Getting my Feet on the Ground

A-Plus: 4 Days

 

Moshe, who met me at the airport, called last Friday.  He had the day off and was in the city looking for an apartment.  After he had finished looking at places he came over, took me driving, and helped me find all the locations that I was unable to find Thursday.  We first went exploring down Rechov Hertzog in southern Jerusalem, and found the Beit Hanoar Haivri (Young Men's Hebrew Association) where I will hopefully be able to take my ulpan.  They also happen to have a gym and a pool with separate swimming hours for men and women, so I had hoped to be able to sign up and then I could do my exercizes and studying in the same place, but when I saw the prices I gawked.  $74 per month.  By contrast, my gym in Walnut Creek was $19 per month.  Forget it!  I'm just going to have to buy a set of dumbell weights and do my own jogging and lifting.  After exploring the area, we discovered that the number 6 bus, the one which goes from Pisgat Ze'ev (a Jerusalem suburb) to downtown also has a stop right in front, so I also have means of transportation there now. We then found the Nefesh B'Nefesh offices where I will be receiving my Teudat Zehut (Israeli Identity Card) on Tuesday.

 

Later in the day, I was finally able to establish contact with my cousins Rafi and Galila (and their 4 children) here Pisgat Ze'ev and arranged to move over here after Shabbat. 

 

I had an excellent first Shabbat in Israel with my friends in French Hill, overlooking the old and new city, and was able to meet up with some of the Rabbis I knew here before.  I had a special aliyah (calling up to the Torah) to celebrate my aliyah (moving to Israel,)  and when the kehillah (congregation) heard of my recent arrival, they broke into song and began pounding on the tables, "May God return all his children to within his borders."  It was quite a high for me!

 

After Shabbat, I moved to Pisgat Ze'ev.  I'm sleeping in Rafi's daytime office, and they told me that I don't have to rush out, just take as long as I need (within reasonable limits, of course) to get my life settled and situated.  My goal is to be out on my own in a month, hopefully less.

 

My next steps, in the approximate order I hope to achieve them are:

1. Acquire cellular phone

2. Obtain Teudat Zehut (Israeli Identity Papers)

3. Open bank account

4. Sign up to receive payments from the government (part of aliyah package.)

4. Get health insurance

5. Find and rent apartment

6. Sign up for ulpan

7. Establish internet connectivity

 

I'm worried about my job now (I'm always worried about something.)  My boss is returning from his vacation on Wednesday, and I'd like to be able to get to work before people in Walnut Creek start to forget about me.  Unfortunately, I don't have my phone system set up and don't think I will be able to until after I get my own place with internet connectivity, which, as detailed above, is at the end of a long list of tasks which must be completed first, and may take slightly longer than I had thought.  What I'm thinking of doing is offering to begin right away doing basic work via email and fax and making my own international calls in to the office as necessary, and then letting them know as soon as my phone service is up and running.  It's a gamble because I want to prove that this can work on all levels, and my first impression will be harmed if I can't be reached by phone for the first couple of weeks, but it is also important to get started ASAP so I'm not left out of the loop.

 

Today, I took a "day off" from aliyah worries and all of the cousins, and their brothers and sisters and children, drove out to a park in Yemin Mosheh, with a stunning view of the walls of the old city, for a barbecue.  We ran the kids around, I had time to catch up with everyone, and had a great and relaxing day.

 

And of course, jetlag is really slowing me down.  But, IY"H, I shall overcome!

Even the Mosquitoes are Political

A-Plus: 2 Days

Israel secretly mastered atomic power forty years ago, and continues to make enormous strides in technology, from manufacturing Intel's Pentium chip to launching spy satellites, but for some reason the country has not yet discovered the concept of the insect screen. The windows here are either open or closed.

It's so incredibly hot and sweaty in Jerualem that last night I left the window open. In came the mosquitoes. Then I closed the windows, and the mosquitoes were trapped in the room with me while I tried to sleep, and I started cooking in my own heat. I would turn on the lights, hunt for half an hour and kill one, then try to sleep, only to hear the annoying buzz again as they swarmed and harmonized over my head, swooping down from time to time to steal a sip of my blood.

The combination of Jetlag, heat, and mosquitoes kept me up all night. I finally managed to kill the last one at 3:30 AM, and tried hard to sleep, but by this time I was cooking in my own heat. And I wasn't about to re-open the window. Eventually I gave in and broke a promise to myself not to take a sleeping pill. But I forced myself to wake up at 9:30 AM instead of noon like yesterday. I HAVE to get on schedule as fast as possible here. So now I'm exhausted, but I got some telework, so at least I'm busy.

This morning I talked to Leah about the mosquitoes. She said that they weren't a problem until three months ago, but the Palestinian Authority is no longer treating its sewage, which is now a mosquito breeding ground, so they all fly in from Ramallah. I suppose this has something to do with the Arabs' decision to elect Hamas and their "kill-all-the-Jews" platform, which forced the rest of the civilized world to withhold financial support, thus bankrupting public agencies.

Day One

A-Plus: 1 Day


Oh boy, have I just bitten off a HUGE piece of work for myself. From me to get to where I am; mooching off distant cousins, homeless, to where I want to be; in my own apartment, with an internet connection, cel phone, taking an ulpan, and doing my telecommuting job, is going to require my full and undivided efforts over the next several weeks.

While absorbtion will be much tougher than I thought, I do have a major head start thanks to the year and a half I spent here from 2000-2002. I woke up at noon today and had slipped into my pidjin Hebrew like an old pair of jeans. I can already miscommunicate with absolute fluency! My base at cousin Amnon and Leah's house established, I decided to make a reconnisance foray into downtown Jerusalem. I set out to find the Interior Ministry, Absorbtion Ministry, the Young Men's Hebrew Association (the YMCA of Israel, where my ulpan will be), and the Nefesh B'Nefesh main offices. Amnon and I sat down over a map and pinpointed locations based on addresses. We decided I need to take bus number 4. So off I went, with some of the money I got from the Absorbtion Ministry yesterday in my pocket, and went exploring downtown.

Now, my previous time in Israel, there were really only five places I went in Jerusalem. The central bus station, French Hill (where I am now), the Ben Yehuda mall, the Kotel (western wall) in the old city, and the suburb of Pisgat Ze'ev. Fortunately for me then, there was one bus, the number six, which could hit all of these spots. I thought I knew the city, but now that I'm trying to find government offices and other places, I'm realizing that I really don't know Jerusalem all that well.

So I took number four, and, based on my coordinates (Hillel St. and King George St.) jumped out and was on the ground. I wandered for some time looking for the address given for the Absorption Ministry, and eventually found the place. Then, I advanced on my next target, the interior ministry. I walked back and forth on the same street several times before I found an Ethiopian guard in front of a cafe and asked. He waved his metal detector towards a single door set into a limestone wall I had passed three or four times. Eureka!

Next, I decided to walk to the Kotel (western wall.) I knew the way and arrived directly. The Kotel certainly has changed! The main outdoor plaza, as before, is separated into a men's and women's section by a mechitzah (separation.) There's a tunnel adjascent to the men's section of the main plaza where one can find a continuation of the wall. It was always dank and poorly lit, full of praying chassidim and felt like a holy dungeon. Well, not any more! The municipality installed several halogen lamps shining towards the ceiling, so the stones on the archways over the ceilings look to be glowing. Better yet, the whole place has a powerful new air conditioning system. They also built an elegant women's section with separate access, so now women can see the inside of this tunnel, which they couldn't before. I caught a pickup minyan (quorum of ten Jews) for Minchah (afternoon prayers) with a couple of Yemenites, some Ashkenazi Soldiers, an American tourist, and a Moroccon Shaliach Tzibbur (prayer leader.)

The next stop was to get a map of the different bus lines so I could find my way around. I knew that, if such a thing existed, then I would be able to find it at the central bus station, so off I went. I could have taken a bus but want to conserve funds so I walked. It was only about 2 miles, and it was nice to re-familiarize myself with Jaffa street, which connects the old city to the city center. Wandered through the Ben Yehudah mall and saw a pro-Israel Christian demonstration. I ended up at the central bus station and found the information booth. I faked a heavy American accent so the clerk spoke slowly.

"I'm looking for a map of the intra-city bus lines."
"We don't have it."
"You mean you don't have it or it doesn't exist."
"It doesn't exist."
End of conversation.

I then continued wandering through the bus station until I found another information center, and this one had exactly the map I wanted, the one that doesn't exist, posted in the glass. I excitedly approached the clerk but forgot to put on my heavy American accent, and so had some trouble understanding the clerk.

"Can I get a copy of the map of the bus lines in the window there?"
"Blah blah blah for you, but blah blah blah twenty blah blah."
"Wait a minute, can I or can't I get a map of the city bus lines?"
"Impossible."
She shot me her "conversation over" eyes.

I walked over to the map and took a digital photograph, and caught a bus back to French Hill.

I made good progress, and found two of the four locations I'm looking for, so the reconissance mission is deemed a success. Still, I'm a bit nervous about my living situation. I was only supposed to be here for a day, and I've already been here for two. I'm trying to contact my cousins Rafi and Galila, who said I could stay with them longer, and thought that I would be able to head over to their place today, but I still haven't heard from them. And I don't want to overburden the hosts I'm with now. Fortunately, I went to daven Ma'ariv (evening prayers) at the shul (synagogue) down the road here and ran into my old friend Shmuel Elitzur from my time here before, and received an invite for Shabbat, so tomorrow night is taken care of. But I'm antsy to get myself squared away, so I can start my telecommuting.

P.S. I took lots of photos, but have no way of posting them, so will send them later.

The Eagle Has Landed

A-Minus: 0 Days

 

I arrived at the Toronto airport a full hour earlier than instructed.  There's no way I was missing this flight.  I took the extra time I had to go to an empty check-in counter, weigh, and rebalance my bags, getting loading precisely the maximum weight into each bag.  As I rounded the corner into the El Al Terminal I was drawn to the huge banner set up, "Nefesh B'Nefesh Aliyah Flight Registration."

 

I wandered in the direction of the registration and was pounced upon by Jewish Agency officials and Nefesh B'Nefesh personnel.  After being directed to the official Jewish Agency/Nefesh B'Nefesh table, I was given a tote bag full of important paperwork.  I was then herded into the flight line, where I packed my bags and was handed my boarding pass.  We early birds then meandered around the terminal meeting eachother, shaking hands.

 

"Where are you from?"
"Where are you going?"
"What are your plans?"

 

What surprised me most was the diversity of the group.  Hassidim twirling their peyos, Modern Orthodox businessmen, tatooed secular Jews, liberals and conservatives, right wingers and left wingers, all moving together as one.

 

Nefesh B'Nefesh provided a table with refreshments and cake, and began a brief departure ceremony with various ambassadors and big-whigs.  We olim were then herded to our flight.  Security was a breeze, and we boarded the plane immediately.  I was sitting next to a family from Los Angeles, and the jumpy character across the aisle from me kept high-fiving me.  "We're going!  We're actually going!"

"You take care of yourself," I told him, repeating the phrase I'd had hammered into me a hundred times over the last month.

"No.  Now we all take care of eachother."

 

During the 11 hour flight, Nefesh B'Nefesh officials came walking down the aisle with tablet PCs, having us sign our paperwork for our Teudat Zehut (identity papers.)  The flight was festive at first, but after a couple of hours most people settled down and just wanted to arrive.

 

We touched down at 8:15 AM the next morning, Israel time. Our plane was the first, a second was coming from New York and a third was from London.

"Hey eseh," the black-hatted bearded Mexican standing next to me in the aisle said, nudging my arm, "how come you aren't on the New York flight with the rest of the Gringos?"

 

We stood in the aisle and waited, looking out the window at the hangar below.  What was waiting for us through that door?  Would we be able to make it here?  What about army service?  The Lebanon War? Integration?

 

Finally, we pushed through the door and found ourselves swimming in Tel Aviv humidity.  A line of soldiers waited at the bottom of the staircase for us, standing on either side of the path between the airplane and the hangar.  The Israel Army Band struck up a tune over the loudspeakers.

 

"Heveinu SHALOM ALEICHEM!"  Peace be upon you!  Welcome!

 

Any worries about the future were immediatly put to death in that instant.  We walked down the aisle of soldiers and were engulfed by a crowd of guests, complete strangers coming up to me, slapping me on the back and wishing me a Mazal Tov.

 

I walked into the hangar and stood staring at the scene, exhausted and elated.  I was suddenly seized from behind and lifted off the ground.  It was my old friend Moshe from my time at the university in Be'er Sheva!

 

"You've lost weight!"
"No, you've lost weight!"

 

We sat there catching up on what we had missed over the last several years, stopping for pictures and hugs.

 

A Nefesh B'Nefesh official found me in the crowd of thousands.  "You're Ephraim Aryeh from California, right?  We have a reporter from the L.A. Times here who wants to interview you."

 

I gave my interview.  The place was crawling with reporters.

 

Rabbi Fass, director of Nefesh B'Nefesh gave his speech, announcing that next year's major welcoming ceremony will see not three but four flights, one from the U.S., one from Canada, one from Britain, and hopefully a fourth from Mexico City.

 

Prime Minister Olmert delivered his speech and left.  There were a few boos, but most of the Olim were respectful, like proper Anglos.

 

After and hour of speechifying and hugging friends and relatives, the guests were sent away and we were people-moved over to passport control.  Passports stamped, Nefesh B'Nefesh people stood directing us towards the stariway to the absorption ministry.  "Upstairs, second floor, through the door."

 

We entered the absorption ministry to find Nefesh B'Nefesh personnel directing us to indivitual offices, with lists of names organized alphabetically.  I found my name on the list, entered the office, and received my Teudat Oleh (New Immigrant's Identity Papers), 1200 shekels cash (about $260), and a voucher for a free taxi ride anywhere in the country.  Those of us who finished were then directed downstairs and met with our interior ministry representative, and arranged a time to meet with them in one month to register for immigrant payments, after which we were herded into another line.  Here, we signed our paperwork to receive our Israeli Teudat Zehut (permanent Israeli identity papers) where government officials signed the forms we had filled out with tablet PCs on the plane ride over.  This line took a full hour, and was extremely taxing, but it was later explained to me that the only reason this was a problem was because huge numbers of personnel had been diverted to other functions due to the war in Lebanon, otherwise they would have taken care of everything on the plane and we wouldn't have had a line at all.  We then proceeded to get our bags, passed through customs officials who didn't check too closely, and were on the street, flagging down taxis to take us to our final destinations.  I arrived here at my cousin Amonon's at about 3 PM and collapsed on the bed.

 

All in all, it took about 6 hours from the moment we touched the runway until we were in our taxis.  Some of those with less Israel experience were complaining about all of the paperwork, but those of us who had lived here before tried to explain it to them.  Typically, each one of these official visits to the absorption ministry or the interior ministry would require a full day.  And that's not to mention the full day it takes to get a hold of someone on the phone and arrange the appointment, never mind the extra two days you have to spend one week later to arrange and show up for another appointment when you realize that you've made a mistake and forgotten some obscure paper.  Nefesh B'Nefesh cut right through the red tape and got us through about six months worth of endless paperwork in four hours.  Also, often new immigrants don't even know about their rights until after those rights have already expired, but here we were automatically signed up for everything we needed.  The operation was clean, smooth, and efficient, and got us on our feet and moving in six hours rather than six months.  Kol haCavod (way to go) to Nefesh B'Nefesh!

 

P.S. I will have pictures shortly but am not now at a computer which will allow me to upload them, so we'll just have to wait.

The Eagle has Landed

A-Mins: 0 Days

I'm here in Jerusalem. Boruch Hashem.

I'm too tired to write right now, but will post plenty more later.

A-Day

A-Minus: 4 hours

Today is the big day.  I woke up a few hours earlier than planned and I'm not about to fall back asleep.  I'm all packed and ready to go, not at all nervous or worried.

I suppose I'm totally free now.  I gave my keys back to work on Friday and have no further obligations to show up in the office.  I donated my car back to Chabad, and left the keys on Rabbi's chair, so I have no further responsibilities with insurance payments, driver's licenses, smog checks, or traffic laws.  On Saturday night, I checked my mail box for the last time and slid my apartment keys through the mail slot at the front office.  I have no rent to pay or apartment to maintian, no lease obligations.  I have a good bit of money saved up and could go anywhere and do anything I like, and I don't even have any keys to take with me.  There is no shortage of people who would love to be in my situation right now.

But from a Torah perspective, a Jew is defined not by his freedoms but by his obligations.  In that sense, one might think that I'm nobody.  But no matter where he is, a Jew always has his obligations to keep kosher, learn Torah, and behave properly.  In that sense, Hashem always gives us a rope to hold onto, so a person is always a somebody. 

As for me, right now I'm ready.  I've got my foot on the starting block, I can see the track ahead of me, I know what I've got to do, and I'm waiting for the gun to fire.  In the mean time, I have to go daven shacharit (morning prayers.)

See you on the other side!

Oy, Canada! Part 2

A-Minus: 17 Hours

I'm sitting here in Canada, getting through the day. Toronto is actually quite a thriving Jewish city. I'm here in Thornhill, where you can get kosher pizza, chinese, and burgers all within a few feet (or metres) of eachother. You can bump into visibly Jewish people in the grocery store, see kids with yarmulkes playing basketball, and hear Hebrew spoken in the street. It's a major switch from Walnut Creek, where you can't even get kosher bread, and where I did not once randomly bump into a visible (yarmulke or sheitl-wearing) Jew during my entire four and a half years there.

Like most Jewish population centers with a high standard of Torah observance, Toronto is a magnet for Israeli expatriates. Not that they are necessarily attracted to the Jewish religion, but it reminds them of home. Still, it saddens me to see all the Israeli business names, like "Halutz Cleaners." Halutz means "pioneer" in Hebrew, and is a name that many Jews gave themselves in order to erase their European or Western backgrounds and set new roots in the land of Israel. Yet, two generations later, here they are in Toronto.

Toronto is not a particularly "pretty" city, at lest the parts I've seen, but there are nice patches of wealthy suburbs here and there. It feels quite a bit like Be'er Sheva, with luxurious and scrappy places in close proximity, and endless amounts of space and land, and so no incentive to gentrify or improve the existing strip malls and empty lots. The weather is hot, rainy, and humid, rather than Be'er Sheva's hot, dry, and humid. It doesn't have the skin-deep flashiness of California, or the pumping energy of a New York City, where people really look like they're "going" somewhere. Here they just sort of meander around. Or perhaps that's just my exhaustion and jetlag kicking in. Either way, I don't think I could ever live here, it's far too blah.

So I'm spending the rest of the day here struggling to lift my jet-lagged body off the chair to sort through my things. When I checked in for my Air Canada flight they actually weighed my carry-on, and it was 44 lbs rather than the required 22 lbs, so I had to either throw away 22 lbs of DVDs and books or pay $75 to check a third bag. I chose to throw the stuff away, though I managed to later retrieve some. What a painful loss. Then I checked my email and read Nefesh B'Nefesh's message that my load limit for tomorrow's flight is 17 lbs for carryon items, so now I have to go through and throw out another 5 lbs. It hurts, but I suppose I can just buy it again when I start my new life.

Oy, Canada!

A-Minus: 2 Days

Last Friday I finally closed up my life in Walnut Creek. I was up until 2 AM Friday morning throwing things out. I then collapsed and slept until 6 AM. Woke up, and continued throwing things out. I got in to work at noon, met with my boss who had come in during his vacation especially to meet with me on my new contract position and say goodbye, as well as to interview mechanical engineers, and then got out of the office. Cashed in four years worth of pocket change, closed two bank accounts, and then deposited the balance in the one American bank account I'm keeping. Then, I ran to the post office and mailed boxes and boxes of stuff I couldn't pack up to my parents. Ran to REI and picked up some shoes I had ordered, ran back to work, turned in my keys, cleaned out my office, and burned DVDs of data that I'll need to keep. Made it up to my shabbat hosts with 9 minutes to spare.

This morning, woke up restless at 4:30 AM, caught my plane and landed here in Toronto, where I'm staying with my friends Miriam and Meshullam, who moved here from Walnut Creek.

I'm reading the bad news coming from Israel in snippets. 24 soldiers killed, hundreds of rockets, civilian casualties, and, this may seem strange, I wish nothing more than to be there.

Phoneless and Homeless

A-Minus: 5 Days

I successfully transferred my phone over to Vonage (internet phone), but then AT&T disconnected my internet service a full two days before I had asked them to, so now I have no way of making or receiving phone calls from home. I can still receive messages, but I can only check them from a computer with an internet connection, so it may be a while until I can return phonecalls. I can still be reached at work until Friday. I can also be reached via email. Communications will be intermittent as I switch countries, but I will do my best to keep in touch with everyone. After landing I need to get up and running as soon as possible after landing so my employers don't forget about me.

I met with some of the partners and senior people here at work about how we're going to arrange things. There was a meeting where my situation was discussed, which I only heard about through the grape vine, at which there were both positive and hesitant voices as to keeping me with the company. I have been walking around the building popping into the offices of various partners to say my goodbyes, trying to probe which are the hesitant ones, then sitting down with them and outlining my telecommuting proposal to personally reassure them. Fortunately, both my supervisor and department head were in favor of giving it a try. The arrangement is that I will no longer be an employee but will be working part time on a contract (about 20 hours per week) for a trial period of 60 days. If, during this trial period I demonstrate that I can make this work, I will then be able to continue with them. Right now the company is swamped with work and inexperienced engineers, so I will be taking overflow work out of this office.

What this all means is that my postition with my employer is somewhat tenuous. It could be that they are waiting until they find someone proficient enough in what I do to replace me, or that they are going to keep me on until one of the more junior engineers reaches my level of knowledge, and then they will kiss me goodbye. It could be that they are going to hold onto me until the next recession. I don't know how long this will last, it could sixty days or five years. But the fact is, it seems unlikely that I will be growing old and gray with this company.

My attitude is.. whatever. I'll take whatever I can get. The part-time nature of the job means that I will have time to work and also to study in ulpan or yeshivah, so it can serve as a buffer, where I can still do productive work and not destroy my aliyah savings while I adsorb into Israeli society. If the job lasts longer, then maybe I can continue working part-time and go back to work on my masters degree during my spare time. Or perhaps the job will go back to full-time as they continue taking on more and more work.

I my coworker Rick and his wife Mary took me to dinner last night. We discussed the contractor's life, as he was a private engineering contractor for some time. I have friends who are freelancers, and the lifestyle doesn't appeal to me much, working 50% of the time and stressing out about finding work the other 50% of the time, so if this job doesn't work out, I will eventually end up looking for regular work in Israel, even though it might pay less.

Regardless of my worries about income, the fact is that I move out of my apartment tomorrow, fly to Toronto on Sunday, and fly to the holy land, Eretz Yisrael, on Tuesday, and I CAN'T WAIT!!

Cutting it Close

A-Minus: 6 Days

I'm running out of time here.

I need to finish a bunch of work up, negotiate my new contract with my employer, finish clearing out of my apartment, scan all relevant documents I will need for work, clear out my office, sell my car, and pack all of my bags over the next two and a half days. I'll need to make a trip to a food bank somewhere to get rid of my canned food. I've got a 6 quart kosher crock pot, if anyone wants a free one. I'm thinking I might need to take tomorrow morning off.

However, I'm making some serious progress.

-One suitcase is packed (I get two)
-My Vonage line is up and running, which took me three hours of working with tech support last night.
-My craigslist and ebay sales are finished.
-I have scanned many important documents to take with me.
-My kitchen is clean except for two ziplock bags of chicken for the next couple of nights in the fridge.

So it looks like I'll be working into the night.

The Verdict

My last post elicited an enormous number of responses. Everyone had advice from, “I’ll support you in whatever you do,” to, “You should wait a while until the dust settles,” to, “Go now. Just go.”

I had a difficult night, tossing and turning. It was so bad I accidentally got my neck and arms tangled in the power cord of my alarm clock and yanked it from the wall (I sold my bed and am sleeping on the floor.) I woke up without having really slept, still jittery. Went in to work and couldn’t focus. Left work, drove around, dropped some things off at Goodwill. Went to the gym, lifted weights, ran, and, huffing and puffing, I remembered my time in Israel.

I remember when the Intifadah first broke out in 2000. It was right around Rosh Hashanah time so school was out and most of the overseas students had headed off to go touring in Europe. When the news broke on the major networks I received panicked phone calls from my fellow students from their vacation spots in France, Italy, wherever, asking me to go into their rooms, pack their bags, and put them on a shipping palate bound for New York. They weren’t even coming back to get their things. Almost none of the students returned to finish the semester. Of course, my first reaction was, “What a bunch of cowards.” But I had an even deeper sense of pity for them. It was as if something were lacking, some unfulfilled potential, a missed connection. Am I losing that connection now?

The decision is clear. I don’t want to miss my chance, to lose my connection, so I’m going without delay. And I feel more strongly about it now than I did a week ago. It pains me to see the situation in Israel today, but I’m not doing anything to help that situation by sitting here and waiting for someone else to make it all better.

Got back from my jog, washed up, came back to the office with a clear head, and checked my mail. There was an email waiting for me from the office manager.

My proposal to continue working for my company via telecommuting has been accepted! Hopefully I will, IY”H, be able to continue earning a living while re-building my connections there. So it’s full speed ahead!

Options

A-Minus: 1 Week, 2 Days

I'm not blind, and I'm certainly not the Aliyah poster child some of you (or I, for that matter) thought I was. I'm watching the news like everyone else. I'm seeing missiles slamming into buildings in Haifa, and it's pretty clear that Tel Aviv is not long in coming, G-d forbid. Hundreds of rockets are heading into Israel every day, there are massive numbers of internal refugees, and the Israeli military and leadership are physically incapable of protecting ther citizens. Diplomats are talking about cease fires and UN resolutions, but wars have a life of their own, and I have a feeling this isn't ending any time soon. The situation is quite serious and I am torn between many opinions on my options.

On the one hand, I remember life during the intifadah, seeing news reports which made life in Israel appear to be a confusing and terrifying whirlwind. But I also remember having my own two feet on the ground, realizing that, no, life goes on, and that terrorism, while frightening, is more of a vague sense of unease rather than an accute panic.

On the other hand, I want to act prudently and safely. It may be a lack of zealousness on my part, but the Torah does instruct us on not taking unneccesary risks. Of course, if everyone had taken this "path of least resistance," there wouldn't be a state of Israel to go to.

On the other other hand, a lot of my angst about making aliyah began before this situation started. How much of my gut reaction is just an attempt to avoid a massive life upheaval and the pain of separation from family and friends? Am I just shying away from confronting my own attachments?

On the other other other hand, I don't see myself being able to get married and start a family here and begin my real life. And if I am to build a life in the Holy Land, I am certain to encounter this sort of situation at some point in my life. Perhaps it's better to confront it now, while I'm single, only responsible for myself, and able to change course if necessary.

Were I to stay in the United States, I know myself well enough to know that I would immediately turn back to pining for the Land of Israel, to the point that I wouldn't be able to focus on the rest of my life. Were I to postpone temporarily, I would be in a miserable state of "neither here nor there," but I would be physically and materially well off. If I go... well, that is the great unknown.

This is definately a test, but I don't know of what kind. Perhaps it's a test of will, to see if I have what it takes to go through with this major decision. Perhaps it's a test of maturity. At what point does aliyah change from an act of mitzvah fulfillment to an act of pride? Or, more correctly, of not being able to swallow my own pride at having invested four years of working and dreaming to the point that I am not able to act prudently? Perhaps it is a test of emunah (faith.) I am deeply conflicted. I feel that I am not able to begin life as it's meant to be lived here, and yet that I am not able to lunge forward with the zealousness essential for success.

Tisha B'Av

A-Minus: 1 Week, 4 Days

Today was Tisha B'Av. It's a 25 hour fast, with no food or water, in mourning for the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. My philosophy is that, if you're starving, you had might as well get paid for it, so I went in to work today. I spent most of the day scanning my design binders from all of my various projects I've done over the last four years. I can't fit all that weight in my suitcase, and I can't mail them now, so I figured I had better get them digitally.

In other news, I sold my bed. That was good news last night, since there's a minhag (custom) to sleep on the floor on Tisha B'Av, but now it looks like I'll be stuck on the floor for the rest of my week and a half here.

Not much else to report. Just exhausted from fasting, but glad it's over.

Dinner with Grandpa

A-Minus: 1 Week, 6 Days

Now that my plans are public knowledge at work, I was able to respond to Nefesh B'Nefesh's request that I give an interview. So I spoke with a reporter by phone today. Should make an interesting article. Perhaps, "Local Crazies to Build New Lives in War Zone."

In the mean time, Operation:Trash Heap has entered its final stages. I am now starting to give away items I couldn't sell. If anybody wants some cleaning fluids, canned tomatoes, or USB cables, email me and they're yours.


For the last three weeks, we have been observing the "Three Weeks," mourning the period between the breaching of the walls of Jerusalem and the destruction of the holy temple, a period during which the city was ravaged and destroyed by the Romans. One of the observances is that we avoid eating meat, so I've lost a few pounds by becoming an involuntary vegetarian. My grandfather took me out to a farewell dinner last night. Pictures below. I'll leave it to you to guess which one is me and which one is him. Notice how I seem to have inherited his right-leaning slouch.

Israel is Closed

A-Minus: 2 Weeks

Last night I disassembled my bike. Today I brought it to the box store and the clerk helped me select and modify some boxes. I used to have an ebay business, but it never really took off, and all I have left is the bubble wrap. So I took the last of the bubble wrap and stuffed it in to protect the bike, and shipped it off. Cost me $100 total to ship with UPS, but it's a $300 bike. I shipped it to my parents' house figuring I can reassemble it there and then I'll have some fun mountain biking. Hard to believe it costs more to ship a bike as it does to actually fly up there myself.

Then I went to the post office, mailed some other things on long-term loan back to their owners. The Philipino clerk remembered me from all fo my previous visits.
"You're still here? I thought you were going to Israel."
"Two weeks."
"Is your family there safe?"
"Seem to be. Most of them don't live up north."

I've been putting together another shipment of books for an M-Bag and was curious how expensive it is to ship 60 pounds, so the clerk punched it up on her computer.

She pointed to the screen.

Weight: 60 lb.
Airmail: $0.00
Parcel Post: $0.00
Surface Mail: $0.00

"You can't ship mail to Israel. It's closed."
Like, the whole country is closed.
"Mabye you can send it to one of the neighboring countries and then go and pick it up," she advised.
"The neighboring countries are the reason the mail has stopped going to Israel in the first place. I don't think they would be too happy to see me."

I'm thinking maybe I can leave the mail with friends here, and then have them ship it when the situation calms down. Whenever that might be.

My Dialect of English is:

Your Linguistic Profile:

55% General American English

20% Yankee

15% Upper Midwestern

5% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Planless

A-Minus: 2 Weeks

So what are my plans?

Don’t ask. I’ve been asked that question at least 20 times in the last week.

It’s odd because the last four years have seen me lying awake in my bed many nights hashing out some sort of plan of action. A year ago, I could have told you exactly what I was planning on doing. I knew when I wanted to land, which absorption center would absorb me, which ulpan would teach me Hebrew, at which yeshivah I would learn Torah, how I would make ends meet, and how I would hit the dating scene. But one by one, reality has blasted away my plans, and now I’m left with nothing.

It’s just difficult not knowing. The biggest factor is my job. I have no idea if they will accept my telecommuting proposal or not, which means that I don’t know if I will be able to reach some sort of financial self-sufficiency, or whether I will be in a race against the clock as I devour my savings. I’m planning on staying with some family in Jerusalem, but with the war against Lebanon appearing to be much longer-term than previously believed, and internal refugees finding shelter with relatives, I don’t want to be pushing others aside. I don’t know how long I’ll be welcome as a moocher. And who knows how badly this war will affect the economy? It is difficult to gauge my level of Hebrew while immersed in English, so I don’t know which ulpan I will need. Or if I will even need an ulpan.

I have therefore decided to “wing it.” I know that Nefesh B’Nefesh says that a successful aliyah is a planned aliyah, but I just can’t plan any further ahead than I am right now without actually being there. And so I proceed into the dark!

Word Isn't Out Yet

A-Minus: 2 Weeks, 4 Days

I'm still getting back into the swing of things after my vacation here. At the same time, I'm getting ready to leave.

I was walking down the hall and bumped into one of my semi-retired coworkers I hadn't seen for a while. His face beamed delight once he caught my eye.
"Oh, your here! Great!"
"Uh, yeah," I responded, "Good to see you too."
"I noticed you've been out of the office for a while. I thought maybe you had gone to Israel or something. I've been watching the news, it's CRAZY out there! What's that? You just went up north? What a relief!"
He clutched his chest, mimicking a near heart-attack.

Little does he know.

Giving Notice

A-Minus: 2 Weeks, 5 Days

Well now I've gone and done it.

I came in and gave notice to my supervisor. He was quite shocked. I eventually tried to explain how I'm torn between two countries.
"You picked a pretty lousy time to be doing this," he told me.
"I can understand why people would want to leave, but just imagine if you had a family member who was sick. You would want to be with that person, wouldn't you?"
After that, he seemed to get it.

Then I brought it to the partner in charge of our department. His eyes, grew round with surprize when I told him I was leaving. They grew even wider when I said I was going to Israel. He just sat there with a "Have you lost your [explitive deleted]-ing mind?" expression. I tried to explain it many different ways.
Finally, I said, "Well, you see, I feel like my career has been going very well lately, but my personal life is going nowhere," I told him, "I've wanted to get married and start a family for some time, but I'm having a lot of trouble around here. I've tried the internet, singles events, everything, and none of it seems to work. I figure that if I move over there, I'll have a better chance."
Finally he seemed to understand. Eureka!
"Yeah," he told me, "I get it. The women around here are too liberated. With us Indians, probably about half of the guys go back to India to get married. You need to find a girl who wants to stay home and take care of the kids."

I handed both of them copies of my resume and the telecommuting proposal I had written up. Their reactions were luke-warm. Once the shock wears off, they may wise up and see the logic of my proposal. Or they may simply hire someone else to replace me.

But it's out of my hands now.

Mission: Accomplished

A-Minus: 2 Weeks, 6 Days

And now for some good news... I PASSED the Professional Engineering exam! I am now a licensed P.E. After three years of exams, working, and studying, it's encouraging to have something to show for myself. At this point, I have met all of the goals I set for myself upon returning to America:

- I am out of debt.
- I have a P.E. license.
- I have a modest amount of money saved with which I can return to Israel
- I have lost 45 lbs.
- I have gained experience in my profession.

With victory in hand, it's time to withdraw from the Walnut Creek theatre of operations and redeploy on my next target.

So, what is my next target? Well, for the past few months, I have been nurturing a little plan. I have noticed that, at my job, I am almost always doing design and construction work for projects outside of the area, often as far away as Missouri or Washington. I have done all of my communications via email and have never had to actually visit a job site. That means that there is no technical obstacle to my continuing to do my job from Israel as a telecommuter. All I really need is an internet connection and a phone line, and now that internet phone is commerically available, I can get a local Walnut Creek phone number but answer the phone in Israel. I spent the last few months, in my tiny amounts of free time, typing up an official proposal and a resume to remind my bosses about all the projects I'm woking on. Despite the fact that I personally know it can work, I also know that my company is very conserviative and does business the old fashioned way. Also, they may think they can find someone to replace me quickly, or the workload may be slowing down, so I would give my proposal one chance in five.

This morning I came into the office and had copies of my resume and proposal all printed up and ready to go. Then the partner in charge of the mechanical engineering group marched into my office with a big smile and an extended hand.
"I want to congratulate you on your passing the P.E. exam!" he declared pumping my hand.
I looked down at the proposal in my hand, the first line of which says, "For personal reasons I will be moving to Israel on August 13th."
I quickly flipped the proposal over as he handed me an envelope. Inside the envelope was a bonus check for $500 ($286 after taxes) for completing the P.E.
"Thanks," I said as I sat back down. It just didn't seem right to snatch up the check and immediately declare I'm leaving. But time is running short, so perhaps tomorrow is the big day.

In the mean time I'm continuing my packing, selling, and trashing. And of course, like everyone else, I'm watching the news very closely. I'd be an idiot to pretend that the Islamic world is not waging yet another major war against the Jews. At the same time, I'm not going to let it sway my decision. Aliyah, like all mitzvot (Jewish commandments,) is a commitment to persevere through the good times and the bad. Unlike most of the other American kids in my ulpan,I didn't run away from Israel when the intifadah started in 2000, and I'm not going to let the Hezbollah, The Party of God (really, The Party of Satan) determine my future. Hassan Nasrallah does not have a veto on the Jewish right to live in the land of Israel. At the same time, I will not needlessly endanger myself, so no sightseeing on the Lebanese border for the time being.

But the war is having some impact on my aliyah plans. I shipped most of my books in M-Bags, on the slow boat to Israel assuming they would be there when I arrive. Now, because Hezbollah is bombing Israel's largest seaport in Haifa, most of the new olim (immigrants) are having difficulty getting their shipments. The port is closed as the dockworkers are spending most of their time in bomb shelters, like the rest of the north. And I have another bag to send. Unfortunately, I don't really have anything else to do with it, so I will probably just have to ship it and hope it makes it. Still, it's a small sacrifice given the round-the-clock bombardment the rest of the residents of the Galillee are living through.

May Hashem send a speedy victory to the Israel Defense Forces and bring Israel's soldiers back to their families safely. And may He send Hezbollah's terrorists back to their families in very small pieces.