My Israeli Family
What is ‘family?’ Is ‘family’ merely a bloodline, something we are born into, or is there something much deeper about the idea of family? Does the expression “family is all we have” ring true, or is our family not very different from our friends and colleagues, who we often spend as much or more time with?
My Israeli family rests somewhere within these complex borders. Genetically, my cousins are more like friends; my closest relative is a third cousin (my great-great uncle’s grandchildren!) and as my grandfather put it half-kidding (but also half-serious) after meeting one of my more attractive cousins, “you know, you’re not blood related!”
Still, blood-relation or not, my cousins took me into their homes like a son, who could not be praised enough for his decision to come to Israel. “Yoffi, Sam!” (Great, Sam!), my cousin Menachem would tell me after nodding contentedly at my subpar Hebrew skills or after I told him I was considering joining the Israeli army after college. (He would quickly follow by offering me some food. “Have something to eat, Sam! You see, you will tell your grandparents, there is food in Israel, yes?!) I grew closest with Menachem and Talia’s children; Carmel, Yitzhak, Einat, and Yuval welcomed me with warmth and of course—endless food! I’ll pick out a few highlights, but in general I would just say that my (very) extended family in Israel taught me an important life lesson: ‘family,’ whether your sister, uncle, or even third cousin, is something that should never be disregarded; it helps connect us, forms bonds that extend past friendship, and is something that can never be taken away—“he’s family.” It’s a relationship that I will hold on to tightly and look forward to strengthening in the years to come.
Passover Seder, April 20-21:
I had heard stories about the Passover festivities my family holds in Balfouriya, (a small town in Northern Israel). As I mentioned in my first post, I have over 200 distantly related cousins living in Israel today. My great-great uncle Mordechai Seletsky had nine daughters, each of whom provided their parents with a number of grandchildren—and quickly paved the way for what became one of the largest families in early 20th century Israel. In his will, Mordechai left his extended family the estate in Balfouriya and requested that his home remain a sanctuary for future generations to gather for a summer ‘camp’ of sorts and on special occasions.
Passover in Balfouriya is one of these yearly get-togethers: Over 100 cousins from the various families that have emerged over the past few generations come together to sing, dance, eat, and engage in the Passover Seder service. It was an absolutely amazing event: I met generations of cousins. From Rachel, my eldest cousin, to the youngest generation of kids, like Tal—Yitzhak’s son—the family’s sheer size is astounding. Tal is one of my favorites, and quickly adopted me as something of a ‘big brother.’ Ever so often, he would grab my hand and pull me to the room he was sleeping in; “I’m sleeping here,” he told me as he pointed to a dusty bunk-bed. “You can sleep next to me…if you want,” he stammered before searching my eyes. Earlier that day, I had impressed Tal with my obvious talents for plastic swordfights. And while the 6-year-old Tal had (miraculously) emerged victories, I guess I had proven my worth as a potential sleeping partner!
There were a number of other memorable moments; the size of the Seder blew my mind (see pictures below), the friendliness and enthusiasm of everyone I met made me feel at home, and of course—the food! The one moment that sticks out in my mind, however, was my introductory speech when my turn came to speak. “I’m Sam Levine,” I told the intrigued group of families sitting around the tables. “It’d take me a while to explain how exactly I’m related,” (I got a few laughs, but probably more puzzled looks), “but I would just like to say that I’m honored to be here, there truly is nothing like this where I come from, and I encourage all of you to look me up if you ever come to the United States!” I took some flack for my last comment, if only because—as Yitzhak explained—‘Israelis aren’t like Americans. They don’t just say things to be respectful. Now, you’ll have distant relatives showing up at your house, unannounced!” At the time, however, I was applauded by family at my table. The immediate effect was overwhelming. Cousins I had never met started approaching me: “How long are you in Israel for? Why did you come? How exactly are you related?” I made contacts from all over the country; everyone offered me a place to stay, and some even demanded that I take their phone number, email, and address. It’s comforting to know that wherever I might travel in Israel in the future, my family is only a call and short distance away. And if a family member is reading this, my offer still stands: just don’t bring too many friends!
Yitzhak, Menacham, Sigalit, and Justin
Trip up North:
Towards the end of my trip abroad, I spent some quality time with Yuval, Sigalit, and their children, Inbal, Chen, Shoshan and Royee. I wish I had written this earlier, because details escape me, but the weekend I spent up North at their home in Binyamina was one of the most compelling and fun weekends of my trip. On Friday I danced at a packed club with my cousin Inbal and her two Israeli friends. The scene couldn’t have been more different from my typical club outing, save for, perhaps, the blaring music. Instead of rap music, techno beats bounced off the black, bare walls of the club. Instead of the sweaty, all-too-personal ‘grinding’ I’ve grown accustomed too, people were actually dancing. And, it was even okay to dance alone! Who would have though!? I’m not sure which genre I prefer, but one things for sure: the European/Israeli style of dancing is much more laid back.
Then on Saturday morning, after nearly 3 hours of sleep (!), I traveled up North with family on an annual hiking trip to a friend’s gravesite. The whole event was touching: the basic story, from what I remember (take notes, you fool!), is that nearly three decades ago a member of Yuval’s classmates was killed in a car accident. The young man’s family, friends, and fellow unit members decided to make an annual trip to his gravesite in his honor. Now, many years later, two busloads of family, friends (and their families) participate in the hike and memorial service. The scene was moving; close family members and friends spoke about the young man, his good heart, his aspirations. He was “too young,” an older woman quivered, as everyone silently nodded. But what I remember so vividly from the scene was the inscription on the gravestone, “to young to die, to young to know what life is.” Like so many other young men and woman who lose their lives in Israel, Yuval’s lost friend was too young.
Inbal, Chen, Yuval, Sigalit, and Shoshan
Carmel, Justin, and the two cutest girls in the world (save for my sister, of course)
I want to give a special ‘shout-out’ to my cousins Carmel and Justin, and their two beautiful little girls Danielle and Maya. They welcomed me to their home in Kfar Yona on a number of occasions, helped coordinate my travels around the country, and were fantastic family emissaries: they made my trip to Israel that much more fulfilling.
Justin isn’t the prototypical Israeli; he hails from the UK, and actually goes back every few weeks to work. (Maybe not the ideal situation, but one that Justin and Carmel seem to have adjusted to well.) Justin’s a great guy: funny, a soccer fanatic, and he also loves to drink; from late-night Irish coffee to “just one more” glass of wine, Justin is a rarity among Israelis. In fact, not many guests even tried to stay with him, much to his disappointment. I was more than happy to fill in, (I was just trying to keep him company!) and on occasion, we became drinking buddies, or ‘mates’ perhaps? He also took me clubbing and introduced me to a whole new genre of crime/mafia shows on Israeli television. (Unfortunately, they do not compare to the Sopranos, my marker against any crime show.) Justin is also a great cook. I’m craving his English breakfast of sausages, eggs, beans, fried bread, mushrooms and tomatoes, and a healthy dose of ketchup right about now…Talk about a diet breaker!
Carmel’s a bit tougher than Justin, but has a great heart and a fun, loving sense of humor. She took a keen interest in my travels, helped connect me with bus routes and rides, and took time to introduce me to family whenever I asked. She also thought my studies abroad were a joke (which they were, to an extent). “So, Sam,” she would grin at me, “tough life eh? Really working hard, I can tell.” Carmel and Justin were a great help, and are great friends.
Carmel, Justin, and the two girls
In the end, family means many different things to different people. Israel gave me the opportunity to see a different face of my family; there are no huge gatherings in my American family or any hiking trips across the country. They are a much tighter-knit group in Israel. It’s something that I miss out on, and find myself craving now that I am back home. Maybe it will inspire me to reach out to family here. Or maybe, it will just give me an excuse to head back to Israel! I can think of worse things!