Lucky for us, the welcome mat stays outside | Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle

Lucky for us, the welcome mat stays outside

Responding to a board member of the Milwaukee Jewish Federation who asked late last month what is the most important thing American Jews can do for Israel, Israel Consul General to the Midwest Moshe Ram did not hesitate. Visit, he said. It may not be “the easiest thing to do, but life in Israel has never been easy,” and Israel needs you there.

It’s no secret that American Jews, though generous with donations to help Israel support its war on terrorism, have been staying away from the country in droves. Tourism and the industries that depend on it are dead everywhere, though Ram did add that the “constant influx of Asian tourists” has not diminished.

Dr. Robert Kliegman, who visited Israel April 14-21 following his fifth year on the March of the Living in Poland, said in a telephone interview last week that Israelis “feel a tremendous sense of isolation. They feel totally isolated from American Jews and even more isolated from European communities.”

Both he and Milwaukeean Norb Eglash, who recently returned from a three-week trip, said they felt uncomfortable when Israelis everywhere thanked them for coming. “We aren’t the courageous ones,” Eglash said last week. “My wife Judy and I were just visiting family. They live there all the time.”

“I can’t explain why I went completely,” said Kliegman, pediatrician-in-chief of Children’s Hospital, whose stay included visits to several hospitals and a center for children with special needs. “What I would be most fearful of is if my grandchildren asked what I did when Israel was attacked by the United Nations and the European Union. I want to be able to say I did something, even on a personal level.

“This is the third time I have been in the country since the ‘situation’ started some 19 months ago. My son Matt was there on a high-school program last year and my daughter is going in another month. I thank God that they feel that way.”

In addition to professional visits, Kliegman, like the Eglashes, traveled about and shopped in Jerusalem.

“I had to get my Naot shoes on Jaffa St. [where many of the suicide bombings have occurred],” he said matter of factly. “And if I don’t shop and I don’t go out, the terrorists will have won.”

“So many people ask us how we can go,” said Eglash’s wife Judy. For her, the answer is simple. “If my children lived in a bad neighborhood in this country, would I stop seeing them?

“We went determined not to sit in the house the whole time. The only thing we did differently is that we didn’t ride the buses. But the security was wonderful.”
“We felt very comfortable, not fearful,” agreed Norb.

‘ Are you nuts?’

Fran Assa may be the Milwaukeean who gets asked “how can you go?” the most right now. She will be making aliyah this August at a time in life when most people think about buying that second home in Florida or Arizona. She said she tells people, “I’m going because Israel is the Jewish homeland, and I’m a Jew. I want to build the Jewish homeland.”

“I’m not in the slightest bit afraid,” she said. “Just the opposite. The quality of life for children and Jews in general in Israel is so much better than it is here. I consider myself lucky to be able to go at this stage in my life. It’s a privilege.”

Assa, a native Milwaukeean, will be moving with her Israeli husband Jacob and their daughter Carmi, currently a third grader at the Milwaukee Jewish Day School. Her two older daughters will be completing their schooling here.

She said she got the idea to make aliyah about six months ago after retiring as an attorney with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission in 2000. When she told her husband what she wanted to do with the next phase of her life, he readily agreed.
“You know,” she said, “I get impatient when people ask me how can I go. How can they not? I ask them, ‘If you think Israelis are in danger, then why aren’t you helping them? Why aren’t you there? Hotels are hurting; people are hurting.’

“A friend of mine said to me recently, ‘You know, even though Israelis appreciate what we do for them financially, that isn’t enough. Our money doesn’t soothe their sense of abandonment. They want us.’ And she’s right.”

All those interviewed believe that Israel does need the financial support of American Jews to help meet its urgent security, emergency and social service needs. And advocacy comes to all four of them as readily as breathing.

But Israelis also need us to fulfill one of the most basic of human needs — touch, something most of us rely on family and friends to provide. They need to see their American brothers and sisters there, touching their lives personally, in a way only family can.

Lucky for us, the beautiful and amazing thing about visiting Israel is that Israelis embrace us immediately and welcome us right back into their lives. Despite their pain, loneliness and sense of abandonment, the welcome mat, no matter how long unused, is never removed.

“It may surprise people to know,” said Israel emissary Nir Barkin, “that although there is a significant decrease in the amount of people who join the short-term programs to Israel, the more engaging programs, the long-term ones, that usually draw the more committed Israel population are surviving the latest crisis.

“There is no better time to go to Israel, to show your support and engagement. I can assure you … that what you see in the media is not what is happening on the ground. Life in Israel goes on.”

“You feel your connection immediately,” Kliegman concluded, “and since I’ve been back I feel like something is missing from my life. But the thing that struck me the most was one of the last things I did in the country.

“On erev Shabbat, I was sitting and eating a falafel near Cardo Square, and I heard someone yell ‘Shabbat Shalom’ with such joy, it was like a birthday and wedding greeting all rolled in one. They didn’t allow what was going on to interfere in their joy….
“That night and the next, on motzai Shabbat, there were thousands of people at the Kotel. There were soldiers and black hats and Jews of every type. Everyone looked so different that it was hard to believe that they would be doing the same thing. But there they were like one Jewish body, all praying and hoping that life would be better.”