When You Don't Need Any Title Here

This blog used to have a subtitle: Girl With Post Soviet Trauma if you remember.

I am still that girl (rather big strong woman like on this picture).

I am tired.
I mean, really tired emotionally. I want to hug my babies and sleep, sleep, sleep until the world is a better place.
So childish, I know, it even makes me little sick, but I am being very honest.

I miss my friends, I miss my country and the feeling of a motherland.
Not Home though. My Home is where my family is, but the land, I was born, grew up, lived, loved, learned is so very far from me, not only in distance, but mentally too.
I have less and less common with my Georgia, with my friends and relatives there. All I have left is the love for the old memories, I guess. My mum says, it's fine and once you have your own family, you cannot keep up with your old life.

I cannot indeed.

Does it make me sad? Not really.

I am just tired.
And I wish I had a homeland - calm, stable and welcoming back its people.

I am not one of its people anymore, and probably never was either.

You'd tell me, hey, there's your Eretz Yisroel (intentionally writing in an Ashkenazic manner), don't you adore it?
I DO!!! That's where my soul belongs to, that's where my heart and roots are, but it's hard, when I've never lived there, I don't speak Yivrit as fluently as Georgian obviously, and my childhood was spent not there.

Yes, childhood - that must be it.

On being a stay at home mum and a Hausfrau

Being stay at home mum is very hard, and I am glad, I am not the only one who thinks so. My favourite modern author, Beth Ann Fennelly also talks about it in her book.
People usually get touched by the subjects that bother them, or they get annoyed and depressed. I was sort of like that when read her ideas about new mums, who are at home, then they stay in longer and become less and less independent financially.

This is quite a problem actually.
Not that I can complain or something, but I don't feel free like used to before. I don't work since my 20 months old son was born, I am home with him all day, waking up at dawn and putting him to sleep in the evening. It's been my job now. I love it and I feel fine, at least I don't have a boss to boss me around, except Ezra, who tries to boss, but I am still in charge here, he can't do that to me; so it is good, when I can do pretty much what I please (or what I can), but very often I feel very degraded, if you know what I mean. Sometimes I feel like all my brain has gone with the milk I've nursed Ezra (if literally, that would've been quite useful after all), and now I am only left with my tired hands that clean, wash, change diapers, bake bread, cook meals, and nobody really needs my intellect anymore.
I know it's not like that, my husband definitely respects my knowledge and all, but isn't society harsh on women anyway?

For example, I went to some German bureaucratic office to get some papers done and a lady asked me what was my profession. So I told I had studied journalism, but now was staying at home with my little child. Oh, she said, so you are a Hausfrau, that's what I wanted to know and she wrote down my "profession" straight on that paper.

Great.
I am a Hausfrau, I am a Hausfrau, Hausfrau, I was repeating to myself like crazy, then laughed a lot and finished it with crying.
I've never thought I would end up as a Hausfrau :D last Hausfrau of my Matriarchic family was my greatgrandmother, I think. Even my grandmother, who had five children, never stayed home and taught at school, because she believed her intellectual abilities shouldn't go to waste. My mum remembers how exhausted her mum would be after school, but she still would do household stuff, help her own children with homework and only at midnight had she time for herself, to read her favourite Russian poetry and prepare lessons for the next day.
So, dear Grandmama Sophia, I'm not sure if you would be proud of your Hausfrau granddaughter if you knew her now.

Back to the point I started this post - financial independence.
Even though I can spend reasonably, you know regular and normal families don't spend too much, we're just one of those families, that save and go for discounts, or shop at Aldi and Lidl.
Still, I feel bad if I spent too much, because I didn't earn that money and I feel like I should be more considering what to buy and what not to. Or if I want to buy something that is above Aldi and Lidl prices, I always think twice.
I've never been a big spender or a big fashion shopper, but I could buy things before more freely than I do now. It also must be having a baby, because now I tend to buy more things to him than to myself, and very often his clothes are more expensive, than mine, which is probably not very good, but then the quality question comes first, - children should wear good shoes for healthy feet development, they should wear 100% cotton clothes (while I can wear H&M's fake Bio Cotton) and so on...
This is very stressful for me and very often I can't explain my feelings to anyone, because they don't really understand or realise. Most people think women that stay at home do nothing and whatever they do, can't be compared to the real outside world job, but nobody realises how mentally exhausting it might be - when you are depended financially and don't have any real days off, because the job of mum is 24/7.
Plus I am absolutely terrible at making money, so dumb, I don't know why. So if anyone assures you all Jews are rich or can be ones, please send them over to me so I'll give them a good punch. Really! :P

I hope I'll be able to make that lady write down my real profession one day, so I'll be paid for that job and will feel happy and accomplished, as my Grandmother did.

Scary Schimmel

I am almost sure many of you have seen those American movies about girls moving to Europe or exchanging apartments with, let's say, British people and etc. And behold, disaster - rusty sewerage system, molded walls, squeaky doors - come over as soon as they move in.

This is old lousy Europe.

If finding a flat in the west Germany is almost impossible, over here, in the east, there are plenty of apartments one can rent (after millions of people left for the west in 90's). Comparing to the western prices, the eastern ones are quite reasonable. Did I say reasonable? Nothing is reasonable in life if you really ask me. It's all about us searching for reasons, but never finding them and making up our own.

Anyway, the story is about our apartment. We've been living here since June of 2011. I liked this place at the first sight just because there were 7 memorial stones of 7 people deported to different concentration camps on the doorstep. It meant so much to me and my husband to rent a flat in a house where 7 Jewish people lived, loved, suffered, and then were thrown out from their own homes like they were nothing. 6 of them were executed in Auschwitz and 7th one, Salomon Weininger, if I remember his name correctly, actually fled from the camp back to Leipzig and was hiding for couple of months before he got caught again and was sent to Latvia, where he joined other 6.000 000 Jews in heaven.
So imagine how symbolic it was for us, orthodox Jews, living in this place and keeping the Torah commandments everyday - so uplifting for those perished souls.

Now realistically, the flat was quite cheap, near the synagogue and our community centre, which is important for us to be able to walk there on Shabbat. It was sunny with high ceilings and very comfortable kitchen. So we rented it and moved in after the wedding. Summer was great, Autumn was also lovely, but Winter - that's when the walls in the kitchen and bathroom started to mold. Scary. But we fixed them and lived on. Then we had Ezra in April. Sooner came Summer and we still lived sunny life, so was our second Autumn too.
Ooh, Winter again.
All this mold began to come out since December 2012 and we just can't stop it. We painted the wall, spreyed the liquid to exterminate it, but it would appear in a month's or less time. So unpleasant and not good for health.

When I started cleaning for Pesach the other day, I discovered that in every room behind the heating batteries walls are molded, some less, some more. Then we called the "Hausmeister" who would be the guy in charge about technical things of our house. Now he has to come with some guy who could fix and take off the mold if it's possible. I hope they will not tell us it needs to be seriously repaired and all. It's just before Pesach time and I am beginning to get very nervous, I definitely don't want people coming over and do capital repairs.

Wish us luck in finding new flat - CLEAN and in a good condition not like this old moldy one. Because even the 7 memorial stones and all the romantic stories I imagine can't make us live here anymore.

Little Boy's Tzitzis

My little friend who goes to school in Germany told me that his tzitzis accidentally pulled out and children started to laugh at him. They mocked, if it was his tail.

I have never felt sadder in my life when I heard this.

Nothing happens accidentally. Nobody laughs accidentally. I am not the one who believes in signs, but I do believe in causality if that's a proper word. I believe there are causes and effects, there are situations, places, spaces and faces we have to overcome in our lives.

It's "something" saying that we don't belong here. I know I've been claiming for all my life that anyone can live anywhere and nobody has right to set borders. Everyone should live and go wherever one feels going. Everyone should be happy.
Obviously not.

We can never be happy living in a strange land, speaking foreign language and be weirdos - wearing tzitzis or long sleeves in summer not conforming like others do. We will always be the ones crossing the river and shaming others.

When I told my husband that story, he said, one is never happy away from home and we've been away forever.
Will we ever be back? :/

This song melts my soul.

Thoughts for Chol ha moed Sukkot

I've been thinking lately that this blog isn't working anymore and I probably should be thinking of making something new, write often and more openly. I am not sure though if I am able to do that. Let alone that I don't have that much time and as Ezra grows older he needs more attention from me, he needs to be entertained all the time; second thought was, English is not my mother tongue obviously and I might not be expressing myself well writing in English; and last but not the least - I am not honest. I mean, I am sometimes but mostly I think I am not. No, I am not pretending or anything, I just omit many many things that are going on in my life, things that bug me a lot and I just don't write about them.
Should I be though?
The only annoying (all right, sometimes there are more) thing about Judaism is that you can't and shouldn't criticize people but work on yourself and if somebody really gets on your nerves, you should go and tell. You should not get angry in any situation because getting angry equals worshiping idols which is THE major sin of all. Unfortunately we are all idol worshipers every now and then, especially when this very idol happens to be our own ego.

Anyway.
That day passed and I think I won't leave this blog. I'll try to write whenever and whatever I can. I really wish I could write interesting posts here. I've been reading loads of blogs, but there are so few that I really like. I think there is only one actually. This young Australian woman, Talia, who must be somewhat of my age blogging about her family and cute 8 months son.
There are some other blogs too, but they get boring. But this girl Talia keeps it so simple and natural, you don't need to try hard to like what she does. She was quite inspiring for me to continue blogging in English actually, to be what I am, what I REALLY am no matter how hard it might be.

What about Sukkot, you'd ask me. I think this year's holidays have been very very hard for our family as my father-in-law almost died from terrible heart attack just before Shabbat that proceeded Rosh Hashanah. He's been in hospital since then and most probably he won't be able to get back. This is unbearable for his wife and sons, especially my husband who is so fond of him. I might not be able to understand that feeling exactly but when I see my husband so sad and blue my heart is breaking. What do you say in times like this when you are sure it is not going to be all right? Nobody wants to hear you saying that it's G-d's will and everything is for the best. You don't tell that to people who lose their beloved and dear person, do you? Because no-one needs your stupid consolation. So all I do is being next to my husband and his family, and Ezra, baruch Hashem, is the sun that makes his grandma and everyone smile.
Sukkot is such a beautiful time of the year when all the Jews come out, build up the sukkah (hut) and live in it for 7 days to remind themselves how they left Egypt, wandered homeless, and only G-d was above saving them from hunger and thunder.
Exactly 3 years ago Sukkot holidays inspired me to start searching for my roots, for my nation and my G-d that is actually not only mine but the whole wide world's if only they knew it. Many things happened in my life since then, I went through many things as name and homeplace changing... and now here I am, far from that Sukkah I went 3 years ago in Tbilisi, Georgia, my hometown; now I am in cold Europe trying to keep the sun on my windows as long as it is possible, totally changed as mentally so physically (well, you have to change when you give birth and nurse, and don't limit the food at all) and growing older (hopefully wiser too) day by day.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because it's Sukkot, the festival of joy, time to receive guests in your hut and recognize the might of Hashem: nothing in this world is yours, even if you own all the world luxurious villas and mansions, when it comes, it comes and you are out to wander again, homeless...
Jewish holidays are just wonderful, always reminding us where we were so we don't forget where we could also end up.
The Chol ha moed started today, couple more days and Shabbat again, then on Sunday night we will welcome Simchat Torah which is one of my favourite festivals. I'll keep you updated, bli neder.

(You see I am a master of hopping from one subject to other like Holden Caulfield. What scares me is that Holden was just 16 and I am 27.)

Up and up and up

I come home.
Open the post box and hope there will be a letter that I really need to get. All I get is taxes.
Go up and up and up.
Nothing.
Up and up and up.

Still nothing.
White walls and brown balconies.
I feel that the world has to disappear and reappear again. Then everybody would be either dead or happy.

Anyway.
Every word we say is empty. Every heart is cold. Every mind is blank. Every river streams down to nowhere.
I still try to go up and up and up.
Nothing happens.

Mascara gets ruined. Eyes get red and tired. Chocolate boxes go to the grey bin which is supposed to be the recycling bin for papers.
Everything gets recycled and recycled, new things come out and tend to be ecologically friendly, give me a break!
So we go up and up and up.
Still nothing but taxes to pay.

By Alabama Otis

Lights will guide you home

This post is dedicated to the memory of Sylvia Plath - my late inspiration.

Sipping my Earl Grey while there are words of the Coldplay's "Fix You" in my mind.
Trying to believe that lights will guide me home... home... There have been major changes in my life. Since March 23rd I've been engaged to get married. I am to be a wife. I am to be the one warming up home and making it into the coziest place for my husband and most irresistible castle for the non-friends.

I am so grown up while I still sometimes feel like this little Georgian girl wandering around the world who used to look for the light. Light guiding home, light guiding to the heart of the person who could be the light itself.

What does every girl dream of? Finding a perfect guy, to love and be loved. To get married, wear a white gown and feel like the queen of the universe knowing this must be the best day of her life.
I've never dreamed of wedding actually. All I ever wished was to marry a guy who would be worth of dedicating my life.
There is very famous German scholar Rabbi Hirsch who said love is something to come after marriage, after the time two people become one and I cannot agree more, but before two becoming one you need chemistry between those two; you need this divine or, let us say, physical attraction that makes them committed to each other.

Life is all about seeing the light and letting it guide you through darkness. We all know spiritual and mental darkness is the worst of all. Just have finished Sylvia Plath's "The Bell Jar" and once more realised that life is so hard especially for intelligent women. You may go insane by every little thing that comes your way and does not go your way if you know what I mean. More you think less you know.

Then you just sip off your Earl Grey and loving the last drop of it - bittersweet and so English tasting - warms you up and guides you to serenity. If there is any serenity at all. It is all up to you.

Runaway

Seymour Glass is the only suicidal man I love. And you know why did he do it? Because he had seen it all, he had loved people, read all the books, and just decided to go there where he would feel better. I think I would never be friends with Seymour for I would have fallen in for him and could've not noticed his deep spirituality. I am designed for Buddy who is crazy, witty and little clumsy comparing to Seymour.

Anyway (say it in New Zealandish accent), Monday's fading away and what I have learned today is that life is not causal, damn it, it is rough. I posted about Drew Barrymore on my Georgian blog, about her sad eyes in her new movie "Going the distance" and what I mostly wrote about her was meant for myself.

Seriously, I looked in the mirror yesterday and it was some strange woman looking at me with her red eyes and crazy hair (need to dye soon).
Although I look very fine on the photos even I could have not guessed what's wrong with me, but there is something wrong. I feel like a mouse in a cage, you know the one that is running, running and still remains there?
Because right now I don't know where to run. I have no particular place to call home :| For I do not feel home anywhere :/ As my old story's character Sunny would have said: 'Nothing is worse than being a flower cut off its roots and placed in a vase.'
Yes, I still miss my Georgia very much.

Like an Apple

Tea for one

I still haven't learned to keep calm when people do not behave well. I don't show it, I just leave the room and walk to and fro until my anger passes away. Today I felt that I was so small like an apple. It is always a problem. Feeling small and helpless. Miriam Masha (The teacher) spoke about 'emmuna and bitachon' (faith and trust) today, and it sounded so familiar to me, but sometimes I forget it. I lose bitachon. When I lose it I lose myself as well. I become like some strange person walking in my body and the soul as a trapped animal. Imagine how is it to feel like you are an apple: green, fresh, juicy, but small.

Maybe I should visit a psychoanalyst at last and not to rely only on my own analysis. That's how it all starts - being an apple and then becoming Napoleon the Bonaparte ;) Ok, now I am joking.

I miss my home.
I miss things like coming back home from the University and buying bread.
I miss sitting in my kitchen in the morning, listening to the radio and writing.
It is not a regular missing. No. It is something different. Really.

Pursuing happiness and sudden sadness

Picture by Victoria Usova

I always feel sad before departure. I love my home, my city and all. Even though I feel like stranger among people. There are times when I do not wish to talk to anyone and would love to dash somewhere far from civilization, live in the mountains, have country house, domestic animals and someone to look at and see myself in its eyes, if you know what I mean.

Everything passes, nothing really matters, but modesty and happiness. What can make one truly happy? I guess happiness is when you're settled down, have family, stable job and sense of security that G-d is with you, so are your dear people. I do have security, but sometimes I feel little sad though. I hope it will pass soon and I will be as sunny as usual.

According to the USA constitution everyone has a right to pursue happiness. I have such an American spirit, haven't I? :)

Apres moi le deluge?

This wind is killing me. Today when I was driving back home from bank thought to myself, what if this wind means the end of the world. Would I care?
Well. Not really. Apres moi le deluge, as cold hearted king used to say. Not only after me, I think I won't really care if the end comes right away and perishes the world for good. What will I know anyway?

So it is really stupid to think about nature craziness while you have no power to change it. Sometimes this nature thing really bothers me and makes me feel weak, but in the end I realize that everything has its reason, so when I hear the wind against my window, I should think about what have I done in this world, have I achieved all that I've always wanted? Or am I just the same baby one who came here and did nothing but eating and defecating?

I think I'm more than that. I should be.