My Life Story Malca Flasterstein
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My Life Story Malca Flasterstein Josie Raborar, Storykeeper Acknowledgement As we near the consummation of the Ethnic Life Stories Project, there is a flood of memories going back to the concept of the endeavor. The awareness was there that the project would lead to golden treasures. But I never imagined the treasures would overflow the storehouse. With every Story Teller, every Story Keeper, every visionary, every contributor, every reader, the influence and impact of the project has multiplied in riches. The growth continues to spill onward. As its outreach progresses, "boundaries" will continue to move forward into the lives of countless witnesses. Very few of us are "Native Americans." People from around the world, who came seeking freedom and a new life for themselves and their families, have built up our country and communities. We are all individuals, the product of both our genetic makeup and our environment. We are indeed a nation of diversity. Many of us are far removed from our ancestors who left behind the familiar to learn a new language, new customs, new political and social relationships. We take our status as Americans for granted. We sometimes forget to welcome the newcomer. We bypass the opportunity to ask about their origins and their own journey of courage. But, wouldn't it be sad if we all spoke the same language, ate the same food, and there was no cultural diversity. This project has left me with a tremendous debt of gratitude for so many. The almost overwhelming task the Story Keeper has, and the many hours of work and frustration to bring forth a story to be printed. I salute you. To the Story Tellers, thank you for letting us share in your heart and soul. It is my prayer that some or many of the stories will influence many young persons to another level, to be enmeshed in the pursuit of learning of other cultures that make up our community and the world. This has, indeed, been a project of "Many" for the Community. Thanks to the following who have played a role in helping to achieve the goal. The list is practically endless, first names only. You know who you are and what you did...sincerethankstoeach of you: Caroline, Charity, Charlotte, Bob, Dana, De Ann, Ed, Eric, Erman, Jim, Joha Oke, John K, John M, June, Kay, Kendall, Maria, Mark, Michelle, Myra, Norma, Pat, Rachel, Rob, Starr, Susan, Valerie, and special recognition to Jim Coombs, SMSU, Map Department. Jim Mauldin Coordinator Ethnic Life Stories '01 '02 '03 G 012 3 $ 012 ) )012 042 !"# 5 012 $ - $ "% 63 "%- &&'( )*+,)( (-'% 7 8 - 8 ! # 3092 ./% #- , Holon Malca Flasterstein TelTel---Aviv,Aviv, Israel Holon CONTENTS Chapter One: FAMILY HISTORY Origin of my name Sefad My journey to the past My great-grandparents My grandparents My parents Chapter Two: EARLIEST MEMORIES AND CHILDHOOD Moving to Israel My home My neighbors My childhood Chapter Three: MY TEEN YEARS Joining the Social Youth Organization My High School My Father’s part-time job Joining the army Chapter Four: ADULTHOOD College education Meeting Bernardo Getting away Ethnic Life Stories 2003 ii Malca Flasterstein CONTENTS (continued) Chapter Five: MY MARRIED LIFE Our wedding Our first house My first job as a teacher Our first child My mother’s sudden death The car accident Our second child Family gathering Our third child Our second house Moving to Cleveland Ran’s Bar Mitzvah Idan’s Bar Mitzvah My sister’s illness Moving to Springfield, Missouri Trip to Egypt Ran’s life after high school Efrat’s wedding Idan’s life after high school Chapter Six: LIFE IN SPRINGFIELD My Life Mission Ethnic Life Stories 2003 iii Malca Flasterstein DEDICATION I would like to dedicate this story to my parents for their unconditional love, sacrifices, and values they have instilled in me. They have laid a solid foundation in me to face life’s challenges with understanding and love. I have learned from them to see the good in every person and to be able to forgive. Thanks to my children, Ran, Idan, Efrat and her husband, Doug, who bring a lot of happiness to my life. Thanks to my husband, Bernardo, who have stood by me through the years, supports me and accepts me in spite of all my eccentricities. Thanks to my family and friends who enrich my life. I would like to thank Josie Raborar, who has contributed a great deal, helping me develop this story. I would also like to thank Rabbi Rita Sherwin for taking the time to edit this story. Last but not least, I would like to thank Jim Mauldin, the heart of this project, for inviting me to participate and for pushing me through the final moments of this unbelievable journey. Ethnic Life Stories 2003 2 Malca Flasterstein CHAPTER ONE: FAMILY HISTORY Origin of my name My name is Malca. I was named after my maternal grandmother. When I was born, it was the custom among Sephardic Jews (Jewish people who hail from the Middle East and Northern Africa) to perpetuate the names of their relatives while they were still alive. This tradition was their way of showing honor and respect to their elders. The firstborn was named after a paternal grandparent, and the second born was named after a maternal grandparent. Malca is an ancient Hebrew word used in the Old Testament that means “queen.” Perhaps many, many generations ago we had a queen in our family. It is a regal name that makes me feel special and unique. I am the only one in my mother’s family who is named Malca. I have four female cousins; however, they are named after different grandmothers. My mother and her mother before her followed the naming tradition; I did not. My breaking with this tradition is something that I regret. However, one of the overriding reasons why I chose not to continue the custom is that I married an Ashkenazic Jew (Jewish people who hail from Eastern Europe and Russia). Ashkenazic Jews do not believe in naming their children after their parents while they are still alive; by doing so, they believe the newborn is, in effect, replacing his or her namesake, which is thought to be disrespectful and offensive to their elders. The concept of a “New Israel” means modern ways. In keeping with these modern ways, my generation gives modern names to our children. In Israel, people do not have second or middle names; if that were the case, I would have had the opportunity to give the traditional names to my children. Sefad In the Northern part of Israel lays the holy city of Sefad where my great grandparents, Mordechi and Mashuda Shababo, were born. Sefad was built during the great revolt against the Romans in the years 66 to 70 of the Common Era, sixteen hundred years ago. At an altitude of 2790 feet, Sefad is Israel’s highest town. Known as the “Crown of Galilee,” the city has cobblestone streets that lead to several ancient synagogues. Two of these hundreds- of-years-old synagogues are Rabbi Caro’s home of prayer and learning and the synagogue of Rabbi Luria. Sefad became an important center of Jewish life in the late 15th and early 16th centuries. In 1536, Rabbi Josef Caro, author of “Shulchan Aruch,” one of the most authoritative handbooks on Jewish practices, fled from Turkey to Israel with his followers and settled in Sefad. In 1575, Rabbi Isaac Luria moved to Sefad from Egypt. He was a prominent rabbi and founding father of Kabbalah. Kabbalah is a comprehensive philosophical, theological and mystical system of beliefs. It explains the nature of God, the creation of the universe, the destiny of man and the power of the Hebrew letters. Ethnic Life Stories 2003 1 Malca Flasterstein On the hillside below Sefad lies the famous cemetery in which generations of Kabbalist mystics are buried. People come to pray and light candles at the gravesites, believing that each one of these Kabbalist rabbis has the power to answer their prayers. According to Rabbi Shapiro, the light of the candle represents the flickering reality of the human soul. At nightfall the graveyard looks like a city asleep, twinkling with lights from the burning candles. Surrounded by mountains, natural springs are found in Sefad. It is believed that their water has the power to cure the sick and to make old people look young again. Perhaps it is this legend, or the mysticism of the place, or its natural beauty that has drawn droves of artists to settle in Sefad since the birth of modern Israel. My journey to the past In 1996, I flew to Israel to visit my family and friends and to search for my roots. Those who made the journey with me were my two aunts, my uncle, my sister and her daughter. It had been fifteen years since my mother passed away and that was the time I definitely missed her. The drive to Sefad was two and a half hours from Tel Aviv by car. We went straight to the famous old cemetery to search for my great-grandfather’s gravestone. On our way we came upon a spring and my aunt Janet remembered that her grandmother had told her that when she was very young her father used to take her with him to immerse in the spring. That was bold and daring of him to do so because the spring was exclusively for male use at that time. Today, nothing has changed. We saw the spring encircled with a high wood fence and on the gate was a big sign saying, “Women are forbidden to enter.” After a good deal of searching, we found my great-grandfather’s family plots in a cave, with his name engraved on one of the gravestones.