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.

20 - 30 - - 40

Right!

I turned 30 last week. 30, people, is not a joke.
Although I remember like yesterday when I turned 20 and threw a pajama party, invited my girlfriends and had this deep, spiritual couch talk about different things: what we wanted to be, how we wanted to leave a trail in this world and where we wanted to go to fulfill our calling. We were so young, fresh and full of idealism.
I hoped and almost believed I would be that kind of journalist, who saves the world; my childhood friend thought she would get married soon and have bunch of kids, the other one wanted to travel the world, fourth one of our gang just hoped she would finish her studies and find a good job to rent a flat and move out from her parents'.

So, where are we now?

You know about me, being big fat Mama Sophie - wife of the most Yiddishe man in the world, mum of two naughty boys with Biblical names, and daughter of the most liberal and intelligent lady in the world. I am basically stay-at-home mama, cooking, baking, yelling, often singing and dancing with my children; also naturally bossing around like every mum, who has to do so or things will not be as she wants them to be.

As for my childhood friend, who wanted to get married right away, she hasn't got married yet (no kids either), but she works very hard and is happy about it. The "traveler" one is happily married with one baby girl and second child on its way soon, she hasn't traveled anywhere since then ;-) and the fourth one, indeed found a good job and all, but she hasn't left her parents' yet because her dad got sick, soon passed away and she decided to stay home and comfort her mum.

These are our stories. Very realistic, down to earthly, nobody saving a planet, nobody conquering the Everest, but - living the life as it came down to us, you know?
Most of the times that's how it is, isn't it?
We never know how we "end up", because at 20 none of us can be aware of what is really GOOD for us. In GOOD, I mean, what is right and logical. Priorities change so easily.
And I am a big believer of GOOD things, you know that ;-) I believe everything has its reasons and seasons, if I could put it this way. My people and I don't believe in coincidences. Hashem's will is in EVERYTHING.
Even Jesus Christ knew that, who rebelled against us (oh, happy birthday, by the way :-) Jesus and I are both stubborn Capricorns, aren't we?) and yet all he said is a mere paraphrasing of Jewish Prophets (see Isaiah and Jeremiah) and the Talmud.

Anyway.
I like that I am this old.
30 seemed so old, when I was 20. I thought it was the end of fun, and actually it is :lol: not for everyone, but for the "real slim shady mum" like me, because I don't care much about anything else, but my family nowadays; surely I do about parents, relatives, friends and then comes the world. 20 year old Sophie wouldn't believe in that, but 30 year old one strongly does.

I like that I can look back and see that so many things have happened in my life. There's much more good coming, I know, but the past was ok too, thank G-d. It was hard, but it helped me to appreciate the life afterwards.
I grew up in dark 90's of Post Soviet Georgia and did my homework like Jane Austen in the light of diesel lamp, because electricity was a luxury then and we had it scheduled, couple of hours in the morning and 3-4 hours in the evening. I know, it sounds bizarre now (probably not for most 3rd world countries), but that's how it was. I studied hard, because only that could help me in life. And probably that was/is something that I've been good at, rather G-d made me that way.
School, University... and then came traveling...
Then the Spiritual Quest...

Then Him.

Him again.

:-)

Chuppah.
Love.
Children.
Crazy busy Mama life still in progress.

I think I am fine with all.
So, yeah, it actually does take 30 years to have things figured out and realised who you are, what you want and where you need to be.
Now I can't wait till I am 40 :-D

All the credit and thanks go to the great Creator of the World. Baruch Ata Hashem!!!

Have a nice week!!!

Photo a day or two, maybe three - 1

To motivate myself and blog here often, I decided to make this tiny project called "photo a day (or two, maybe three)". No matter how lousy my shot might be, I should post and tell a story.

So this is a first attempt.

My Sunday Fuchsia nails and my antique laptop as a background. Even if they don't seem fuchsia enough, they are. At least that's what was written on the bottle.

As for my laptop - don't laugh, ok! I've had it since 2006. My mum gave it to me as a present after my first story was published. 

This is my first and only laptop so far. I had dreams about buying the Apple one, but do you think the girl with the soviet and socialistic past could've or would've bought it? For sure, NOT! I don't like to pay much for those conglomerates that rule our lives anyway. Ok, I know there are many people working for those companies that need to feed their families too, but I still don't like them.

Well, maybe I could've surrendered in the end if I had enough income myself to afford it, but since my husband is the only one working hard, meaning he would've paid for it, I ignore all the Apple temptation and stick to my old Fujitsu Siemens - so I'll be faithful till its death do us part.

Last but not least: hey, we live in East Germany after all - most minimal and hippie area, it would be betrayal to the tribe to have luxurious things, wouldn't it? :D

Cities

An acquaintance of mine said to me the other day, that whenever she starts thinking about intellectual matters and sort of tries to train her brain, her head aches like crazy.
She made me feel better about myself for that's what I've been feeling last 13 months.
Sometimes I can't recognise myself, I get emotional very easily, my speech gets nervous and writing - worse. There are times when I re-read my posts (mostly in Georgian, because you shouldn't ask much from me in English) and they are so illogical. Not that I've ever minded logic, but still, I used to write well (at least to some taste).

Then one rabbi who is also our family friend, gave a class couple of months ago and told us, that somewhere in Talmud it states that woman continues to have her "pregnancy mind" for two years, especially if she's nursing.
When I was in the midrasha I used to say that Talmud isn't studied by women only because it's all about what men think and say, and we (wise girls) know that men never understand women, they are from different planet, so women will not bear studying a book which is only based on men's wisdom.
So now I really take back my words, Talmud is right. Pregnancy mind (rather lack of it) definitely continues for more than a year - I am living proof for that.

After couple of months we had Ezra, my brother-in-law came over for Shabbat and before dessert we decided to play some game. Since you can't write or use various muktzeh things on Shabbat, we started to play this very Soviet game called: "Cities". It goes like this, 4-5 people are in game; one of them picks any letter from Alphabet and says a name of a city (e.g. Leipzig), and second one says the name of other city beginning with the last letter of the city mentioned before (Leipzig - Glasgow), so it continues like that (next one will be Glasgow - Weimar). Time is also very limited there, VERY MUCH indeed, you should say the city names in one-two seconds, quicker you are, the better.
Now I'm trying to remember the suitable expression to my failure in that game.
I couldn't recall the cities of Georgia, let alone the worldwide. My mind was blank. All right I could've named some of them after thinking for couple of minutes, but not in seconds definitely.
So I got very upset, left the room and cried my heart out. My husband tried to calm me down reminding me what our midwife had said abour postpartum time + nursing = mini-dementia.
I was upset and embarrassed anyway, because I used to be quite good at that game and knew loads of cities.

My husband asks me every now and then if I'd like to try, but I am scared and always say, not yet.
You know what though? Having written this, I realise that I probably will play this Shabbat. It's time to overcome the embarrassment, it's my family after all and no-one will laugh at me if I fail again.
I can't let the pregnancy mind become me, if you know what I mean. Plus, I am not pregnant anymore and it's been more than a year since, I shall give it a try.

What a great mind-[en]lightening thing is blogging, isn't it?

Post Soviet Kitsch Again

I used to quote Regina Spektor's lyrics, but lately I have kind of forgotten her. The other day I found a new video of her show in Moscow and was very excited to watch and listen, but was quite disappointed. Because I did not see or hear same Regina - emotional, excited and happy like we all remember her at Lollapalooza 2007. I know people change, time changes and older you get, more money you need, but I didn't like that show, just being honest.
I expected something different, with more quality; one more thing that annoyed me was that she sat or stood too far from public which made the atmosphere not Reginalike at all. I believe when you are a live musician and performer who usually communicates with people, you should be closer with them and make them feel comfortable.
Maybe not for Moscow public but for me it is very important - to have communication with artist, that's why I usually go to shows or watch videos. I need to be close to people to feel them, if you know what I mean, for that people should let you closer and not sit away.

Regina Spektor is one of very few artists who had extraordinary life, emigrating from Soviet Union to America, going through problems that many of my friends have gone and found herself in music which has always been her passion and she's definitely great at.
She's one of those people you would like to be friends and go out for a walk. One that doesn't need to talk much, but look at you with her deep and clear blue eyes and make your day.
I've always liked her, perhaps because I've kind of associated myself with her - also loving Russian poetry and having this post soviet trauma that nobody will be able to overcome.

Mentioning this trauma, who knows, maybe it was all about Moscow and her childhood demons, that she couldn't open up and be the Regina we've all known. These demons are larger than life, I know that and don't judge anyone, I just wanted to see and enjoy my favourite artist who is like nobody else in this business of cheap and shallow.

Designed not for me

Few are my years, yet I feel the world was ne'er design'd for me...

George Byron

Have you ever thought about it that better person you are, life is way difficult for you? You try to live right? You meet so many obstacles you just run out of breath. You are a sunny person by nature and love to cheer up others, others will do their best to bring you down. You want peace and they force you to join the war.

No, I am not mad.
I AM VERY MAD.

No matter how old I grow, I still cannot stand the injustice of the world. Sometimes I wish so much I could talk a serious talk to G-d, but then realize He is not a man, if you know what I mean. You can't really talk to a wind, or a rain, you can't talk and ask explanations from someone who has created everything around, can you? Because you are mere nothing and nobody really asks (or has ever asked) your opinion about designing this world.

I am as positive as it gets, but I also get frustrated because life kicks my ass for good, you bet. There are so many things I wish I could have but my socialistic spirit wouldn't let me. Then I know it's all stupid and vain, I should be more flexible and all, but I can't.
I can't have luxurious things when I know there are children starving, and families begging for help; when there is war and people die. You never know (and never cared probably) the dreams of those people who get killed in war, do you? You never know what made them laugh or sad. You never know what they thought they would do next day which never came.

This post is complicated as most of my writings. I think I should just rename this blog and call it a girl with the post-soviet trauma. I shall do that right away.

I lose friends and hair anyway, what I really have is G-d because one is never sure if He's really there or not which means you can't lose someone/something that has never truly belonged to you. It is like you will never lose the world because it was and is, will be without you, so is the G-d. Or I'd rather say, it's universe like G-d - my eternal pain.

What really matters

Last year three little girls came over asking: süß oder sauer (sweet or sour), meaning trick or treat for Halloween. I had exactly three candies in the cupboard and gave them.
This year I had a big plastic bag full of candies that my husband collected on Simchat Torah and since Ezra can't eat yet, I thought I would give to those Halloween Kinder. When I said that, my husband told me what he thought about it. Halloween is not even a religious festival as far as I know, but something related to Kelts and spiritualists if I am not mistaken. So he thought, for us, as religious Jews, it might not be appropriate to give children candies on this day let alone the fact that we don't celebrate Halloween.

Later my husband went to kollel where married men study Talmud and I was home with Ezra and my mother in law. I was baking a cake by the recipe of my mother in law (who is a terrific baker actually) when someone rang the bell of our door. I sneaked out and there was a little skinny boy in black mask standing and waiting for candies. I hesitated a bit then remembered what my husband had said before and decided not to open the door at all. Little boy turned away and rang at our neighbours' next.

Well, I can't tell you that I felt too bad, but I felt little weird. Halloween is stupid, all right, I've never celebrated it because in the country where I was born nobody knew about it until 90's. I felt like we, humans, create and destroy the world in the same time; while I could make that boy happy giving him candies, I thought about religious issues what one would think of us giving candies for Halloween. Who knows, perhaps this act of kindness would have had positive influence on that little boy when grown up? Imagine, he probably will remember that people didn't open up to him and never gave him candies for Halloween, so will he do too in future.
What if because of situations like this we DO make and put ourselves in ghettos not others?

It is hard.
At least it is for me because I come from most warm and openhearted place of the world where you didn't care much about one's religion, well me and family never did. I am sure my husband's family didn't either because they also come from Soviet world; but the Ashkenazi roots and memories are remained so deep in the conscience of my husband I can tell, that he has this anxiety of not getting too close to non-Jews and their festivals. He may be right, may be not, but his opinion is very important for me and I respect it more than anything.

Once more I realized that no festival is worth of one's family and relationship happiness. If my husband feels good, I feel good and I can absolutely find another day and other kids to treat them with my full bag of candies.

Learning to love

I think I am learning to love. It's weird to realize that it took me 27 years to learn how to love.
Ezra taught me. When I look into his eyes and see my reflection, I know that even if I failed in my career and never found the job I wanted, I have got him.

It's not always that easy though. Ezra and I went to supermarket yesterday and met my mother in law outside the train station. When we stepped on the escalator to go down where that supermarket is, we talked. Suddenly some afroamerican man started to shout at us. It appeared that he was standing behind us and because I took little more time to move Ezra's stroller over, I blocked his way. Man, was he rude. He definitely heard us talking in different language and realized we weren't Germans, that's how he got chutzpa to shout. I did not tell him anything back. I felt awful. You know why? First thing that came to my mind was the line from O'Henry's story where the Doc tells to the Yankee: "You freed our slaves and fought with them against us". I am the least intolerant or racist person but I absolutely shared the anger of the Doc about freeing the slaves. I know one single stupid man doesn't mean anything but you must be very cruel and evil to shout at the woman with the baby.
Note well, that Germans, especially old people in a public transport or shops have been extremely nice to me and Ezra so far.
So when people complain about Germans, I often tell them that they haven't done anything worse [to the Jews] than other nations (e.g. Spanish inquisition, Ukrainian kazaks with Khmelnitsky or Bandera...), they were just better organized as they always are.
I live in Germany since 2009 and have never faced any racial problems with Germans, but emigrants/immigrants have been ruder very often.

So yesterday I did not love people. I hated one of them.

I've always been an advocate for racial or religious tolerance. I've always been saying that the world belongs to each and every human being, therefore one can choose to live wherever one would like to. I have indeed lived in various countries of Europe and even though some say Europeans tend to be racists, I've never had any problems with this for local people were always very nice to me.
Now I'm hesitating about supporting emigration. I even doubt if the whole world is ours and we can live anywhere...
This time I felt so small realizing that I don't actually have country of my own. Neither I speak the national language nor am I citizen of it which makes me somewhat of an alien, doesn't it?
I wrote to a friend in Georgia the other day saying that we will probably never know what it's like living in a normal democratic country, happy and peaceful, we are such poor offspring of post-soviet utopia.

Eretz Israel.
Eretz Israel.
Eretz Israel.
When are we going to go back home, Dad? Are we at all?

So, I stopped loving the world right away. Our sages were so wise advising, first, learn to love your close ones, your nation and then go loving and saving the world.
I am not saving it anymore!
I am learning to love myself and my people properly.

Babies and mamas again

Seriously, sometimes I get sick of those mamas talking only about their babies and what drives me mad is when I read their letters. G-d!
How come everybody's baby is an angel?
How come others' babies sleep like lambs through the night?
How come they go to sleep by themselves, no rocking, no singing, just a kiss goodnight and there they go?

 

Lovely Emma Bunton (baby spice) with her baby boy

I just don't believe them.
My baby doesn't sleep through the night and I believe that's natural.
He's not an angel, thank G-d. He has a personality and in Judaism that matters a lot. Angels are considered as G-d's slaves who have no freedom of choice unlike humans. So, my baby is a real human - he cries, fusses, wakes up early in the morning and scratches my nose with his tiny nails and makes me happier than anyone can be.
He doesn't go to sleep by himself. He needs to be soothed and rocked, and cuddled and kissed and held tight to mummy's chest because that is the most safe place in the world.

We are not perfect, thanks to Hashem, neither me nor Ezra. I can't tell you whether we strive for it or not. I just want to be the mum that will always be there for her son and make him feel secure. I hope I shall be the extraordinary mum giving my child freedom and independence while setting some limits so he learns right from wrong.Well, I am my mum's daughter, can't fight it (I will always be amazed by how great she's been, may she live long and healthy life!!!).
And Ezra wants to be happy for this moment. He just wants to play with us, have fun, be cared, loved and nurtured as every other human being. Sounds like the Smiths' song, doesn't it?

I guess I lost the point.
If you really want to know, I take it easy. I shouldn't and don't judge those mums. They just seem superficial to me. How can they be so calm and happy with everything? Do not their babies cry at all? Have they never thrown up on them? Haven't they been hurt in the beginning of nursing? COME ON!
There are few blogs where I've read honest mums and keep reading them. They are great not trying to be the ones they are not. 
And then comes the light when I tell myself, Sophie, why don't you relax and enjoy your life, I mean, get mad if you want to and be the kind of mum you like, forget others. But I am a human too, you know, and I tend to believe I might be better than others which is not nice at all, I know. Because no-one is better than other; we are all same. The difference is only in culture and geographic psychology as such. Just forget the religion and my soviet background in the upbringing. I am still the sunniest sun in the world that believes in green juicy apples and LOVE.

Good night, loves!
:)

Post-Soviet Me

'You know, it's all just humor. Don't take life so seriously. Don't take fashion too seriously. Don't take the movie industry too seriously. Don't take love and your relationship so goddamned heavy all the time. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Life is high school and it's small and everybody talks about everybody, so just laugh your ass off.'

Drew Barrymore

It's not always so easy to do so we all know it. I wish I could be as lighthearted as Drew states herself in this sentence.

If I were born in sunny California I might also feel that way. Sure it is easy not to take life seriously when you haven't spent your childhood in the destroyed Soviet Union in 90's, or you've never experienced learning English by the light of the gas lamp. No jokes here. When I was at school it was absolutely normal for the electricity to go on and off, and doing home work near the terribly smelly gas lamp was just a regular evening thing.

Why do I recall all of this?
I don't know.
It has been my life and no matter how fast I run I can never get away from it so all I have to do is to write it down and let you know.
I often have dreams about the past; the past that was so surreal you would not believe and sometimes I don't want to believe either. Dreams about people that are there no more, dreams about the places that have faded away and the feelings that came out false and dreams about this little piece of flesh beating in one's chest and making the blood boil...
But dreams always end by the morning and another surreality starts which is known as real life and which is more illogical than the dreams one had last night.
I guess the Soviet Union was a dream too. Unbearable dream for some people. Utopia. And Utopia is nothing but surreal, isn't it?
So you can never blame this little (relatively) me of being irrational or too rational because I am a product of the gas lamp generation; the product of the lame American movies and the wall that has never been there even though the whole world claimed it was.
All my friends are the products too. Not only friends but all the people that lived around that time and by the end of the 90's did not know whether laugh or cry after becoming the citizens of so called democratic republics (for this I recommend you amazing German movie "Good bye, Lenin").
Democracy, my feet. As some people would say politely.
There is no such thing.
There's only dream, dreamers and G-d laughing at the latter.

Sometimes I do feel that life is not worth of eating oneself. Then I am carefree and laughing out loud realizing the vanity of being. I am not the first one to notice that becoming psychotic about things do not make them work actually, you only win when you are calm and self confident.
And again, does winning always means getting what you really want or need?
No it doesn't.

Therefore:

What you need you already have and what you want is just a matter of time, that's what would I suggest and keep smiling not minding my dark post-soviet childhood.

P.S. I've been 27 since last Friday :) that makes a girl think, no?

Controversial love of mine

This morning I woke up and realized that I miss Midrasha a lot. Particularly coming down to the kitchen filled with dozens of girls making mess on the table, kitchen desk, then myself giving them a "mussar", sometimes even being harsh on them and still loving them all so much.

You will never know this feeling if you have only lived home under the wing of your mum eating vanilla cream muffins every morning and kissing your dad goodbye. Girls of the midrasha are so controversial from different countries, family backgrounds, education, age, social and intellectual abilities, mentalities... So what, Abraham Ybn Ezra would say, don't expect me to be perfect when I am living in this controversial world. I love Ybn Ezra and I love my very dear controversial midrasha of Berlin - best place to grow up spiritually and physically, to learn how to get on with the various girls with various characters, to speak different languages and still every Shabbat going to synagogue and singing the beloved tune of Lecha Dodi, no matter who came from where, everybody loves and enjoys being Jewish there. Even people who want to become Jewish and feel the connection had come in the midrasha and felt the difference from the rest of the seminaries: that is what I call - authenticity. Authenticity of each and every girl, each and every teacher whether they come from Soviet Union or United States, or even very sophisticated Great Britain and fancy South Africa, everyone's dedicated and has one goal:
to be right, to develop and grow the love to Torah in every girl's heart. And as we all know, it is mostly about heart when it comes to the girls.

Last week Rivkah Carl, the former madricha, called me up to say goodbye for she was leaving next day to the states. I felt such love towards her. One needs so little to feel happy and glad; we spoke about the past year in the midrasha, the ups and downs, but hey, who could recall the downs? NOBODY. There is always 'ups' over there in the Lauder Midrasha, even if sometimes girls feel lonely and tired, under pressure or under excitement (for example if somebody's getting married and they have to get dressed and made up properly), but in the end of the day they could always find Rivkah, or Michal (the one and only em bayit Mrs Garrett, who I love so much), or even me (not so calm and wise as Michal but always ready to give a huge hug to anyone needed) to confide in and talk.

I don't know how it is going to be this year in the midrasha. There will be new management, new girls, new teachers, new family living on the third floor where all of us used to stick up colorful papers on the wall writing messages to the Garretts. I believe this new zman will be wonderful with Hashem's help, but we will never be the same, will we? We all grow up and change, leave the midrasha and have it also leaving amazing trail on our mind and soul. May all of us who have been or will be there always take positive, useful and sunny messages from the very controversial place of the world.

Lastly, not least though, thanks to Josh Spinner for founding place like this and giving us this opportunity. May you live long and happy life with your lovely family!!!

Safe?

It's been just fifteen minutes fast of 9th Av is over. My husband's not back from synagogue yet and I have time to blog sipping herbal tea and looking through my window.

Life in Leipzig is very quiet. Germany is very quiet country indeed, you hardly ever hear loud speech or arguments among people. Everyone lives their life, say cold hi to each other, then lock their doors behind and feel safe.

What's this "safe" though? Safe from being helpful to others? Safe from being disturbed by your fellows? Safe from giving attention to someone needy?
I don't need this kind of safety if you know what I mean.
And I realized this today when my husband and I went to the Leipzig Tora Zentrum to watch a movie about Ytzchak Zilber - the famous "refusnik" of the Soviet Union who left for Israel in early 70's and never stopped being an observant Jew.
After he was accused of being a G-dbeliever and "abusing" his children to observe commandments like not writing on Shabbat and not eating non-kosher food, many people advised him to deny his religious belief but one old lady told him: 'If you leave G-d, who would stay with Him then?'
He never left Him.

When you see or read stories like this you realize how easy our life is - nobody's telling us to leave the faith and sometimes we still feel so under pressure. I guess it is because we have been bombarded by the world media to live on our own, be 'safe' and never let anyone to disturb us.
Why do we disturb G-d all the time though?

When we answer that everything becomes clearer and hopefully never lock the doors behind our fellows.

Wishing all of you to rebuild its own temple, be loving, caring and thoughtful to the people around.

Old New Year

Have you ever heard about such a holiday???
I HAVE.
It comes from old times and is celebrated in eastern orthodox and post- or pre-soviet countries.
Every 14th of January is OLD NEW YEAR! Most of the people cook, clean and get ready for this day as for 1st of January, new year, you all know.

So tonight I am going to have fun.
Lilu and I are home alone, we have vodka, chocolate, movies and what else do you need for the old new year of mine?