| Homeless (for the year) in Israel |
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July 2004 "Mrs. Guedalia you might not remember me, but I ate at your house on Yom Tov, right now I am at a pay phone, and have a large piece of glass in my hand. _option_option_option_optionThe phone rings, its 6 a.m. "how are you?" I ask the, male voice at the other end of the line. "Not too good", he says, "or I wouldn't call you at six in the, morning. I played basketball late last night, after shiur, and I think I broke something. I went to the emergency room here, but they said its nothing and I don't believe them...." (He took a cab, and met me at Shaare Zedek's emergency room two hours later). "Hello, I'm so sorry to bother you, I am xxxxx's cousin who is related to you, right, well anyway, I am with a friend of mine in xxxx emergency room, she's cut her foot badly and we didn't bring a check book, a credit card or enough money. They won't release her until we pay, and its midnight already..." My trusty check-book and I "sprung" them, and was refunded later by G-D for sure, and the two girls. It's Erev Rosh-Hashanah, the girls we are expecting have not arrived as yet. It is ten minutes until the siren 40 minutes until shekia. I am somewhat concerned (they called three times before today to ask where we lived, what time to come to help etc. and yes I must admit that I was a bit annoyed that they didn't arrive as yet). The phone finally rings with a crying and somewhat hysterical young woman at the other end. She and her friend had been on a tiyul for two days, and over-slept it was after three p.m., Erev Rosh-Hashanah!!!! And now they could not get a bus and even a cab. So, my very less than thrilled and long-suffering husband went to pick them up by car. How could we leave them for Rosh-Hashanah with no one and no food!? Be we Chasidic or Litvak, Ashkenazi of Sephardic of any hue in-between, the second day of Yom Tov, it is either the first day of Chol Hamoed or Isro Chag. Whichever end of the holiday it falls on, it is the closest we here in Israel, come to Sunday i.e. not Shabbat or Chag and not school/work. What happens to all those two ‘dayers' who are stuck with us Israelis? Well in our home I always buy or make extra challot for Motzeh, and by the last day of Pesach all the food in my refrigerator is on paper plates. ‘Rumplenaght' (my yekkish roots are showing) is a day late. The Succah gets a pot in it, and comes down a day late too. My neighbor asks me which of my children has (finally) learned to play such beautiful, though mournful, music on our piano. I don't tell her of the young yeshiva student, who came for a Shabbat meal and asked if he could come during the week to practice piano. I said sure, and gave him the combination of our door lock so that he could come when I was at work and the kids were at school. He came for quite a few months. After a while, he left me a note that he had to do back home. His mother had terminal cancer and died not long after. Not once, but many times have I had variants of the following conversation: Would you be able to see a friend of mine and convince her/him to see a doctor/psychologist s/he won't tell me exactly what is wrong, and will not tell their parents either. Another time, a Yeshiva/Seminary, may call me at the office (or at home). Could I possibly see someone who has been there for a few weeks/months and is having a great deal of difficulty? ‘Difficulty', I have learned, can mean anything from psychosis to homesickness, a ‘great deal of difficulty' is undefine-able, but I must say it piques my curiosity. (The Rabbi or Rebbitzin know they have gotten to me). Okay, I say and much to the chagrin of my staff, as I take yet another person ‘out of the line' (of people who are waiting for an appointment). Once it was about a young (19 year old) woman, she had been expelled from the seminary she was in, for having been seen ‘talking to undesirables'. That is code, for possibly anyone of the male persuasion but most assuredly not with a Kippa. In this case the latter was correct; they were young Arabs teens at the Central Bus Station. To make a very long story shorter, this young woman had a rare genetic disorder that her parents certainly knew about, and didn't bother to inform the Seminary. Similarly, her school in the States could not possibly, have not known, that she had a serious cognitive and emotional disorder, even if no one bothered to give them the real diagnosis. Yet, no one told any of the individuals or organizations here, who were responsible for this 19 year old, what to expect. After the neuropsychological assessment which I conducted, I had a tentative hypothesis as to her condition. The diagnosis was confirmed when I met a distant relative of hers whose son had a ‘diagnosed' version of the genetic disorder. Though, even she did not know this American, cousin had it too. The condition causes cognitive defects that affect learning, and cause difficulty in interpreting interpersonal communication. Two conditions that had the Seminary, or I as a neuropsychologist, known at the outset, might have prevented this girl from the hurt and embarrassment of being expelled from her school. She had also unwittingly been in personal danger, as she could not understand the effects of her ‘communication' with strangers in general and ‘characters' who spoke to her at the Central Bus Station in particular. I called the States and asked the parents to come here to bring their child home and was told that they didn't want to spoil their daughter's year in Israel. Even though she was past 18 years of age, I felt like calling the police and reporting child abuse. But my feelings were truly of sadness for this child, let alone my anger and frustration at this glaring case of negligence on the part of the American Chinuch system. In the end we prevailed on the parents and she did go home accompanied by a parent. I must add too, that in the last year or two I have noted a small change. With the advent of email, I am getting contacted, with the parents' permission, by professionals, psychologists and psychiatrists asking me to either take on, or refer their patients who are going to be spending the year in Israel. This is indeed a positive step. These kids will have an easier time ‘navigating' the system with an informed professional on their side. The Yeshivot and Seminaries do not turn away students with problems if they feel they have a professional in Israel with whom they can consult. But these parents are an enlightened few! The majority of the well functioning and some of the less so well-functioning are the ‘Homeless Children of Israel'. They are the ones whom are sent to ‘learn' in Israel, without their parents realizing that there is a veritable army of Moms, like me, around the country. This army of moms is taking care, not only of the feeding of young adult children during the Chagim and Shabbatot, but also their emotional and physical care and sometimes laundry My husband who read this said it sounds a lot like I am complaining. I/we are not complaining. We truly are not. We tell each other "can you top this" stories when we meet at weddings and other Simachot (I don't even always win!!!). I have met some of the most charming, smart, Baalei Midot and heard wonderful Divrei Torah from the young men and women of the world, many of whom are sending their kids to Israel today. I, we, just keep wondering if you could possibly know. P.S. The one thing that I would like to know (in my name and in the name of the hundreds of other Israeli Moms) is that if one of my kids or I were ever stuck in Itchkepoo, Minnesota or Brooklyn, New York for that matter, and it is two a.m., what is your phone number? |
