To mark IDC Herzliya’s 20th anniversary, we spent a day following Prof. Uriel Reichman, IDC’s founder and president, and Jonathan Davis, VP for External Relations, around its delightful campus.
A few weeks later, it is one in the morning (not late by Hong Kong standards). I am out with an eclectic mix of merrymakers from around the world. There are locals and expats- importers, manufacturers, bankers, lawyers, diplomats. I am asked what I do. Moments later, I find myself engaged in a debate on the “flotilla incident” with a diplomat clearly on the other side. He is polite but firm. He is a true diplomat. It is his job to represent his country.
“I am a Zionist,” I declare. I offer no apologies.
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Lester Crown, a perennial member of the Forbes 400 list since 1982 and founder of the prestigious Covenant Foundation, took the stage in Washington, D.C. before a room of high-powered dignitaries, philanthropists, and innovators.
Creativity without clarity is not sufficient for writing. I am eternally thankful to Hashem for his gift to me.
This core idea of memory is very difficult to fully comprehend; however, it is essential.
Sometimes the most powerful countermove one can make when a person is screaming is to calmly say that her behavior is not helpful and then continue interacting with the rest of the family while ignoring the enraged person.
“Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples shall divide within you.”
Divorce from a vindictive, cruel spouse can be a lifelong nightmare when there are offspring.
There were many French Jews who jumped at the chance to shed their ancient identity and assimilate.
As Rabbi Shemtov stood on the stage and looked out at the attendees, he told them that “Rather than take photos with your cellphones, take a mental photo and keep this Shabbat in your mind and take it with you throughout your life.”
Yeshiva v’Kollel Bais Moshe Chaim will be holding a grand celebration on the occasion of the institution’s 40th anniversary on Sunday evening, December 7. Alumni, students, friends and faculty of the yeshiva, also known as Talmudic University of Florida, will celebrate the achievement and vision of its founders and the spiritual guidance of its educational […]
There is seemingly great pressure to orchestrate a production worthy of the Hong Kong skyline that will serve as a backdrop.
If your hero is fictional you could be crazy. And if they happen to be real, they are likely human and, unfortunately, inevitably flawed.
I left my mother a message saying goodbye and pleading with her to make sure my son grew up knowing how much I loved him.
In the quaint and picturesque Hungarian town of Szentendre (Saint Andrew), just outside of Budapest, our group of five new friends who had gathered from throughout the Jewish world bask in the sunlight, seemingly frozen in time. We weave along the cobblestone streets browsing in and out of charming little shops offering handmade crafts, delicate latticework, whimsical wooden toys and intricately painted porcelain. We sit outside and feast on pastries that look more like art than edibles and ice coffee is reminiscent of ice cream floats.
It started as my daughter’s third grade assignment: choose a person to write about, preferably an American, preferably a Jew. We were going to do just that. I intended to help my daughter choose the topic and then to back away yet, Emma Lazarus ended up drawing me in.
I met Mr. E at a poetry reading. Hong Kong’s literary scene is small and two Americans reading in one evening was an unusual event. We became Facebook friends, generally “liking” the same local literary events and book launches.
A Hong Kong symphony of sounds fills the air as local laborers shout across the shul courtyard in Cantonese while tossing bamboo in a pile for the sukkah: Filipino maids chatter in Tagalog hovering over the children in their charge, the radio of the Nepalese gurkhas, the Synagogue security, crackles and jackhammers provide the background music. The thick air and humidity within the walls of the partially constructed bamboo sukkah sharply contrasts with the crisp fall air of Sukkot in the northeastern corridor of the United States, where the sukkahs of my childhood were laden with dried fruit and autumn color. Dozens of colorful miniature Chinese paper lanterns dangle from the sukkah and here replace the burnt orange and golden gourds of autumn.
Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/magazine/potpourri/zionism-made-in-china/2011/01/20/
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