A Celebration Honoring the Life of RivkA

The Jerusalem Twitter and Blogging Community Would Like to Invite You To

A Celebration Honoring The Life Of

RivkA Matitya

For the Benefit of Meneket RivkA
A New Breast Pump Lending Center (Gemach) and Consultation Service

Thursday, March 24
20:00 at the Inbal Hotel

Twestival 2011

A Fun Night of Comedy, Music, Games, Films, Socializing and More

Featuring

The Music of Kolot Jerusalem Women's A Cappella Comedy by Lisa Gold and Benji Lovitt Improv by Hahafuch

Kolot

Lisa Gold

Benji Lovtt

Hahafuch

Minimum Donation: NIS 50 Adult;

NIS 30 Child; NIS 200 Family

100% of the funds collected will be donated to Meneket RivkA

About Meneket RivkA Meneket RivkA is a memorial tzedakah (charity) project in honor of RivkA Matitya a Jerusalem blogger (Coffee and Chemo), activist and educator who died of breast cancer this year. To honor her life and as a tribute to all that RivkA gave to us, the Twestival organizers have decided to support Meneket RivkA at this year's Twestival donating 100% of the funds raised to help establish this worthy cause. Meneket RivkA was conceived of by RivkA's friends, students and teachers to serve a cause that she truly believed in, carried out in association with the Jerusalem Breastfeeding Center and the Eden Center, and with the blessing of RivkA's family. Among RivkA’s many passions was breastfeeding education and support. As a La Leche League leader she inspired many women, both to breastfeed their children as well as to become breastfeeding educators and lactation consultants themselves. RivkA believed very strongly that breastfeeding, and breastfeeding education, should be accessible to everyone. She did not receive payment for her services, and offered breastfeeding help to anyone and everyone, even in the final weeks leading up to her passing. As a tribute to RivkA's passions, and belief in the importance of women's body awareness and health, an unique new service: "Meneket RivkA", a "Gemach" (Lending Center) for top-of-the-range Breastmilk Pumps for new mothers in need of such equipment but unable to afford it was founded in her memory. For more information visit their website About Twestival Twestival® (or Twitter Festival) uses social media for social good by connecting communities offline on a single day to highlight a great cause and have a fun event. Twestival is the largest global grassroots social media fundraising initiative to date. Since 2009, volunteers have raised close to $1.2 million for 137 nonprofits. All local events are organized 100% by volunteers and 100% of all ticket sales and donations go direct to projects. Twestival was born out of the idea that if cities were able to collaborate on an international scale, but work from a local level, it could have a spectacular impact. Over 200 international cities from Buenos Aires to Bangalore, Seattle to Seoul and Hong Kong to Honolulu have participated in Twestival. For more information visit Twestival.com and Jerusalem.Twestival.com

Our Local Sponsors

Please daven (or send happy thoughts) for the memory of RivkA bat Yishaya HaLevi.

With love and optimism, RivkA's family

Sandstorm in Jerusalem

Brown-gray sky

As if a heavy fog settled over the city of gold

The winter fogs have long been gone

The desert heat swept in

With the sand



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

Kever Rachel (Rachel's Tomb)

כֹּה אָמַר יְהוָה, קוֹל בְּרָמָה נִשְׁמָע נְהִי בְּכִי תַמְרוּרִים

רָחֵל, מְבַכָּה עַל-בָּנֶיהָ; מֵאֲנָה לְהִנָּחֵם עַל-בָּנֶיהָ, כִּי אֵינֶנּוּ

(ירמיהו ל"א:י"ד)

So God said: A voice is heard in Ramah,

lamentation, and bitter weeping;

Rachel weeping for her children;

she refuses to be comforted for her children,

because they are absent. (Jeremiah 31:14)

For years now, I have wanted to visit Kever Rachel.

A few years ago, "they" built this big new complex.

I was curious how it looks.

I remember Kever Rachel as a small, rather run-down, old building. I was there almost 25 years ago (when I first came to Israel). Back then, visiting Kever Rachel was an educational experience, not a political statement.

I am not big on davening (praying) at k'varot (gravesites). I do not need some dead person to act as my "intermediary", even if he/she was a really important person when he/she was a living person. (Except for my grandmother, who I believe is up in heaven, looking over me and making a lot of noise on my behalf!)

Moreover, I know that historically, it is unlikely that Kever Rachel is really Kever Rachel. (Though the tradition of that location probably dates back to the time of the Crusaders).

Nevertheless, do not try and take it away from me and my people!

As soon as it became difficult to go to Kever Rachel, it became important to davka go to Kever Rachel. But getting there is not so easy anymore. You can no longer just hop in your car and go.

Again, my friend MG, who is visiting from the US, wanted to go. So, I decided to go with her.

I could not take MD with me, 'cause he is a Cohen. But I did take A.

A few minutes after boarding the bus, we passed through a checkpoint and entered a concrete corridor. A minute later, the bus stopped opposite the entrance of a large building with a façade of Jerusalem stone. Across the street, a flowered traffic circle, and an empty parking lot, beckoned for cars that no longer come.

We entered the complex. Our footsteps echoed along the marble hallway.

There inner room was crowded; there was no where to sit. A did not feel like reciting Tehillim (Psalms) or her morning prayers. Instead, she said a short personal prayer. Then we went and sat in the larger, outer room.

"Are you always going to have cancer?" my sweet and innocent 10 year old asked quietly, as soon as we sat down.

We spoke about God and miracles.

We also spoke about living with cancer.

My heart felt like it was breaking.

I could not protect my little girl from the pain and sorrow, even though I was trying so hard.

I felt grateful that she felt comfortable asking the question. She is so acquiescing, so accepting. Yet, clearly, she is also sad and hurting.

Then, just as suddenly, A started talking about something else. I was a little surprised at how quickly she changed topics. But she was done, and moving on. So, I did too (at least on the outside).

A few minutes later, A went to get some water, and I went inside the inner room and recited some Tehillim. She joined me for a few minutes. When MG finished davening, we all left to catch the next bus.

For those who are interested: There is a subsidized bus (Egged #163), that runs along Derech Hevron. The round trip costs only 7.50 NIS, from anywhere along the line.

On the way home, MG explained the significance of Kever Rachel to A.

"Rachel," she explained, "is the spiritual mother of the Jewish people. Rachel suffered her entire life. Rachel grew up among idol worshipers; she delayed marrying her love, so that her elder sister could marry first; she died in childbirth, after her second son was born; she never lived to see her children grow up. Because of her suffering, Rachel's prayers are powerful. We hope that by praying at her tomb, our prayers will join hers. We hope that God will pay special attention to our prayers, because we are praying together with Rachel Imeinu (Rachel, our mother)."

We were on a bus full of religious people, mostly women, many of whom regularly pray at Kever Rachel. No demonstrations. No slogans. Just simple religious people on a spiritual quest. The passengers spoke in hushed tones, as though still within the prayer halls.

We left behind the large, beautiful complex, with marble halls and a façade of Jerusalem stone. The bus lumbered through the silent corridor, lined with towering concrete walls.



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

The Kotel, Har HaBayit & Ma'ale HaZeitim

A good friend of mine, MG, arrived in Israel Wednesday night.

My sister called me on her way home from the pool, with my two younger kids. When I told her that MG was at my home, my sister scrapped her plans to take my kids out to pizza. Instead, she picked up extra pizzas and joined us for supper!

We hung out for a while, then my sister went home. MG wanted to go to the Kotel (Western Wall).

"Now?" I asked, hoping we could just hang out at home.

I am not such a big Kotel person. Jews started praying at the Kotel because non-Jews ruled the land of Israel and forbid Jews going up to pray on Har HaBayit (the Temple Mount). The Kotel is not inherently holy; rather, it became our spiritual destination because it was the closest we could get to our holy site, Har HaBayit. Now that Jews rule the land of Israel, we should return to praying on Har Habayit.

Ideology aside, my friend really wanted to go to the Kotel... now. So, I abandoned all hope of going to sleep early, and took her to the Old City.

It was 11:30 at night, and there was no traffic. As we drove into the Old City, I turned to my friend and said "You know, with my "handicapped parking" sticker, I think we can drive right in and park next to the Kotel." If I was wrong, at that hour, it would be quick to drive around the Old City again. "Let's try it," I said with a grin.

It worked.

We parked in the plaza. It was pretty cool.

My friend went up and davened (prayed) next to the Wall. I hung back and thought about... things (Har HaBayit, politics, my family, my health....). Eventually, I picked up a Sefer Tehillim (Book of Psalms) and recited the first few psalms.

Afterwards, my friend mentioned that she has a good friend that lives just outside of the walls, to the left....

"Oh," I responded, "I drive home that way all the time."

My friend thought I must not have understood correctly, since left is towards "East Jerusalem" (where mostly Arabs live) and right is towards "West Jerusalem" (where mostly Jews live). But, when there is a lot of traffic, I often cut thru Ir David (Silwan), and Abu Tor, to get home quicker.

It turns out that her friend lives even further to the left, on Har HaZeitim (the Mount of Olives), in a relatively new neighborhood called Ma'ale HaZeitim. When the neighborhood was founded, apartments were really cheap. Today, people are lining up to buy apartments there! (you can still rent for cheap, but if you want to own a place, you better start saving!)

It was almost midnight, but we decided to go visit. I had never been there and I was curious.

MG's friend MW was so cool!! We had a great time!!

At one point, MG's kids called to talk and MG was just chatting away. I felt a little anxious, because I needed to get home and bake a cake for my youngest daughter's birthday party!

No problem! MW suggested we put together the dry ingredients at her place; then I could just "shake and bake" at home! (referring to a commercial product from our childhood)

As you know, I'm not a big baker. I bake three times a year. (my husband does not even get a cake for his birthday!). But this was fun!

It was 1:00 in the morning, and I was baking with someone I just met, in a really cool Jewish neighborhood in East Jerusalem!

Just before we left, I went outside, onto the front porch/entrance of the building. We were literally meters away from the Jewish cemetery. Suddenly, a thought struck me: Can cohanim (who are prohibited from entering a cemetery) visit here? Turns out, this is not a simple question and there are different opinions. (I'll have to look into this further)

MW explained a bit of the history of the land. It was purchased as agricultural lands by Chabad, during the time of the Ottoman Empire. The Jews of Jerusalem used the fields to plant wheat for shmura matzas for Pesach. In 1948, the lands were confiscated by the King of Jordan and the fields lay dormant. In 1967, when East Jerusalem was recaptured by Israel, the lands were returned to their lawful owners. Irving Moskowitz purchased the lands and is developing the new neighborhood.

I was interested in hearing more, but it was late, and we were all tired.

As MG and I drove back home, I could not help but be amazed at how close these people were living to Har HaBayit.

What a zchut (privilege)!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA

The Circus is in Town!

A few days ago, we drove by Teddy Stadium, and I saw a big, giant, PURPLE, circus tent!

Today, I finally contacted Bimot* and found out that there were only two days left!!

(Unless we want to go see the circus in another city.... NOT)

CONFLICT!

Tonight was my book club meeting and tomorrow night we have a Bar Mitzvah.

What to do??

Now, you regular readers know how much I love my book club. But what could I do?

I briefly debated sending my family without me.... then I rejected that option.

After all.... it's the CIRCUS!!

So, I blew off my book club and went to the MOSCOW WATER CIRCUS with my kids!

Definitely the right choice!



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA


* Bimot is a local ticketing agency. I organize groups discounts to local shows and performances. If you are interested, you are welcome to join our group.

Happy Birthday to Me

"I got you a gift for your birthday" Moshe whispered to me, as we were going to sleep Monday night, reminding me that my birthday had arrived (according to the Jewish calendar, each new day actually begins during the night before the new date).

"That's sweet," I answered, as I drifted off to sleep.

"I'll give it to you tomorrow," he said, "on the day of your birthday."

"OK," I answered, only briefly wondering what he could possible get for me. (I am not into Jewelry or other traditional gifts)

But the next morning, we rushed off to the Brit (ceremony of circumcision, marking the entrance of a Jewish boy into the covenant of Abraham) of Moshe's sister's 8 day old son. The morning was spent in joyous celebration of someone else's birthday. I didn't even remember my own.

Later in the afternoon, we were all home, in anticipation of the snow storm. I went into my room, to rest, and surprised my husband and daughter, who asked me to leave the room. As I left the room, I suggested that my room isn't the best place to prepare surprises for me. My merry elves, agreed, but did not move their workshop.

A few minutes later, Moshe gathered the kids together to sing "Happy Birthday" to me. Y presented me with a "Happy Birthday" sign, and was a bit insulted when I noted that everything was spelled correctly. (I thought I was complimenting her....)

Then Moshe handed me the gift (which Y proudly announced that she had wrapped). I could tell it was a book. And, once again, I wondered what kind of present Moshe would choose for me.

As I opened the wrapping paper, I saw that it was actually two books. Then I noticed the gold covers, and knew what books they were.

Background:

Every year, shortly after Pesach, for one full week, ALL books in Israel are on Sale. This week is called Shavua HaSefer (Book Week) and it is a wonderful Israeli tradition. In Jerusalem, there is a large, outdoor fair, open from morning until late at night. Each publisher has a small stand and it's possible to wander for hours, from stand to stand, examining hundreds (thousands!) of books)

Moshe and I wanted to purchase updated map books and siddurim (prayer books), so we waited for Shavua HaSefer, when we'd be able to get everything in one place, and on sale. I thought Moshe would go by himself, but he thought it would be fun to go together. So we made a "date."

When we arrived at the fair, I thought we'd kind of walk around, look at a few book stands and absorb the atmosphere. Even if we had the funds to buy more books, we were out of space on our bookshelves. Nevertheless, Moshe wanted to visit every single publisher's stand (and there are a lot!). I could have skipped most of them, but Moshe found books that interested him in almost every stand.

There were a few stands that interested me, mostly the stands of publishers who publish Israeli history books and books for tour guides (I had hoped, before I got cancer again, to resume my work as an educational tour guide). Ariel Publishers had many interesting books, including a book by Prof. Eilat Mazar, about her archaeological discoveries at Ir David (the City of David). But the book that really caught my eye was a gold covered book with pictures of Jerusalem at the turn of the century (late 1800's to early 1900's). "There is another volume," pointed out the salesman, "one is of the Old City, and the other is of the New City."

Moshe and I stood there, flipping through the pictures. "Look at this one," I kept saying to Moshe, transported back in time to the places that I know so well. I knew Moshe wouldn't object if I wanted to purchase them, but I was acutely aware of our budget. Reluctantly, I put the books down. We moved on.

As we moved from stand to stand, it became clear that the fair was going to close before we had time to visit every stand. "I want to come back tomorrow," Moshe declared. "That's fine with me," I responded, "but you're coming on your own. I don't have the patience to do this again." It worked out well, because the store with the siddurim (prayer books) didn't have enough of the kind we wanted, and would bring more the next day.

Over the loudspeakers, we heard the announcement that the fair was ending for the day. On our way out, we passed the Yad Yitzchak Ben Tzvi stand. It was huge, and had many books that interested me. I almost bought one of the Jerusalem tour books, but I couldn't decide if I should get it in Hebrew or English. The Hebrew version is a bit more comprehensive, but the English is easier for me. I hate decisions, so I put it off (until next year...).

Not surprisingly, we were among the last to leave the fair.


Back to the Present:

As I pulled the books out, I was touched that Moshe had remembered how much I loved those books.

"But we didn't get them on sale," I blurted out, without thinking.

"We didn't?" Moshe asked, with a sly grin.

"You bought them during Shavua HaSefer?" I asked in disbelief.

Moshe just smiled.

He had bought them, and hid them for 6 months, so that he could give them to me for my birthday.

"Thank you," I said, as the tears rolled down my cheeks, "thank you."



Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.

With love and optimism,
RivkA