God's Country

I was born and raised in Sydney, Nova Scotia. And I spent the better part of my seventeen years there believing that I lived in a special place. Actually, I was told that in no uncertain terms by pretty much every adult I knew; Nova Scotia and more specifically, Cape Breton Island, was God’s Country. Everyone in Cape Breton called it God’s Country and I never doubted it.

If you have ever driven over Smoky Mountain on the way to the Cabot Trail, you have seen its natural beauty for yourself. And if you made it as far as Cape North on a sunny day, you may have actually seen a piece of heaven.

Or so I thought.

Then seven years ago I moved to Israel, which is considered by millions of people worldwide to be God's Country.

Hence the dilemma. Where precisely is God's Country?

Yes, Israel is part of the cradle of civilization. Cape Breton surely is not because the people who live there are generally adverse to civilized living. When they desire moments of civility.... they get on a plane and go somewhere else to find it. Then they go home.

Cape Bretoners are not particularly interested in progress and modernization. They like things just as they are (and as they have always been). Not like Israel, which is considered by many to be the next largest concentration of high-tech brain power outside of Silicon Valley in California.

Is it possible that God has two homes -- His winter abode in Israel and when the weather gets too hot here, He shifts to his northern summer home in Cape Breton? If I were Him, I would pick that option. Why upset the Cape Bretoners who think they have a piece of Him when He can just as easily shift location in the summer?

There is one advantage to Cape Breton that I think Israelis would actually like. Cape Breton is all but completely ignored by the outside world. No one there is in a hurry to go anywhere or do anything. And no superpowers are giving them instructions on how to live their lives. There are no katusha missiles aimed at its population. Cape Bretoners never worry about their kindergartens being blown up or getting on a bus (yes, there are buses in Cape Breton).

Something about all that peacefulness makes you really wonder if it might actually be God's Country.

I don't think that the snow or the everlasting cold are working in Cape Breton's favour, but what do I know? Maybe tobogganing and skiing are holy experiences. Of course, maybe sitting on the beach in Netanya or overlooking the Negev as the sun is coming up are as well.

The people who choose to live on the edges of Cape Breton -- literally in the middle of nowhere -- do so to be alone. (They must; I can't for the life of me think of another reason why they would move to a cold, perpetually damp, rocky cliff on the edge of the sea. They could fall in.)

People who move to the outer parts of Israel do so to inhabit those places and secure them as Jewish land. These Israelis are securing the frontiers of this tiny state – not militarily, but emotionally. The exact opposite of the Cape Breton logic.
The people who live at the outer reaches of Israel are not trying to get away from civilization. Many of them made conscious decisions to play an active role in populating the outer reaches of the country. I see them as Israel’s remaining pioneers.


Both places have lots of beautiful mountains and vistas. But just over Israel's mountains live some of the least friendly neighbours anyone could ask for. If you look too far over the edge of a mountain in Cape Breton you will be swimming with the whales -- Cape Breton doesn't really have any neighbours and even if it did... how could you not love a Cape Bretoner?

So you can see the dilemma. Where exactly is God’s country?

I am rather nervous to vote for one place over the other. Both are holy in their own ways to me.

Back to How I Got Here -- Part 3

The week in Netanya was a real eye opener. Dave, Chaim's friend, came home from his business trip. That actually cramped our style a bit because, after all, it was his house and I felt more self-conscious with him there.

But I had no idea how self-conscious I had yet to feel. A day after Dave arrived, so did his Russian girlfriend who, for these purposes, I will call Bratslava (in English that translates to Bitchella). She was a hot blonde babe -- with a four-year old son. She had left her abusive Russian husband (or so she and/or Dave reported) and had moved in with nice (much wealthier, Canadian) Dave.

She couldn't have made less effort to befriend us if she was in a deep coma. Actually, I think that people in deep comas are capable of responding to some stimuli -- she was not. At least not to anyone who wasn't male, available, drooling at her feet, and heavy walletted.

Let's suffice it to say, we* did not hit it off. The only time she even acknowledged my presence was the day she crawled out of bed around noon and noticed that I had fed her son breakfast and lunch. You would think that that would have broken the ice. It didn't. And then, later that evening when she and Dave asked us if we wanted to go out with them, we naively asked who could we get to stay with the kids. Yet again, she looked at me like I was a really offensive, irritating alien. You will luuuuuv the answer.

David (rather sheepishly) told us that they don't get babysitters; they just left the 4-year-old at home alone when they went out.

I don't think I have to tell you how that ended. They went out. We stayed home.

The next few days were more of the same, and I was counting down the days until we could leave outer Netanya and go to some place with people I could "get".

Finally, after a week of "fun" we packed up our new rental car and drove down the highway about 20 minutes to Ra'anana, where we spent the next three weeks.



NOTE: (*WE, in this case was me and Bratslava... Chaim probably thought she was a hot babe too. It's a man thing. Of course, recreation and procreation bring out different feelings even in men.... I think.)