) They are, and have been, a target for many lampoons over the years.

 The person who died was a very much loved father of one of our best friends on Zippori and was buried in Jerusalem where there really is a space problem .Its just the way it’s done. Hope you enjoyed this see you next week

   

   

-Frank   

battery purchace

January 4^th2011

  

   The New Year has started and so far there has only been a small earthquake (3.8) not far away, a little bit of rain-supposed to be a lot more tomorrow and misc. and relatively little real hard news.

     I suppose that the real story this week is how I bought a motorcycle battery.

      Yep, I actually bought a cycle- a motor scooter, used,-in very good condition. It’s a Honda Foresight 250 for anyone who wants the tech details. The reason I bought it is that Elaine takes the car to Carmiel-about 40 minutes north of Zippori three times a week. We only have one means of transport-excluding bicycle. My leg broken in 2 places by my falling off a ladder 12 years ago doesn’t quite like to go round and up and down so some extra means of transport was required .My best friends David and Tal live on the other end of the Moshav and the walk is about 15 minutes to one and 20 to the other.

     Now I know that many of you agree that riding a motorcycle is a dangerous business, and I totally agree with all of you and realize that there is a lot of hamburger meat laid on the Israel road system every day; sorry to be so graphic but its true. It’s a very dangerous business. Every day people are killed or seriously injured in accidents involving motor cycles and cars or motor cycles and people and every combo you could possible imagine, However I still need some means of transportation and I figured only in the Moshav and not on the main roads of the area will be ok.

     Very few machines today have that famous kick starter that you see in the movies, but my motor cycle does have the modest rumble of the very reliable Honda name. Every machine today has a 12 volt battery that’s about the size of a rolled up baby kitten that’s tucked in under the very comfortable seat in a niche that’s beside the rolled up set of tools that you never need.

     Having left the cycle for almost 2 weeks due to inclement weather tucked in its corner beside the back stairs, I tried starting it this past week, and you guessed it- nothing happened. I’m not a mechanic but do have a bit of experience with electric things. So I immediately opened the seat and put my trusty voltmeter on the battery and discovered that its out put was 12.8 volts. Scratch, scratch, my finger went on my head, that should be enough to turn over the starter.

     I have an old battery charger in my tool warehouse and immediately connected it up to give it a little charge. Nothing, not even a spark on the terminals’, in this country you don’t go running out to Wal-Mart or Canadian Tire to buy a battery for 50 bucks. You gotta check things out first. You ask friends where and how much and are they trustworthy and do they have the goods etc etc.

     One last hope for the kitten battery was at my regular garage where I asked Gamal my regular mechanic to connect it to his monster charger to see if we could tickle it back to life,. No dice, it was dead.

      I asked David if he knows of a battery place because David is known by his Anglo friends as the Finder of Bargains in the Moshav.He has a nose for saving money even a little bit. It was drilled into him by his late father the cattle dealer in S.A.

      David said I should go see Daoud who sells amongst other things batteries. After a 15 minute explanation as to where Daoud has his business (right beside the place where I always buy my clothes on the way to Yafia), Elaine and I decided to take a couple of pictures to be reframed to Afula and along the way stop at the battery man to check him out and then go to Afula to see if we could find a cheaper version of the same thing.

    Our stop on the way out of Nazareth  was at this huge  double hole in the wall store, that had batteries coming out of its ying yang.Ive never in my life have seen such disorganization  in a store. There were batteries in the shelves, on the floor, in the bathroom, outside near the parking spots; you have never seen a mess in your life.

     I brought in the battery to whom I thought was the boss and asked him if he had an animal like this. Yes sir, that comes from a Vespa, yes and with a swoop of a downward movement up comes exactly with what was  needed. Wonderful I replied. How much I asked.400 shekels he replied. Why is it so much money I asked? Imported was the reply. That’s the best you can do I asked? 350 was the reply. Too much I said. Cant you do better I asked? 330 was the reply. And I have this one here made in Italy (swoop grab display) for only 300 was the reply. Satisfied that this was the best I could do I informed my new friend that I was going to Afula to check things out there and if I found that he was cheapest then I would be back later to buy. Nobody sells cheaper than us was the reply.

     Off we traveled to Afula where Elaine waited inside at the empty open picture framers store for a good half hour while I went to four different garages to check out battery prices.

    Well the first place had one in stock but wanted 500. The second place didn’t have but for 450 it would be in in the afternoon. The 3^rd and fourth places gave great discounts but came nowhere near Daouds rock bottom price. So what the hell I gave up on the chase and we went back to Daouds in Nazareth to buy the thing so that we would have a running cycle.

    The distance to Afula is about 23 clicks from Nazareth, about the same coming back; just long enough to make you lose your leading edge. I was tired from all the running around when we arrived at the well spring of batteries, fat gentlemen was sitting with legs splayed on a plastic chair when I entered. When I told him that he was right as to being the cheapest he asked me, a little too quickly I thought, how much were they asking for it in Afula. That’s when I made my first fatal mistake.450 I replied. I’ll take the Italian one for 300 I said. Without batting an eyelash he said to me that his worker had made a mistake and the best he could do was 350.And at that he was almost losing money .The Italian one was also 350 he said. But your worker said…. A great sigh went up from him and his two hands were raised to  I don’t know who’s great sucker God in exasperation .No,-can’t help you he said .350 and that’s final.

     The decision was now in my court. Did I want to argue over 50 shekels or did I want the bloody battery? I decided on the battery. The second mistake was pulling out my credit card figuring that I could delay payment for a month. No we don’t take credit cards.Cheque? I said quickly. A quick shake of the head and a grunt that I interpreted as cash only. But I don’t have that much cash on me, I said. Ill drive you to a cash machine says my wiley friend. He quickly gives me the wrapped battery and tells me to lock it my car while we go to get money at the cash machine. He ushers me into his car and quickly drives me to a bank machine a click away that accepted my plastic. As we weaved our way back to his mess we started talking about the general state of the economy and the country generally, his attitude was, as I already suspected,  a very simple one: screw whoever you can all the time, with no remorse.

     It’s with little remorse that I am happily driving my two wheeled cycle  around the Moshav .At the same time I’m kicking myself in the rear and reminding myself  about the advice I always give my son Noam;-Always put your brain in gear before you open your mouth. Have a good one .

       Frank