Tag Archives: aliyah

When a Friend Comes To Visit

18 Jan

Over the last 6 years I have watched a lot of my friends pack up their lives and move away. This is a constant in my life.  People move across the world and sometimes, they move back. Or somewhere else. It would make sense that if you moved across the globe once, you are capable of doing it again (and again and again). And so it happens.

But then, sometimes they come back for a visit. And it feels like no time has passed at all.

Last night one of my close friends came back to Israel for the first time after deciding to give London another go. It has been six months since she packed up her belonging and moved back to London. Her older sister was my first flatmate in my first flat in Jerusalem. She and I became fast friends at the beginning of our journey here in Israel and our friendship has lasted 6+ years.

I took it quite hard when she told me she wanted to go back to London and try it again. I understood her need but as I looked in the mirror I got scared that one day I would utter the same words – that I wanted to give NY another go and it upset me greatly. You have to understand, I moved here without a second thought. This is my home, this is where I want to be and this is where I want to raise my family.

But when you see your friends itch to leave a country you call home, you start to wonder – what is it they all see  or feel that I don’t and will these feelings creep up on me until I feel suffocated and need to run away?

I am terrified of those feelings.  I do not consider NY home anymore (nor America for that matter).  But I have moved countries and I could do it again if I felt the need to.

Over the past 6 years a lot has changed. I am a lot more .. disappointed with the State of Israel. My heart hurts when I open up the newspapers (well websites really) and I read our current affairs. I am horrified by our politicians and our country’s policies.

And I am scared – that one day my disappointment in the leaders and society here will make me leave the one place in the world I call home.

 

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Six Years and Counting

14 Jul

Last night after a long day I got home and turned on my computer to wind down before bed. It had been a long day culminating at a small networking event for Female Entrepreneurs. That in itself was exhausting for a variety of different reasons none of which I am going to get into right now. I am still processing the messages I heard by different women with different experiences.

I came home, turned on the computer and up popped a skype message from my father wishing me a happy aliyahversary.

My what?! <mentally looking around> it had been six years?And how did he remember this special day? I mean, we all know birthdays are special but who would have thought anyone else cared about the day I moved to Israel? Lucky for me he uses outlook.  Lucky for me he understood how monumental July 14, 2004 was for me that he set a reminder to wish *me* a mazal tov.

Who celebrates moving to a different city each year? How many of our friends have actually moved countries?

Where are the Hallmark cards for this occasion?  Oh wait, this is not some made up holiday to make money. This is a real life experience which really doesnt need a card. It is an anniversary only those close to you will remember.

I have never been more happy with myself and the people in my life. And I dont think I would be as content if I had stayed in the United States.

Cawfee and Moving Day

6 Oct

This past Thursday I moved from Jerusalem, where I have lived for the past four years and moved to Tel Aviv.

Four years in Jerusalem is the longest span of time I spent in once city as an adult. This move felt like I was moving away from Home, again. Yet it was a move I wanted, no needed, to do for a long time.

Three years ago was the last time I moved apartments. It was my third apt in a year and a half and I made it into home. I had two very different and very wonderful roommates in that old apartment on Yehoshua Ben Nun.

It took me over a year to feel like that apartment was “my home” and not just where I lived. I feel very strongly about living somewhere that “feels like home”. It is not like I can just drive over to my parent’s house and wrap myself in that familiar coziness.

My new apartment with Stephanie felt like home in less than 24 hours of living here.

Lets go back to the day of moving….

I had arranged for the movers to come on Thursday around 9:30am (they were coming from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem) and I woke up at 7:30am after being up till 3 the night before packing. I had packed 4 boxes before Rosh Hashana and I had the rest of my apartment to pack. In the end I had packed 12 boxes, 6 suitcases, 2 duffel bags and two laptop bags.

Anywhoo- I needed to go get cash out of the ATM to pay the movers and I figured I’d have a problem with my account. Partly due to the fact that pre-Rosh Hashana my bank’s computer system crashed (hopefully not connected to the market mess out there) while waiting to transfer my $$ into Sheklaim. I have this wonderful bank teller in my bank who took my details and said she’d take care of the transfer once the computers were back up and running and low and behold two days later the $$ was shekalim and in my account.

So with my early morning errand completed I had time to grab a cup of cawfee at Aroma. I took it to go and hopped on a bus back to Yehoshua Ben Nun. Arrived in my soon to be empty apartment and sat down on my couch to think about this move. But of course me being a klutz I managed to spill my cawfee on the floor. Not on the boxes or suitcases but the little 1×1 foot of space without boxes.

Now three years ago on my moving day I spilled cawfee on myself but it was much worse. I made hot turkish cawfee for my 5 movers (yeah 5) and as I came downstairs to hand it to them on that chilly morning I slipped (here comes my klutziness), smacked my back on the stairs hard and spilled the boiling hot cawfee on myself. Yeah I have a scar from that move.

So it looks like every time I move I am bound to spill cawfee… As long as I know this I can make sure not to bang my back, burn myself or spill on my packed boxes/suitcases.

Stay tuned for Part Two: The moving truck filled with my stuff and the fire in the truck….

ps- the movers were incredible and ridiculously cheap. Victor’s movers: 052.220.2248