Lockdown - day 4

Hard to believe it's only been 4 days, although technically it's been longer -- I started working from home the day after WOMAD, because I was certain I'd caught something and was going to pass it on to my co-workers.

Hard to believe that was only two weeks ago -- we were there with 17,000 other people, packed in like sardines, when the government announced it was starting to take Covid-19 seriously. There were only 6 confirmed cases at the time, but we knew from other countries that it was going to explode. That Saturday they started restricting international travel, but of course it was already in New Zealand. The day after WOMAD, they banned gatherings of more than 500.

The week before WOMAD the government kept telling us we just needed to wash our hands more. At WOMAD, I lost count of the number of people who left the toilets without washing their hands. They walked right by the sanitation station without a second thought. It was at that point I realised we were all going to die.

So I set up my desk in the garage and told work I'd be working from home for the foreseeable future. A few days later, the company announced everyone should be working from home where possible. The schools were still operating -- the government was still trying to manage a veneer of normalcy, and said they'd only close a school if it had a confirmed case, and then they'd only shut the school for a few days to disinfect it -- but our kids' schools saw the writing on the wall and held a "learning at home" day to see how it work. The "school" part worked fine, but all the kids met up afterwards so the "social distancing" was a complete failure.

Of course we wanted to tell our kids, "Don't go, that's crazy, haven't you been watching the news?" but we also didn't want to be alarmist, so we let them go. Our homestay student's father - the GP from Seattle who was on the frontline dealing with this - gave her strict instructions to stay home and isolate herself. She went and spent the afternoon with her boyfriend. (She forgot to turn off "Find my friends" so her parents could see where she was, so that didn't end well...)

Meanwhile, my wife wasn't feeling well at all. She'd developed terrible body aches about two weeks earlier, and her GP had referred her for a CT scan. They'd scheduled it for 30 March. Some times she was fine, but other times - especially at night - she was in agony. We kept waiting for the hospital to call to cancel the CT scan, but we didn't hear from them. On Friday we thought, fantastic, she's going to get the scan and we can figure out what was wrong and start treatment. Friday afternoon they called to cancel.

(Technically, they didn't cancel it; they referred her to a private radiologist who was taking over all "elective" scans. We have no idea how long it will be before they schedule something.)

Yesterday we did two things: Our synagogue had an online service - my wife and eldest daughter were the chazzans (cantors) and I wrote the drasha (sermon) - and we went to Moore Wilsons. M-W is a Wellington institution, the equivalent of Smart & Final (named after Jim Smart and Hildane Final) in Los Angeles, except much, much nicer. They have a fresh food store and a "warehouse-style" store that caters to restaurants but is open to the public; about twice a year we blow a paycheck on 3kg bags of nuts, dried fruits, dried beans, chocolate, tortillas, etc. This time we were after one thing: Bragg's Nutritional Yeast. There has been in short supply because, apparently, the last batch shipped to New Zealand had incorrect nutritional labelling, and it all had to be sent back. Since my wife had gone vegan this had become her seasoning of choice, and M-W was the only place that had it last time. (They didn't have it this time, but we still spent $200 somehow.)

The real reason I mention it is because since the lockdown started, the government has said you should stay local and only shop for essentials, and driving into town for nutritional yeast did not seem to fit that definition. They had given police power to stop vehicles and issue fines, so I was a bit nervous, but I assured myself it was highly unlikely there'd be any police on the roads. We weren't even out of Karori when I saw a police car behind me. And we were the only car on the road.

Thinking quickly, I realised my company had been designated an "essential business" and although I was not an "essential employee" I figured I could bluff my way through it. To bolster my story, I turned off the route to M-W and headed toward work. The police car continued on his way, oblivious to us. I made a U-turn and went to M-W. Although there was a huge queue for fresh food, the warehouse section was virtually empty, since there were no restaurants to service. We filled our cart and headed home without further incident.

We now have more than enough food to last us the month, except the only thing the kids are eating is cornflakes because they can't be bothered to cook anything. They have more time than ever before and yet won't take two minutes to make a sandwich, or boil some noodles, or eat some fruit. I don't understand this, but I am looking forward to when we run out of cornflakes to see how they handle it. That should be tomorrow...

Drasha

Adapted from "Encountering God in the Sacred Silence" by Rabbi Ben Spratt[1]

This Shabbat we begin the Book of Leviticus. The book opens with the word Vayikra, which is translated as "And [God] called." For the philosopher Franz Rosenzweig, this single word summarizes the substance of all that was revealed to the Israelites on Sinai – God called to humanity. The Torah and all the subsequent writings are simply our response.[2]

There is also an orthographic oddity in this single word, Vayikra. Written in the Torah, the final letter, aleph, is half the size of the rest of the word. Last year I spoke about the Ten Commandments and how some thinkers imagined the only thing God uttered was the first letter of the Ten Commandments – the letter aleph, the letter of silence.[3]

Out of that silence, God calls out to us. Our early Sages imagined that since the dawn of time God has been calling out to every person at every moment: Abraham was simply the first person to be silent enough to notice. Moses was the first person to see the burning bush. Elijah was the first to hear the "still, small voice" on the mountaintop.[4]

Our tradition believes the universe was created with words and encourages us to fill our homes and sanctuaries with words and song. We fill our days with noise and use "white noise" to sleep. Take away our sensory distractions and we become uncomfortable. In silence we are forced to hear the things we so often drown out: The soul, the solitude, the questions of person, place and purpose.

In 1654, French philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote, "All of humanity's problems stem from a person's inability to sit quietly in a room alone."[5]

Vayikra, God calls out to us, in each moment of each day. Let us be still and silent enough to hear.

Shabbat shalom.

---

[1] https://reformjudaism.org/learning/torah-study/vayikra/encountering-god-sacred-silence

[2] The Letters of Martin Buber, 1925

[3] Radical Judaism: Rethinking God and Tradition

[4] I Kings 19:12

[5] Pensees, 139

Day 3: Homestay

I'm referring to our international homestay student, from Seattle. She's our third homestay student in the four years we've been in this house. She is 18 and was a senior at high school, but her mother decided to send her abroad for the last 6 months of school. Within the first week of being here, she reminded me of everything that's wrong with America.

Dont get me wrong, she's perfectly lovely, but she walks around all day with earpods and can't put her phone down for a second, not even at the dinner tabke. (We've learned to text her when dinner is ready, because she doesn't hear us call.) Her room is a pigsty, and even though we don't allow food in the bedrooms, we keep finding empty chip bags and candy wrappers. Her parents sent her with $500 spending money for the six months and she went through that in less than two months, mostly on coffee and bubble tea.

But what's really annoying is her parents. You can almost hear the helicopter blades. She's 18, and presumably they sent her to New Zealand to learn independence, but they still treat her like she's 12. They send us emails suggesting we take away her phone at night! We smile and nod and ignore them.

When Covid-19 started making the news, I didn't realise Seattle was one of the first cities hit, and while I knew her father was a doctor, I didn't realise he was responsible for part of the response. (We even saw him interviewed on the Seattle news the other day.) When Seattle shut down their schools two weeks ago, we commented about how lucky she was to be here and still attending to school. 

A few days later, the AFS - which enables American students to study all over the world - decided to recall everyone. It made sense as an organisation, but in cases like ours they were moving kids from low-risk areas to high-risk areas! That said, we knew New Zealand was headed in the same direction and it was only a matter of time before we'd be in the same situation, so we spoke with her parents last Friday and agreed she should go home. 

On Monday we heard from our homestay student that her parents had decided to leave her with us! She said they were going to call us, but they never did. It was bizarre. 

The next day, New Zealand announced the lockdown, schools were closed and we were in exactly the same situation as Seattle, only with an extra child. 

So now we have a 19-year-old who desperately doesn't want to live at home, an 18-year-old who is 12,000 miles from home (and couldn't get back if she wanted), a 17-year-old who is incredibly moody and a 15-year-old who wants nothing more than to go skateboarding, but (I kid you not) he broke his skateboard the day before the lockdown! (Amazingly, he ordered a new one online and they shipped it before the government clarified that couriers could only ship "essential supplies.") 

Day 2: How to run a lockdown

When the NZ government announced the lockdown, they used the term "essential services" a lot, and assumed everyone knew what they meant.

It turns out, a lot of business owners - especially those faced with the prospect of no income for a month - think they are providing essential services, and have no problem sending low-wage employees to work, undermining the whole purpose of the lockdown.

The Warehouse - New Zealand's equivalent of Kmart - announced to their stockholders they were an essential service and would stay open. The government had to announce they weren't, and they wouldn't. 

Butchers across New Zealand not only assumed they were essential, but they stocked up on meat in expectation of higher demand, before the government told them they weren't essential, and that meat is now going to waste. 

My favourite story is Celebration Box, a stupid company that will send an expensive box of cheap chocolate to someone. They've been in the news repeatedly over their appalling customer service, including delivering Valentine's day gifts up to a week late! It was discovered today they were still operating, albeit they'd replaced their "donut box" with a "fruit box." (It's $30 for 17 pieces of fruit.) 

(You can read more about them at 

http://www.stuff.co.nz/business/114322872/commerce-commission-finds-celebration-box-may-have-breached-the-fair-trading-act) 

Chemists (phamacies) and grocery stores are essential and we're fortunate to have both in the little mall across the street. My wife and I went in the side entrance to find both had queues, because they were only letting in a few people at a time, so she got in the queue for the chemist and I got in the queue for the grocery store. What I didn't realise until later was that the queue for the grocery store extended out the main door and around the block, but because they were trying to space everyone apart, what I thought was the end of queue was actually the middle. Oops. 

What was interesting was my response to the situation. Two days ago, the risk of catching Covid-19 was about the same, but we were all packed into the grocery store and everything felt normal. Today, with only about twenty people in the entire shop, it felt very scary. I was suddenly aware when people violated the two-metre "social distancing" rule. I assumed everything was contaminated, and didn't want to touch anything. I wished I'd grabbed a face mask from the civil defense box; even though I know they're not effective, I wanted one anyway. 

I was happy to get out of the shop and get home to my "bubble."

Fwd: Isolation, day 1

At 11:59pm on Wednesday, 25 March, 2020, New Zealand went to "alert level 4" requiring all non-essential businesses to close and everyone to stay home (apart from shopping for necessities or exercise). We aren't even allowed to drive (unless we're shopping for necessities).

Day 1: We ate the cat. We all agreed that we should have held out a little longer, but we all knew it was coming, and the cat was kind of annoying. The dog has been exemplary since then. He's even started doing the dishes.

Seriously, we're very lucky because we can both work from home. The kids were all laid off from their jobs, of course. The middle child was quite upset because she's saving all of her money for her gap year. The youngest was quite upset because he needs a new skateboard and he keeps destroying his shoes skateboarding - he goes through a pair every three months - and we're not buying him new ones. The eldest wasn't bothered because she's got a student loan payment of $238 each week, she's living at home for free, and she doesn't have to pay any school fees the first year.

The eldest was about to move into a flat with four other students the day they announced the lock down. She (wisely) decided not to spend a month in isolation with four strangers (and did not want to pay rent for a month while living elsewhere). She was not happy about spending a month here, but neither was her mother. 

Of course we know the lockdown will probably be longer, but we can't tell the kids that. The day before the lockdown even started -- but school was cancelled and they couldn't see their friends -- they were already telling us they were bored. (We told them anyone who says they are bored gets extra chores.)

School holidays have been moved up so they have two weeks off, then are supposed to start online learning. It's a brave new world here. I'm not clear what the university is doing and neither is my daughter - she spends the day baking and practising guitar. (Did I mention she's getting $238 for her student loan when she has zero expenses?) 

The eldest moved into my study and my desk got moved to the garage. This wasn't an issue at the time, but I didn't think I was going to be working from home for an extended period! I had to move the desk closer to the door in order to get WiFi, and if I close the garage door the WiFi is cut off completely. As a result, I can only work there when the weather is nice; the rest of the time I'm at the dining room table.

I'll save some more for day two. It's been a long time since I've written anything; we'll see if I can keep this up... 

Planning, planning and more planning

I don't understand how other people do it.  I seem to spend so much time planning, there's not much time left for living. But I don't feel like I'm overplanning; there's just so much to manage.

After being away for 10 months, my eldest came home on Tuesday. She is leaving for summer camp on Dec 28 (she is leading it this time) so that gives us just two weeks to sort out everything she needs for uni. 

On top of that, my wife and I have to take holiday between Christmas and New Year's so we wanted to do something with the family, and the kids voted for Tangariro Crossing.  That's normally very crowded during summer so we decided to do it on Christmas day, when it should be quieter.  We normally have a Christmas lunch with family so we moved that to the 24th, because they are on the way to Tongariro.

Last month I booked a cabin at a holiday park, and a shuttle to take us to the start of the crossing/pick us up at the end.  Then the shuttle service emailed to say they were closing for Christmas and refunding my money.  I found another (for 25% more) and booked a 7am shuttle. (It's an 8-10 hour walk, and I wanted an early start so we weren't rushing to catch the shuttle on the other side.) Yesterday they emailed me to say they were moving it to 8am.

We have to come home on the 27th in order for my eldest to fly to summer camp on the 28th, but my wife and I still have 5 more days of forced holiday.  We are trying to save money so so we decided to go camping, but even that is $75/day for a campsite with toilets and showers.  (In New Zealand, it's considered glamping.)  We also have to decide where to go.  (All signs point to Paekakariki, which is where we've gone the past four years.)

Wellington does a nice New Year's eve party (with fireworks and a big band on the lagoon) so we'll go camping on New Year's day, then be home on the 4th as the other two kids leave for camp on the 5th.  I'd like to say I'm looking forward to a house without kids, but the next day we go back to work.

The following weekend, we go to visit the kids.  (We are gluttons for punishment.)  We fly to Auckland Sat morning, have a day to ourselves, then spend Sunday with the kids and fly home Sunday evening.  I planned something fun for that weekend, but it's a surprise. :-)

The kids will trickle home between the 15th and 22nd, depending on how many friends they have in Auckland.  Jan 23 is the eldest's birthday, but we've organised a family dinner on the 24th.  On the 25th we leave two kids home alone and fly to Dunedin, at the very southern end of New Zealand.

On the 27th - while we're in Dunedin - one kid starts school and the other goes to school camp.  We're all home on the 28th and we have four days of normality before we have to attend a wedding in the back of beyond. I've booked a cabin for one night, we'll go rafting on Sunday, then drive four hours home.  (Google maps says 3 hours, but Google maps assumes you're single and have a large bladder, a small stomach and a trunk full of energy drinks.)

We're not done yet, because that Thursday is Waitangi day, a national holiday, so my wife and I are going to Napier, our son is going to Abel Tasman, the middle child has a dragonboating event (she's co-captain of the school team).  After that she is practicing after school for two hours, three times a week, until the Wellington festival in March.

The following weekend my eldest is finished with "summer school" (an intensive 3-week physics catchup) and so my wife is going to fly down and help her move to the halls of residence.  As she is flying out, my middle-child -- who spent three weeks in France last year -- has her exchange student flying in.  She is with us for three weeks, although the school is taking them to the Marlborough Sounds one weekend.

Finally things quiet down for a month...and then hopefully we're off to the UK.  (I still haven't bought plane tickets....)

Parashat Ki Tavo - drasha 21 Sep 2019

Deuteronomy 27:11 - 29:8 (third triennial) 

We’re in the middle of a very long speech which started three weeks ago with, “See, this day I set before you blessing and curse” and concludes next week, in Sage Green’s portion, with “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life.”  In today’s portion, we actually get to the blessing and curse...but I’m not going to talk about that.

Instead, I’m going to talk about the location, Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. In Genesis 12:6, parashat Lech-Lecha, we read: “Abram passed through the land as far as the site of Shechem… The LORD appeared to Abram and said, ‘I will assign this land to your offspring.’”  Shechem was in a valley between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. Today the town is called Nablus.

Today, the Israelites have come full circle, but it is a different generation and they are doing things differently.  As Dena Freundlich writes, “Gone is the passive experience of the generation that leaves Egypt through God’s miraculous intervention and lives by God’s protection and sustenance in the wilderness. Enter the new generation that will conquer the Land utilizing military ingenuity, and then invest herculean efforts to farm that Land. Similarly, the focus is no longer on the laws themselves, as it is at Mount Sinai, but the consequences for observing or violating the laws. This generation will forge their own destinies.”

Rabbi Uri Sherki of Jerusalem echoes this theme: “The ceremony at Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal can be seen as a kind of negative image of the revelation at Sinai. At Mount Sinai, the people who had only recently left Egypt, who now subsist on manna in the wilderness; all that is asked of them is to listen to the voice of God. Upon entering the land, however, their hierarchy of values is turned on its head. In the land of Israel, nature takes the place of miracles; God’s voice does not emanate from within the fire; rather we must broadcast God’s voice on our own. In the land of Israel, the divine word does not come from some mountain that towers above us; quite the opposite, the Levites stand in the valley and call out God’s message.”  Instead of God inscribing the two tablets, Israel is enjoined to “set up large stones. Coat them with plaster and inscribe upon them all the words of this Teaching.” (Deuteronomy 27:2-3)

Rabbi Hillel Lieberman, who was murdered 19 years ago in Nablus, took two triangles, one pointing up to represent Mount Sinai, the other pointing down to represent the valley between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. When combined, he said, “the two triangles form the basis for the essence of the covenant between the nation of Israel and God. Is it coincidence that this combination of the upright triangle and the inverted triangle was chosen as the symbol of the nation of Israel?”

Dena Freundlich continues: “The covenant to be enacted on Mounts Gerizim and Ebal upon entry to the Land is the second generation’s Matan Torah, the revelation of the Torah, of establishing their unique relationship with God. The message is this: Matan Torah is not an event frozen in time to be pulled off the shelf of our collective memory every so often, dusted off, and remembered wistfully as something that occurred long ago for our ancestors.”

(I would also argue that the differences between revelation at Mount Sinai and revelation at Mounts Gerizim and Ebal is not a typo, nor the faulty memory of a 120-year-old Moses, but the deliberate evolution of interpretation and engagement by the people.  This is a proud progressive tradition that stretches all the way back to Torah.)

Our Matan Torah occurs every week. If we follow the triennial, and attend every shabbat, we should hear it all every three years.  What a far different experience that is from the visceral, awesome experience of our ancestors! The advantage of reading it in small, easily-digested bites is that it lets us dwell on the details, to draw parallels with modern life, to tease out lessons.  The disadvantage is that we forget this is part of an epic tale told to a young nation to inspire, to bind together and to create a foundation for society. We lose the forest for the trees. Torah was not meant as a series of vignettes. And it was meant for every generation to experience again in their own way, on their own terms.

As we head into the high holy days, I invite you to read one book of the Torah, beginning to end. Reconnect with this central tenet that connects us all. You don't have to discuss it with anyone; you don't have to derive any deep meaning; you just have to experience it, one-on-one...as our ancestors did...as they intended us to do.

Shabbat shalom. 

https://www.etzion.org.il/en/parashat-ki-tavo-mount-gerizim-and-mount-ebal

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/the-real-message-of-mount-gerizim-and-mount-ebal/

https://m.jpost.com/Travel/Around-Israel/Sites-and-Insights-Mount-Ebal-and-Mount-Gerizim

https://mfa.gov.il/MFA/ForeignPolicy/Terrorism/Victims/Pages/Hillel%20Lieberman.aspx

Drasha Parashat va'etchanan (17 Aug 2019)

Today’s parashah contains the ten commandments, the sh’ma and V’ahavta -- “You shall love the Lord your G-d with all your heart” -- and many other recognisable passages.  It’s like a greatest hits album: “Now that’s what I call Torah!”

The ten commandments are particularly fascinating.  In the Torah, these are the only laws publicly proclaimed to all Israel; the rest were given only to Moses. Whilst its not clear in Exodus if the people heard G-d’s words or just thunder, in today’s portion Moses recalls, “The LORD spoke to you out of the fire; you heard the sound of words but perceived no shape—nothing but a voice.”

As Jews, we consider these “the first ten commandments;” Maimonides laid out the other 603.  At the time of the Talmud, the ten commandments were considered part of the sh’ma and read aloud at every service.  However, as Yael Shahar wrote in Haaretz, “The sages of the Talmud argued against giving the Ten Commandments special prominence, so as not to give ammunition to heretics who claimed that only the revealed law was important, and the man-made amendments were not.”  As a result, Jews were encouraged to recite the ten commandments at home, but they were only read out in shul three times per year: two Torah readings and at Shavuot.

The term “ten commandments” is problematic. Exodus 34:28 uses the term, Aseret ha-D'varim, which is more accurately translated as “ten sayings.” Had the Torah meant Ten Commandments, it which have used Aseret ha-Mitzvot.

The Aseret ha-D'varim are thus understood to be classifications, and all other mitzvot -- which are of equal importance -- fit into these ten categories, some more obviously than others.  For example, all mitzvot around holidays fall under “keep the Sabbath holy” because holidays are in some sense a Sabbath. The mitzvah not to stand aside while a person's life is in danger fits under “you shall not murder,” but the mitzvah not to embarrass a person is also characterised as murder, because embarassment causes the blood to drain from your face.

Even the number “ten” is problematic, because there are actually 12 sayings!  We combine the first two -- “I am the LORD your G-d” and “You shall have no other G-ds beside Me.” -- and the last two -- “You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife” and “You shall not crave anything that is your neighbor’s.” -- to fit into ten.

Judaism teaches us the first five commandments are duties to G-d, while the second five are duties to other people. The fifth commandment, though, is to honour your father and your mother, which would seem to be about people. However, the sages argued that our parents are our creators, and disrespect to our biological creators is an insult to the Creator of the Universe.

We’re also told if one must choose between an obligation to G-d and an obligation to a person, then the obligation to a person should be fulfilled first, because people need our help while G-d does not.  This is drawn from Genesis 18, when Abraham is convening with G-d but rushes out to welcome the three strangers 

Next, consider how the ten commandments are represented, not only in art but at synagogues. The Torah only states “two stone tablets,” but they are usually depicted as semi-round on the top. According to Zvi Brettler in “The Ten Commandments in American Life,” this is a medieval Christian tradition, based on the diptych, and would have been unknown in the ancient Near East.  It is much more likely they would have been rectangular.

No biblical tradition states that the commandments were split evenly, five and five. Moshe Weinfeld, a biblical scholar at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, argued that ancient Near Eastern treaties were typically copied in duplicate, with each party keeping one copy. Since this was a covenant between G-d and and the Israelites, it seems likely both tablets contained all ten commandments.

These depictions also ignore what is explicitly written in Exodus 32:15: “tablets inscribed on both their surfaces: they were inscribed on the one side and on the other.”  Obviously, if you’re carrying around a stone tablet, you’re not going to leave half of it blank!

As I said, the ten commandments are clearly presented as a covenant between G-d and the Israelites. It starts with, “I the LORD am your G-d who brought you out of the land of Egypt.”  It was directed at male upper-class property owners. It was never presented as a universal system of ethics, applicable to all humanity, like the seven Noahide laws.

In fact, as an ethical system it has some serious flaws.  As religioustolerance.org notes, “You shall have no other G-ds beside Me.” is fine for a personal covenant, but applying it universally would effectively ban freedom of belief, freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, etc  “Visiting the guilt of the parents upon the children” is profoundly immoral, as is requiring children to honour their parents even if their parents abuse or neglect them. The last commandment treats women as chattel and condones slavery!

The King James Bible interprets the 7th commandment as, “Thou shalt not kill” but the Hebrew word, lo’ tirtzach, is more accurately translated as, “murder.”  Killing that is sanctioned, either by law -- capital punishment -- or by the government -- such as war -- is not only okay, it’s enthusiastically promoted throughout Torah.

In early Christianity, Paul argued the new “Jewish Christians” were no longer bound by Mosaic law and, according to the Encyclopedia Britannica, “the Ten Commandments had no particular importance in Christian tradition until the 13th century.”

Between 1265 and 1274 CE, Thomas Aquinas wrote Summa Theologica.  In the section on “The moral precepts of the old law,” he identified three types of biblical laws: moral, ceremonial, and judicial. He held that moral laws -- such as the ten commandments -- were permanent, while ceremonial laws -- such as kashrut and circumcision -- were not.

The Catholic church incorporated the ten commandments into confession, and in the 16th century Protestants incorporated them as a fundamental part of religious training.  (They still rejected the “ceremonial” aspects, such as how to observe the sabbath, or even which day to observe it on.)

Today, Christians embrace the Ten Commandments as their own. In the US, they argue they transcend religion and underpin all of Western culture.  They want to post them in schools, public buildings and courthouses, and believe it is part of the common Judeo-Christian heritage.

The problem is, most Christian denominations consider “I am the LORD your G-d” to be a preface, not a commandment, and exclude it.  Catholics consider coveting property to be separate from coveting a spouse, while Protestants consider the prohibition against idolatry to be separate from the prohibition against worshipping other G-ds.

Thus, by choosing one version, they are elevating one religion over another, and by referring to them as "THE Ten Commandments" (as though they were the only ones) they are teaching a message that Judaism considered and rejected long ago.

So once again our sages were wise and foresaw that something that seems to unite can ultimately divide, and that by minimising the role of the first ten commandments, we can open ourselves to all 613. (Number 12 is, “To learn Torah and to teach it.”)

Shabbat shalom.

335 days to the UK

The working assumption is that our next major holiday will be in the UK, April 11-24, 2020, with kids.

The original impetus was my mother-in-law's 80th birthday in March, but we couldn't take the kids out of school for two weeks, and it didn't seem right to leave them at home. After all, the last time they saw their cousins was 2 years ago, when they came to New Zealand.

Of course, I'm planning to drop the kids with my in-laws and go do something fun. 🙂

I had hoped our next big holiday was California over Christmas, but my mother hasn't been doing well so we decided to go earlier, without the kids, and though I get enough time off (5 weeks vacation per year), I still can't afford two big holidays. So we'll look at doing another 'staycation' like Christchurch. (I have a friend who recommends one of the Pacific Islands; I'll have to ask which one.)

It's been 3 years since my last visit, and that was a work visit so I hardly had time to see anyone. I'm so excited to get back, and it will be a long 11 month wait! 

Hong Kong

I've never been the south-east Asia. I've been to Beijing and Osaka, but those don't count. I almost went to Thailand -- just after I arrived in New Zealand and while I was still waiting for my work visa, a friend was heading to Thailand and I thought about joining him, but my new girlfriend shut that down quickly. :-)

That said, I've never particularly wanted to go to Southeast Asia. As I noted when I moved to Britain, I can only deal with cultural change in small bites; anything more than that and I get overwhelmed and cranky. But Hong Kong -- a British colony for 100 years -- seemed like a good gateway. It wasn't.

We had a 16-hour layover, from 5am to 9pm. The meticulously planned itinerary was simple:

• Buy online tickets for the “360 Lantau Culture and Heritage Insight Tour” before we arrive
• Take a taxi from the airport to Tung Chung station (HK $40)
• Get a round-trip train ticket to Hong Kong central
• Spend 3 hours exploring the city
• Return to Tung Chung by 11am
• Take the 45-minute cable car ride to Ngong Ping
• Have lunch at the Po Lin Monastery
• Join the 1:15pm tour. The 3.5 tour included the Big Buddha and Tai O fishing village
• Take the 45-minte cable car ride back to Tung Chung
• Shop/eat at the Citygate Outlets
• Take a taxi back to the airport by 8pm
• Board the 9pm flight

Now, let’s see how well that worked out:

• Buy online tickets for the “360 Lantau Culture and Heritage Insight Tour” before we arrive The online app (which offered a substantial discount) failed to mention you had to book more than 24 hours in advance.
• Take a taxi from the airport to Tung Chung station (HK $40) It was HK $50
• Get a round-trip train ticket to Hong Kong central The kiosk only offered one-way tickets!  The whole point of taking the taxi was to save money over taking a one-way ticket from the airport and a one-way ticket back to Tung Chung!
• Spend 3 hours exploring the city We took the train to Kowloon station and attempted to walk to the ferry.  I say “attempted” because it took us half an hour just to find our way out of the train station/mall.  Hong Kong city planners are clearly not fond of pedestrians, sending them up to elevated walkways, down to subterranean crosswalks, or just having an exit door that leads straight onto the motorway.  (I’m exaggerating there, but not by much!)  It was an early Saturday morning and I think there were three of us on the ferry across Victoria Harbour.  Once we were in Hong Kong proper, the contrast was remarkable—one street was lined of shopping malls and luxury brands, and two blocks over it was street vendors.  My son had been moaning since we got off the flight about his stomach hurting, so we found a western-looking restaurant and stopped to eat.  (He didn’t eat, and for a 14-year-old boy that is a clear sign there was a real problem.)
• Return to Tung Chung by 11am We were late
• Take the 45-minute cable car ride to Ngong Ping – we did this, and it was great!
• Have lunch at the Po Lin Monastery Since we’d already eaten, we skipped this.  (There was also some confusion about whether you ate the monastery or under the Big Buddha.)  In any case, although it was all vegetarian, it was not gluten-free and I couldn’t see anything my partner could eat and my son was still not eating.
• Join the 1:15pm tour.  The 3.5 tour included the Big Buddha and Tai O fishing village I thought my partner would have trouble being on her feet all day, because she can’t sleep on an airplane, but in reality she was fine and it was my son who was dragging his feet everywhere.  It seemed cruel to extend his misery  so we skipped the tour.  (And no, it’s not because I didn’t want to pay full-price!!)
• Take the 45-minte cable car ride back to Tung Chung They had stopped the cable cars because of a thunderstorm warning.  We were one of the first in the queue for the replacement bus and it still took us two hours to get off the mountain!
• Shop/eat at the Citygate Outlets After waiting two hours, nobody was in the mood to shop, but my son was finally hungry so we tried finding food, and I stress the word “tried.”  We marched across every level of the mall and checked out the menu in every café and restaurant and could not find any gluten-free vegetarian food!  At this point I just wanted to get back to the airport.
• Take a taxi back to the airport by 8pm The last restaurant was part of a hotel attached to the mall.  I asked the front desk where I could find a taxi rank and they told me to take their free shuttle to the airport.  Of course, I could have pointed out I wasn’t a guest, but that’s not my job.  The shuttle dropped us at terminal 1; it turned out the restaurants were all in terminal 2.
• Board the 9pm flight The plane was an hour late.  By then we were all over Hong Kong and just wanted to get home.

Needless to say, my feelings about southeast Asia have not changed (but I still want to go to India).