Can I see some ID please?

August 19

I had written previously about the fact that life zooms by and it is sometimes hard to catch it before it eludes you. Somehow, over the last week of mine in Israel, my first one as an official citizen, thing have slowed down to a speed where I could really savor everything that was going on around me, the good and the strange.

My first Shabbat as an Israeli was just that – Israeli. I grew up in Hebrew school much like any other Anglo-American Jew and were always taught that Israel is the Jewish state and everyone is Jewish which therefore means they celebrate holidays or things of that nature. I have come to learn that isn’t remotely the case as most Israelis live secular lives before Jewish ones. This is certainly not a bad thing, just interesting due to the fact that my whole life in America I had to seek out to practice Jewish events and here, on this wonderful and beautiful kibbutz in Israel, I still have to do the same.

We spent Friday and Saturday camping and hiking essentially in our backyard – a richly green forest with numerous trails, valleys, and rolling hills. We spent Sunday becoming more acquainted with the kibbutz, and Monday I took my Hebrew test to see which ulpan, or Hebrew class, I’d be placed into. Throughout it all, I being probably one of the only people on the entire kibbutz who wears a kippah, I’ve had to come to grasp the idea that I still need to make a place for Judaism in my life. At first I was slightly upset about it but now I’m happy to continue representing many things from my religion which only makes my connection that much stronger. Having had this slow time I’ve been able to dissect my feelings over the past week that much better and I am really grateful for that.

All of that thinking of my place in the Jewish people, especially in Israel, seems like it dominated my week, but it did not at all. Because I also became Israeli and that part of me was somewhat tested this week and revealed. My first full day as an Israeli, in a taxi, the driver said what I was doing and I explained I was moving stuff to my new kibbutz. He asked if I was Israeli and I didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes,” and he questioned it immediately. I had no problem telling him that I was just as Israeli as him, no matter where we were born or our native tongue. I stuck it to the man.

Throughout the week, besides ordering a phone, I waited and waited for my teudah zehut, my I.D. card, which was really the next step in being an Israeli citizen instead of just a new immigrant. Today was the day I received it, with my picture, smile and all, and only Hebrew writing – Israeli identification I had in my possession. Next was another step to being a citizen and that was opening up a bank account. After signing many papers which I am still unsure of what I signed, I had opened the account and got an Israeli credit card on top of it. I stared at the card and kept laughing and smiling because it was so cool to see my name, in Hebrew, on a card like that. “Now,” I mumbled to myself, “ I don’t have anything a native born Israeli doesn’t have.” I was on my way.

That brought us to tonight where we had a welcoming ceremony with many of the kibbutz members in attendance. This was to meet and greet, receive a blessing, and let them see what we are all about. For a reason I am still not too sure of, I was asked to deliver some words on behalf of our group to the whole kibbutz. I was going to be speaking in Hebrew and I wasn’t nervous. I had already taken risks to get to that point and having that honor was an extra bonus I was very happy to receive. I said what my friends Danna and Mika helped write and the kibbutz members were very impressed and I was satisfied with myself and the whole group.

When finishing the night by meeting many new people, it was clear to me that this was the place for me. Regardless of religious observances, language barriers, or the smell of cow **** every morning, the people reinforced to me why I made the decision I did; I felt as if I was in a welcoming place, a home. This was a shavuah tov, a good week. I’m sure it will be the first of many to come.

The Happiest Place on Earth

August 13 – Aliyah Day

There we were, descending through the clouds off the coast of Israel, only minutes away from landing as Israeli citizens. We watched our TV screens closely as the map showed the plane drift onto land and our eyes then caught the first buildings in the country. This was actually happening. Once a dream, now becoming a reality.

As the plane landed, all of us erupted into loud cheers while my fellow future soldier and friend Gilad and I asked ourselves, “What the **** is happening?” Being a special chartered flight of only people making Aliyah, passport control came to us. I was mere sconds away from walking out of the plane and peering out at the view of my new home.

I was cleared to go and I ventured toward the open door with my backpack and pillow behind me and a flag and a camera in my hands. All I could do was smile and photograph. We walked down the stairs and were greeted by photographers as if we were the USA basketball team. Flashbulbs everywhere made it hard at first to grasp what was taking place around us until we took a picture of everyone coming to do their army service – 43 people overall!

We boarded the bus which was to take us to the old terminal of the airport where a welcome ceremony was to take place. I started thinking about the first time I came to Israel at the age of ten and it felt special after all I had learned from classes and my mother. This time it was magical. In the distance were many Israeli flags and as we got closer, my friend Michal asked, “Is this all for us?!” Indeed it was.

As the bus pulled into where it was stopping I saw Justin and David, the former being one of my best friends and roommate and the latter being one of my best friends who made Aliyah last year, one of my inspirations. Their eyes opened big and my mouth opened wide and I pointed to them and the excitement was reaching a new level.

The doors of the bus opened and Heyveynu Shalom Elechem – “May peace be upon you” was booming from the loud speakers. Sari Roy, another close friend who did what I was doing only a few months prior was right there to hug me. Hundreds of people were singing and dancing and greeting all of us with open arms. Then I saw JJ Jonah, my Israeli dad and a big voice of reason in my decision and we embraced. O kept walking over and found Justin and David and the smile wouldn’t leave my face. They hugged me and we danced together and we were simply happy.

After many minutes of this Justin lifted me on his shoulders and I felt like I was on top of the world. Spur of the moment people began dancing around us and singing in joy. Next we made our way inside and prepared for a ceremony filled with many speeches from many important people. One of these people was Tzipi Livni, the foreign minister and assistant prime minister and possibly Israel’s next prime minister. If any other thing could make this even more real it was having her there to welcome us.

It was dawning on me – I was becoming a new citizen of the country. And the speakers certainly couldn’t let me forget what I was doing here as they recognized people joining the army seemingly every other sentence. We left the ceremony and moved upstairs where I was going to be receiving my first documentation as an Israeli – my Teudat Oleh, Certificate of Immigration. A nice lady handed over the passport-like booklet and I looked inside to see my picture with Hebrew writing and my date of Aliyah – August 13, 2008 – a day that will never leave my mind or my soul. This was the day I took a step towards following a dream and at that moment I felt proud of myself and fellow immigrants.

As I then walked downstairs to get my bags I came across the oldest immigrant on our flight, a kind and gentle 96 year old woman. If only we could all know how long this has been her dream. She was more than ten years older than I am now when Israel was still being fought for to become a Jewish state. I was gladly sharing this experience with such an motivating woman.

The rest of the day went as most in Israel do for me – resting, eating, and playing with JJ and Shira’s kids. But this day was different. It felt different. This was my day. My day of Aliyah. It actually had happened. I carried my Teudat Oleh with me to downtown Jerusalem and every time I reached in my pocket usually feeling my cell phone, I felt my teudah, constant reminders each time of what had transpired. In life, there are always ups and downs, and this is surely true here in Israel, too. The goal is to make sure I turn downs into ups to keep my spirits high in times of hardship. I don’t think I’ll have to do much more than remember the moment I walked off the plane and was able to say to myself a line I’ve wanted for sometime – “I’m Israeli now.” Yes I am. Yes I am.

One Day

August 11

One day. One day away from a moment in my life that might define who I am or who I will become. One day away from “Living the Dream” as Nefesh B’Nefesh calls it. Aliyah – to go or rise up both mentally and spiritually to Israel. One day is all that stands between me and fulfilling a dream. A day that will most likely last a lifetime.

Over the past week I have said my goodbyes to many of my close friends and family. My parents, uncle, aunt, brother, sister (even though she’ll be joining me in 2 weeks), and the Ezra staff from Camp Ramah were all people I had heartfelt goodbyes with.

However, I don’t like to think of the goodbye part but rather the chance I’ll have to say hello to many of these people in my new home – Israel. Josh Taff, a good friend and coworker of mine at camp, said, “It’s not goodbye, it’s see you later. In Hebrew, we don’t say שלום – shalom – but rather להיתראות – l’hitraot – meaning see you later.” I took his words to heart as I said some words with each of the aforementioned. Saying to people, “I’ll see you in Israel,” has become my favorite thing to say because it makes me smile along with whomever I’m speaking to. But sometimes we know our wishes or dreams don’t always come true even when we want them so badly. I feel more than fortunate that I am one day away from fulfilling one dream of mine. However, when saying farewell to the Ezra staff, I realized just how hard it is to leave people you hold close to you, especially when you don’t know the next time you are actually going to see them.

My fellow coordinators who I admire immensely had already done more than enough for me when, on top of it all, they asked each Ezra staff member to say a memory or thought about me on our last night together. When these things occur, you hope that you’ve done something, one thing, to impact their lives so that you don’t see where you might have missed a beat. Because, at the end of the day, just even smiling at someone might have positively changed that person’s day which, in turn, could change their life forever. Think about it – it’s true.

I was humbled by the words spoken by the Ezra staff and I kept thinking that I want to see each of them in Israel, without a doubt. A few of them promised a visit, but how certain can we be that this is so possible? I am going to see my parents in December. I am going to see my brother in the summer. These beautiful people who taught me how to view life for its positives only and never to give up? Unknown. This is another example of why nobody should ever let go of what they have until the last possible second, if not at all, because you’ll miss it so much when that sad time comes.

Dr. Seuss’ books caught my eye at Target the other day, specifically Oh the Places You’ll Go. I always look towards the end at a favorite page of mine: “And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 3 / 4 percent guaranteed.) KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!” There are two ways to look at this. One way is thinking what if we land in the 1 ¼ percent area where we don’t succeed? Do we just give up? The second way to view this is by seeing that confidence is vital, just not 100% certainty so as to lose your motivation or drive to finish any undertaking. The first view has to be battled back by saying to yourself, “No! Failure is not the option. I will try my hardest even if it doesn’t work out the first time. The second view speaks to me because it says if we take something for granted, then we aren’t doing the thing for ourselves. We must believe we can move mountains and find the mental and physical strength inside to complete even daunting tasks such as this. This is what Dr. Seuss is stressing – confident, motivated, yet not cocky.

Almost 2,000 years ago this week on the 9^th of Av in the Jewish calendar, the Romans dispersed the Jews and tried to destroy the people and their culture. Almost 2,000 years later in the present, the Jews inhabit Israel and make her flourish. Tomorrow I take the next step to becoming a part of that land, that people. The Romans might have thought that was the end of the Jewish people. Think again – Israel is alive and well and I’ll be embracing her within one day. One day that will be overwhelming and exciting. One day between me and Israel.