|My Mothers Side from Russia, Poland, Eastern Europe|
I love the fact that the internet has made our locations irrelevant. I am an immigrant to the USA and the child to immigrants to Canada. Now, I live in the USA and I am from Toronto Canada so I expect to get some following in each place. Just my mother alone probably makes up a lot of the numbers coming for Canada. LOL. Yet I have readers from all over the world.
I have to thank all those over the seas that seem to really like reading my blogs. I am glad to be making an impression in other parts of the world. But the numbers from Russia surprised me. I love the fact that the internet is breaking down the barriers between countries and people. I love the fact that there is a core group of folks in Russia that enjoy my writing.
So for the Russians out there I wanted to give you a little background info about my Russian Heritage. My mother was born in Northern Siberia in a small town called Yask. Not sure on how that is spelled or frankly even pronounced. Fiddler on the roof is a great example of my family's roots. My roots go back to Russia, Poland, Israel and Scotland.
I spent some time in Israel in the early 90's. There was huge immigration coming in from Russia. I did a kibbutz language program called an Ulpan. http://www.kibbutzulpan.org/ IT is a program where you learn Hebrew and work on the kibbutz. It was on kibbutz Mizra. http://www.mizra.org.il/ At least half the participants were from Russia. They earned my respect rather quickly. The North Americans and European's were struggling with Hebrew and the Russians learned Hebrew and English quickly and with a hunger to learn more.
I have one story to share about that experience. At kibbutz everyone ate in a communal dinning hall. Families lived in their own apartments but took most of their meals communally. However there was a store of food, vegetables, fruit and dry good that was open to anyone to take. I remember that the Russian immigrants were so pleased to have access to this unlimited food source. They would take as much as they could carry back to our small dorm rooms we all shared.
They would stay up late drinking arak, singing, eating crackers, and smoking seriously strong cigarettes. It was several months before they truly felt confident that the stores would continually be replenished and that they did not need to take more then they needed for immediate use. Watching this transition in a person was tremendous and a honor to watch.
Here is a rather cheesy video of the kibbutz. But it is rather true to it's reality. I don't think they offer Ulpan's anymore. I think they changed that area into a hotel.
So thanks for taking an interest in my blog. Keep reading, Keep sharing and enjoy.
Oh, as a note I am now writing a lot of material for the following ventures. Feel free to check them out if you want to read more of my stuff.