Ground Zero
""You can't see everything in New York, but that's what's so special about it, that it leaves you wanting more.".
I heard this sentence from my wife every hour, after visiting the charming neighborhoods of the world's busiest city.
My conclusion: This is true of any unfamiliar place. In other words, Kiryat Ata also has its moments.
So, that's right, we took a ferry to the Statue of Liberty. A green block of stone that stands in the center of an island near New York. The statue is nice and the awareness of the story behind it adds a historical charm to it, but the headache that comes with a ferry ride with a thousand tourists from all over the world, just taking selfies at every corner, spoils the fun a bit.
What is the need for photos? I don't intend to convince anyone I know, using a photo of me holding up two fingers [why two?], that I actually visited the place.
From there we continued to the artistic part.
At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, considered one of the most important art sites in the world, there is a price list stating that visitors pay $25 at the entrance. Of course, you don't have to, but most innocent visitors are unaware of this.
We, as Israelis, were aware, and chose to donate a dollar. The clerk didn't smile and counted the money out loud, grimly adding up to six dollars.
In the museum itself, I saw that my daughters were quieter than usual. They stared at the tens of thousands of stone statues of Roman, Egyptian, and Greek heads for a long time, and didn't say a word. I was happy that they were showing interest in art, but then the little one said: This place makes me sick.
I turned to her older sister, who refused to share her conclusions with me. She agreed to say only this: "If it were up to me, I would destroy the place with one big atomic bomb.".
I managed to get the impression that they didn't really enjoy the place, and on my father-in-law's advice we went to Ground Zero, to visit the 'Freedom Tower' built on the spot where the 'Twins' once stood, which were destroyed in the 2001 attack.
The view from a height of 1,772 feet over New York City, the islands, the bridges, and the oceans is one of the most memorable sights I've ever experienced, although one thing didn't dawn on me: why is the place called the pretentious "Freedom Tower," if dozens of ushers accompany your every step and make sure you don't deviate from the exact route they set.
At one point I tried to cough, but my wife and the black clerk next to her caught my malicious intentions, and their stern gaze made it clear to me: Wait until after the guide's explanation.
He spoke for about 20 minutes.
Leave me alone.
You won't have a problem with food in New York, everyone promised, the city is loaded with kosher and strictly kosher restaurants.
Well, not exactly.
A fun-filled day-long trip from Borough Park to Flatbush with a stop in Williamsburg will lead you to grocery stores and restaurants with Jewish names, from shtetls to good kosher ones - but in Manhattan, with its never-ending buildings, the situation is a little different. You have to look.
The internet, and a leisurely two-kilometer walk with 46 thousand other people, led us to a dairy restaurant that was noted as offering kosher salads, cheeses, and fish. But then it turned out that the shelf below the 'kosher' cheese sold chicken nuggets, meatballs, and other delicacies. You can, of course, mix meat with cheese, kosher as we remember.
Meat, fish, cheese, how is that possible? Well, this is New York, anything is possible.
An hour later, I found myself trying to talk on the phone. In English With a guy from a restaurant named 'Mandy'z', who interrupted me and told me in Hebrew: "You're right in front of me, my brother, just go down the stairs.".
It was a strictly kosher restaurant, and the manager was a former Israeli. I jumped up to him and hugged him happily. He spoke Hebrew and offered kosher food.
I'm sorry he didn't see things eye to eye like I did, because he politely asked me to leave him alone, to step back a meter, and finally tell him, for God's sake, what I see to order.
Just come.
The attitude towards Chabad in Israel is divided into two: those who do not like Chabad, and those who have ever left the country's borders.
It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to imagine a Jew of any denomination, living abroad, exposed to the unwavering love of these Hasidim, who ask for nothing from their guests, not feeling affection for them.
Manhattan is the most expensive city in the world [my father-in-law told me, as I recall], and in the heart of the city is a beautiful Chabad Lubavitch building.
What do you do on Shabbat in this very gentile city? You go to pray in the Jewish center, and just like an Israeli, you don't announce it in advance.
As expected, we were cordially invited to a rich Shabbat meal [I estimate that the value of the dish each of us ate ranged from $20-30. There were seven of us, and about 300 people were sitting next to us].
During the meal, a Hasidic sat next to us who was interested in the reason for our coming, offered to help [physically and spiritually – a blessing in Zion], and asked for only one thing in return: that we come the next day for the meal, even if not for prayer.
This column is dedicated to the mother who claimed to have lost interest in 'Haredim 10' due to my trip. So here is a text from your loved one, and on this occasion you will be able to see that there are some other good and fascinating writers on the large Haredi news site - Haredim 10.
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