A Rosh Hashanah gift

EMILY SINGER

Israelis love giving presents. I love getting presents. It’s not like anyone has ever given me anything I couldn’t have gone out and bought myself and, if I buy something for myself, I get to choose exactly what I want. There is something about somebody else thinking of you, though, and considering what you would appreciate, and spending their own time and money, that makes those orange lollipop earrings and matching necklace from your eight-year-old son more special than anything you could have purchased from Tiffany’s.

This theory does not explain my excitement the other day when I go to pay for my gas at our local gas station and the attendant tells me, “You get a gift of a free water bottle and a Magnum ice cream.” (My favorite! How did she know?)

I know what’s going on here. I know these presents are not “free.” In Israel, we pay twice as much for gas as we used to pay in America. This ice cream is a teeny tiny fraction of what I have just been grossly overcharged. But, still, a present? For me? Thanks!

Prices in Israel are exorbitant. The elevated gas prices actually make some sense. After all, most of the world’s oil comes from countries that are not among Israel’s closest friends. When the gas attendant gives me a “gift,” it’s like she is saying, “I know this tank of gas should have cost you $40 instead of $80, but here’s an ice cream for your trouble, and thanks for choosing Israel!”

Nothing, however, can satisfactorily explain the inflation on cottage cheese that sparked a Facebook protest of more than 100,000 members last year. The protest affected dairy producers and supermarket chains, who were forced to significantly lower their prices – at least on cottage cheese.

After the Cottage Cheese Boycott, the next target was Israeli exports. Reporters brought to light the fact that major Israeli companies are exporting products for significantly less money than what they are charging locally. This past summer, when we were visiting America, we saw firsthand what Israelis have been watching on the news and reading about in the paper. We were at a pricey kosher pizza place in Houston, Tex., where we saw for sale Israeli

Pesek Zman candy bars for literally half the Israeli retail price! This was true with Osem soups, Wissotzky tea, and many of Israel’s food exports. The next time we are in America, we need to stock up on Bamba!

How do they get away with it? How do Israeli companies con patrons into paying such outrageous prices? I’ll tell you how. They give out presents. When you walk into a supermarket, everything is “Buy two, get one as a gift” or “Four for 10” or “Gift of watermelon with purchase of lamp!” Then, when you go to pay, there are another four or five items that are the “really special gifts” that are such amazing deals they didn’t even advertise them … so they could keep them a secret just for their really special customers who care enough to make it all the way to the checkout counter.

A few weeks ago, our local supermarket gave us, as a present, a 32-inch-screen TV. No joke.

The promotion began more than a year ago. The deal is, if you sign up for their credit card, you receive 10 percent off your first purchase, five percent off a number of groceries of your choice and then, if you want, you may choose one of several gifts, such as laptop computers, air conditioners, iPods and washing machines. The only catch is that you have to spend the value of your “gift” on groceries at their store every month for a year. So, if the value of our TV is 1,500 shekels, every month we spend less than that, one instalment of the TV is charged to our credit card. No problem for us. We could get two TVs and a laptop for what we spend on groceries, if the promotion would only let us.

My initial feeling was, if they can afford to give me a 32-inch-screen TV from the money I spend on groceries, clearly I am being overcharged. But, a year later, my feelings have changed. I realize that, as an Israeli, I need to shift my thinking. If I’m shopping there anyway, and they are still overcharging me, why not take the free TV?

The other day, our water bar company offered us a “free gift” valuing 4,000 shekels. We own a water bar, a little countertop model that dispenses hot and cold water, because our kids insist they can’t drink the local tap water. It’s fresh spring water, free of chemicals and toxins, but it does contain a high level of limestone. When you pour a glass, you can watch the white sediment settle to the bottom like Turkish coffee. We still resisted the purchase for more than a year because they are very pricey until, one day, I saw one on special for 600 shekels – a fifth of the price of the leading brand.

The machine lasted us almost exactly a year before breaking. It was within the warranty, but the company said the repairs aren’t covered because we didn’t change the filter in time. The guy on the phone assures me that, for a “low monthly fee,” they would do all repairs and change the filter regularly. This is when he offers to throw in a “free gift.” What was this free 4,000 shekel gift? A better filter. As it turns out, according to the guy on the phone, the one we have been enjoying for the past year doesn’t really do anything.

The thing is, we’ve been very happy with the filter that doesn’t do anything. I tell the guy that, instead of the free gift, we’d prefer a lower monthly insurance fee. He can’t do that. I ask if there is any way this free gift will cost us any money in the future. He says no. Of course not! Not as long as I make all my monthly payments for three years! And if I cancel in the middle? I need to pay them back the value of the filter. I do some quick math in my head, and calculate that in three years I will have completely paid off the “gift.” No thanks.

Still, we want the machine, and I still think we want the insurance. I tell the guy to skip the gift and just sign us up for the service. The guy feels terrible. He knows that we are getting ripped off. He really wants us to have a gift. He starts offering me random things. He asks if I want environmental laundry balls. I tell him I’ve tried them and they don’t work. What about a new suitcase? I ask Ross, who is totally fed up. He yells, “No gift! Tell him we don’t want his stupid, tainted gifts! We just want a reasonable price for his service!”

When the technician arrives at the house, he says he can’t fix the machine on the spot, but he’ll give us a replacement in the meantime. Suddenly, Ross realizes something we hadn’t thought of. He calculates that, with the cost of the monthly insurance fees, it would be cheaper to just buy the machine brand new every year! He tells the technician we have changed our minds.

The guy tries desperately to save his sales. First, he goes back to the merits of the better filter. It works five times better … and we get it for free! No luck. Then, he says that in his van he has a different machine (a competitor!) for a cheaper price. He’d get fired if his boss knew. Ross says he doesn’t want to buy anything from him. Then the guy says, “You know what? It can actually be fixed right here.” In fact, we could get our own electrician to fix it easily. He just needs the right part. He happens to have one in his truck for just 300 shekels. A special gift price just for us....

A present is not something you receive for free, and it’s not something someone gives so you will do something for them. A present is something you receive from the heart. It’s something you receive because someone wanted you to have and enjoy it, or because they thought it would make your life better, if even a little bit. I have learned a lot about presents this past year.

It hasn’t been an easy year. Thank God, our family is happy and healthy, but we have witnessed a lot of tragedy around us. Our son’s gannenet (nursery teacher) died of cancer just a couple of weeks ago. The entire kibbutz is in mourning. It feels like Tisha b’Av on the streets. Hundreds and hundreds of people came to the funeral. Our small cemetery couldn’t contain all the visitors, many of whom had to watch from outside the gates. It seems like everyone who ever stepped foot on our mountain or in our valley was touched by her. Everyone who spoke talked about the gifts she had given them – love, time, thoughtfulness, caring and lots of home-baked cookies. These are presents.

Last month, a good friend of ours lost her sister, a mother of two young children, also to cancer. In the short month between her diagnosis and her passing, thousands of people banded together on Facebook for support. The response was unbelievable. There were people organizing meals and raising money. There were people lending baby equipment and helping with transportation, as our friends stepped in to help take care of their niece and nephew. Others were helping her mother search for an apartment nearby where she could be near her daughter, and the babies’ metapelet (day-care teacher) offered to watch the kids privately during her summer holiday.

The woman’s husband gave medical updates on Facebook, and people responded with prayers, blessings and more offers of help. Women baked special challot with her in mind. Others organized multiple daily recitations of the Book of Psalms. One woman started her own group for the study of the laws of lashon hara (gossip) in hopes to merit her recovery. These were presents – gifts to the patient, her husband, her children, her parents, and her sister and brother-in-law. Sadly, none of these efforts were able to save her, but they will always be deeply treasured.

The truth is, I am blessed with so many gifts this year. I have been living in Israel for two years, and my kids are healthy, happy and well adjusted. They all have good friends and are doing well in school. What I have really learned from the difficulties of the past year, and from all the amazing people who have done so much for their families and communities, not to mention from total strangers, is that I am looking at this whole present thing all wrong.

On Rosh Hashanah, we celebrate the birth of the world. It is a day to express our gratitude for everything the world’s existence gives to us. It is the world who is meant to receive gifts and we should give them from the heart. For this coming year, I need to ask myself what the world would really want from me. Like so many inspirational people I have had the privilege to see in action, our friends and our kibbutz and school communities, I hope to have the strength, commitment and creativity to give appropriately and generously.

May we all give generously this year to our world, and may we merit to receive in return good health, love and peace.

Emily Singer is a teacher, social worker and freelance writer. She is currently working on two books. Singer and her husband, Ross, were rebbetzin and rabbi of Vancouver’s Shaarey Tefilah congregation until 2004. The Singers spent two years in Jerusalem and then moved to Baltimore, Md., where Ross was rabbi at Congregation Beth Tfiloh and Emily taught Judaic studies at Beth Tfiloh High School, until they moved to Israel in 2010. They have four children.

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