An Extremely Unofficial Photo Tour of Nachlaot

Today is a beautiful, sunny day with a slight breeze, and as I took the #7 past Gan Sacher (the big park near the Knesset, the Supreme Court, and my work) I listened to some old Israeli music and watched the narrow alleyways and flowering balconies of Nachlaot whizz by my window, like every day. But as the bus pulled up to my stop at the top of Bezalel street (home of some great cafes, a weekend art and vintage goods sale, and the famous Bezalel art school) I made a spontaneous decision to seize the moment and explore this neighborhood.

A musical suggestion for your ears as your eyes peruse this post
(Avraham Tal "אני לא מבין איך היום עולה עליי")

Nachlaot has been described as the Tsfat of Jerusalem and the Soho of Israel. Founded in the 1870s by Jews tired of the crowded Old City, Nachlaot is a cluster of micro-neighborhoods known for their narrow alleyways, quaint yellow-stone houses and hidden flowering courtyards. The government offered grants to improve the neighborhood back in the 1980s as it had fallen into disrepair, and it has since become the home of artists, musicians, young religious Jews from the USA, students and families. It's an eclectic mixture of religious Jews (at one time there were 300 synagogues within a few-block radius, although the number is now "only" 100) and relaxed artsy types.

I've dipped my toe into it a few times, but never with a goal of getting lost and taking pictures (the best way to discover anywhere). Thus begins my Unofficial Photo Tour of Nachlaot, which will tell you nothing of use because the point is to get lost, but will maybe inspire you to wander a bit yourself on your next free afternoon.

I started off down Bezalel towards Gan Sacher, passing Shalom Felafel, which my ulpan said was one of the best (I've never had it, so I can't say!)

Peeking through a gate at a pretty walkway off the main road.

The first of several lovely door/wall paintings I saw.

And into the labyrinth I go.

I love this hand-painted mailbox.

Obligatory cat picture...it doesn't matter how many strays I see here, I still love them.

This one seemed a little surprised to see me.

This mural understands me.

Paper birds blowing in the wind.

I found this gorgeous alleyway with a hand-tiled fence and some really cool art objects.

I love this backyard.

And of course I finished my wandering at a cafe on Bezalel street.

I got all of those pictures in only 20 minutes of wandering! I like my wandering in short bursts with frequent lengthy stops at cafes. What can I say. There is my photo tour of a tiny corner of Nachlaot, which is quite large because it encompasses many neighborhoods. Explore some off-the-beaten-path neighborhoods in your city! Or come explore Nachlaot if you happen to be in Jerusalem.

!להיתראות (See you later!)

Aliyah Stories: Bishop

“In Israel people do what they’re passionate about, and people notice them. I don’t play music to be famous, but because I like it, and if other people like it that’s cool.”

Bishop, 20 years old, has just made Aliyah to Israel this past February, from Memphis, Tennessee. A young musical artist, spiritual but not religious, for Bishop Israel is about creativity and passion, and it is where he has chosen to come to make his music.

Bishop loves the vibrancy and variety of Israel’s music scene, which he says is a result of Israel’s general diversity, welcoming Jews from all over the world each with their own musical style.

  

His group is called Red Music, the color of both anger and love symbolizing life’s contradictions, just like Bishop’s music, which blends the style of the 1960s with modern music.

Bishop grew up Jewish in Memphis, Tennessee, the son of a Moroccan Jewish mother and an African-American father. He is often mistaken for Ethiopian or Sudanese here in Israel and people are always surprised to find out he’s American.

Bishop describes the Jewish community in Memphis as close-knit. He shrugs off anti-Semitism in the States, saying he has experienced it in the form of off-color jokes and references but that it was subtle and he didn’t feel hurt by it. Bishop doesn’t think the racist joke-tellers are necessarily anti-Semites or bigots, but the remnants of a worldview passed down for generations among a certain class of white Christians; a slight distaste for those who don’t share their religion and skin color.

After graduating High School in Memphis, Bishop first came to Israel on a Masa gap-year program. A group of friends encouraged him to sign up so he decided to give it a try. He participated in a program called Aardvark Israel, living in the Florentine neighborhood of Tel Aviv and studying Hebrew, Jewish business ethics and Middle-Eastern politics while volunteering at Ozen Bar, where he met many Israeli musicians and even performed himself.

When he looks back on that semester he lived in Israel, Bishop recalls it was filled with signs he was meant to be there. He cites the extraordinary occurrence of finding an iphone on the ground at the shuk whose owner welcomed him into her family with gratitude and became his “Israeli mother”. He met amazing Israeli musicians, made great friends, and built his own fan base here in Israel.

He returned home after the program and started studying at the University of Memphis, but he knew it wasn’t where he was meant to be. When he looked around him, he saw his friends doing the same things they’d been doing in High School. Nothing was changing, and he couldn’t see himself living the life he wanted there.

So he came back to Israel, this time for good. At the moment he is working several jobs while performing his music. This summer he is going to volunteer at Kibbutz Magan Michael, learning Hebrew and working the avocado fields. “I’m a vegan, so it’s like heaven for me!” he jokes. Soon he’ll begin his army service.

And after that? Eventually, he wants to return to school, Bishop says. But until then he is happy making music and seeing what the future will bring. “If the universe wants it to happen, then it will happen.”

Aliyah Stories: Becky

Becky's journey of return is part of a greater legacy: returning to the land that sheltered her grandparents after they survived the Holocaust, fulfilling her grandmother's dream to return, and pursuing her own personal and professional dreams in the place where she feels she was meant to be.


Today's Aliyah story is that of Becky, a young woman from Fairfax, Virginia who officially made Aliyah in 2011, but has been living in Israel since 2008.

Becky moved to Israel right after graduating from the University of Pennsylvania and has been living in Jerusalem ever since. She is currently single, earning her master's degree in clinical psychology at Hebrew University while working part time doing research at the IDC.

Becky is in a sense completing the journey her family began decades ago.

Her grandparents on her father's side met and married in Israel before eventually moving to the United States, and her parents met while visiting Israel. Becky describes herself as coming from a "Zionistic traditional home" and adds that it was very important to her parents that she and her sister have a close relationship with Israel and a strong Jewish identity. Around every other summer she and her family visited Israel, and she celebrated her Bat Mitzvah here as well.

What prompted her to make Aliyah?

“It was a process and a decision that became clearer to me the more time I spent here,” Becky says.

Perhaps it began when she was first brought to Israel to meet her great-grandparents at 6 weeks old. Israel always felt like a second home to her, as she visited family there every other summer and spent a semester of high school traveling in Israel and living on a Kibbutz doing gadna (a week-long intro to the IDF for high-schoolers). She initially considered Aliyah after graduating from the University of Pennsylvania and studying at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem for a year, but returned to America when she was unable to find a job. For Becky, life in Israel means progressing both personally and professionally, and she knew she would feel frustrated in Israel if she felt stuck in her career. But she didn't give up on her desire to return, continuing to seek out opportunities in Israel. Luckily, a professor at the IDC offered her the opportunity to be his teaching assistant in positive psychology.

For more information on ways to come to Israel to study, volunteer, or intern, you can see my blog post “Bored? Have I got a Boredom-Buster for you” (spoiler alert: it’s Israel).

After a year and a half as a teaching assistant at the IDC, studying Hebrew in ulpan (intensive Hebrew class), and working as a psychology research assistant at Hebrew University, Becky knew it was only a question of when to make Aliyah, not if. She was accepted to PhD programs in Clinical Psychology in the United States, and to a Master’s program in the same field at Hebrew University.

 It was decision time—and Becky decided to commit to building her life in Israel.

“I feel I can really contribute to the Jewish people here and that this is truly our home,” she says. “Although I get frustrated and disagree with Israel's policies a lot, I want to be part of the discussion here and try to make change. In the end, it felt right in my heart and I'm really glad I listened to my gut and decided to go for it.”

Her family was very supportive of her decision, both her cousins here in Israel and her parents, who visit often from America. Before accepting that initial teaching assistant position that brought her back to Israel, Becky recalls speaking with her grandmother, who was very ill. Her grandmother encouraged her to follow her heart, saying that it had always been her dream to return to Israel. Becky has carried this with her on her Aliyah journey. “I feel blessed that I'm able to fulfill something that she always hoped to achieve and feel connected to my heritage,” she says.

For Becky, already living in Israel, making Aliyah did not involve a dramatic flight or so many physical changes. Instead, she says, she felt a strong emotional difference. “I was making the conscious decision to build my life here. I started really investing in my friendships, learning the language and culture, and creating a home for myself in a different way than when I was here temporarily. And of course, there was a lot more bureaucracy to deal with!”

She spent the whole first month dealing with various government agencies, as her case was especially complicated due to her father renouncing Israeli citizenship, and her making Aliyah while possessing a temporary residency permit. However, Becky kept her sense of humor and even gained something from the frustrating experience of bureaucracy. “I felt I was truly becoming Israeli as I learned to be more assertive and make good friends and connections with those who could help. A lot of friends have sent their new olim friends to me because they consider me an expert in dealing with Israeli bureaucracy!”

If you don't have the same bureaucratic skills as Becky, the Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption can help too. We have personal absorption counselors that can help you once you've made aliyah, to ease the absorption process. Click here for more information and links to contact information for Absorption Bureaus and Branches all over Israel.

 Becky's biggest challenge after making Aliyah was adjusting to a Master’s program in Hebrew. Although she spoke pretty good Hebrew, high-level statistics and conducting therapy in Hebrew was a new trial. Luckily, the support of her classmates and professors helped her through the difficulties of that period.

The Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption can help with this too.  The Student Authority was established in 1968 to help new olim students with their unique challenges in adjusting to life in Israel academically and in general through trips, social and psychological aid, tutoring, and financial assistance. You can find more information here.

Overall, Becky says she feels at home here in Israel and is grateful to be able to contribute to the Jewish state and grow personally and professionally while surrounded by friends and family here. She concedes that it is difficult sometimes to be so far from her immediate family and close friends in America, but between visits and modern technology they can keep in touch.

“There are things that I miss about American culture and values,” Becky says, “but some things I've tried to implement here while also accepting the differences and appreciating the things I love about being here. I love how people open up their homes and are truly there to help, that the holidays the country is celebrating are my holidays, and that I feel I'm making a difference to the Jewish people and our home.”

Looking to the future, Becky hopes to continue to build her life here in Israel, help people as a psychologist and get married and start a family.

Thank you for sharing your story, Becky! I wish you the best of luck here in Israel.

As always, feel free to comment with your impressions and let me know if you would like to have your Aliyah story featured on my blog!

Adventures in Hebrew

I didn't learn the Hebrew alphabet through the nice little song, but a plain chart, when I was seven years old.
My Hebrew School teacher would point her stick at each letter on her big poster and we would dutifully recite them after her. To this day the only way I can recite the alphabet is in a rushed list—"alef, bet, vet, gimel, daled…" including all the sofits and soft letters. But I followed along in the siddur in shul when I was a kid while my mom led services as the cantor, and every Thursday evening we would sit down and read a children's book in Hebrew, my mom translating every few lines of Eloise or The Giving Tree after I laboriously stumbled through the letters.


I didn't start actually learning what the words meant until 9th grade, when I started an after school program in Hebrew.  Sure, I had learned scattered words from Jewish summer camp. Words like cheder ochel (dining room) and chugim (electives). But even when studying for my bat mitzvah we focused on learning the torah and half-torah trope, those extra symbols and tunes, and learning my portion.

In my after school program I didn't exactly give 100% effort…it was once a week after school for four solid hours, and then Sunday mornings. Neither were the best of times. I threw a fit my first year that I had to go, despairing of ever having time to get all my homework done, hang out with friends, and go to Hebrew School. In the end, it was a great experience, resulting in some good friends I am still in touch with, and I even somehow managed to learn some Hebrew and Tanach in those four years.

By the time I arrived in Israel this past September, I hadn't studied Hebrew in four years. The diagnostic test I was asked to complete before arriving was pathetic, with most of my answers in English. When my program started our month-long intensive ulpan (3.5 hours a day) I was placed in the beginning class. However, as we learned the verbs "rotzah" (to want) and nouns like "eesh" (man) I quickly realized that was not going to be useful to me. I switched up to the lowest intermediate level, and found my groove. Somehow I went from not being able to say more than my one trademark sentence "ayfo hashirutim?" (Where's the bathroom?) to whole conversations and sentences! Once I started my internship full time we stopped ulpan,  but my Hebrew continues to improve because I am so immersed in it every day.

Everyone in my office speaks Hebrew, my computer desktop is in Hebrew, all the inter-office emails I get are in Hebrew. Our Facebook page is mostly in Hebrew, and I even manage our Hebrew-language Twitter account. The standard morning tradition, I soon discovered, is chatting over an instant coffee for 10-30 minutes first thing in the morning with my coworkers. In Hebrew. Lunch discussions are in Hebrew, work meetings are in Hebrew...I could go on.

This is a great way to immerse myself in Hebrew, and my comprehension has infinitely improved. However, it is also quite challenging because my Hebrew is nowhere near a level where I can say what I want to say, and understand everything I hear.

In simple conversations where people aren't speaking too fast, it's on a subject I happen to know something about, and I concentrate very hard with minimal distractions, I can understand the gist of what is going on. Without these specific factors, or if the conversation features a key vocab word I don't know, I am totally lost. My coworkers are used to the blank and slightly panicky expression they are faced with when they casually aim some rapid-fire Hebrew at me.

But I am improving. I can hold basic conversations, depending on the subject, when I really need to, and when I have the energy. I can tell you one thing for sure, trying to learn Hebrew has definitely made me appreciate my French, which I've studied for 9 years much more intensively than Hebrew, and which I majored in at University. Of course, I also lived in France for a year, which improved my French exponentially. But when I was 13 and just starting French I couldn't imagine speaking it like I do now. I'll take that as an inspiration that maybe someday I'll say the same thing about Hebrew.

I do have some funny stories from my early attempts to speak Hebrew…

For example, when I was introducing myself to my coworkers on my first day at the office I tried to say I was excited, but instead said I was getting married (they sound similar in Hebrew, ok??) My coworker congratulated me and I thanked her with a huge grin, slightly confused. Another colleague who saw this drama unfold and understood the miscommunication enlightened my coworker before she bought me a wedding present. They got their revenge on April Fool's Day, when they convinced me another coworker was getting married (I didn't know Israelis celebrate April Fool's!). But the joke was on them because she got engaged just a few weeks later! But back to embarrassing stories about me...

On another occasion, while exploring the Neve Tzedek neighborhood of Tel Aviv with a colleague after a work meeting, I accidentally told her I am a taxi. Let me tell you, she got a laugh out of that one.

Luckily my stories are quite benign, but I've heard of some that are much more cringe-worthy (and hilarious of course). For example, my flat mate was trying to tell her colleague that she loves strawberries…but she used the wrong gender ending for the plural. Instead of tutim she said tutot. The first means strawberries… the second is a slang word not to be confused with a cat.

In the meantime I am struggling along with my Hebrew, generally only speaking it when absolutely necessary, i.e. confronted with an unfamiliar Hebrew speaker on the phone or in person, for work, or on the bus, in restaurants…

But 8 months in, I can definitely feel the improvement.

Hebrew really isn't the hardest language to learn, especially compared to the complications of French grammar. There's no conditional tense, no subjunctive, no compound tenses and only one form of past tense (phew!). Basically, Hebrew grammar is very orderly and simple once you know the verb families. I am just seriously lacking in vocabulary, which is completely my own fault.

Like I said…it's a work in progress.

Do you have any funny stories about your adventures learning Hebrew? Any particularly frustrating moments? Let me know in the comments!

Bored? have I got a boredom-buster for you...

Bored at work? Ready for something new, a change of scene, an adventure? Have I got an adventure for you...

Come to Israel! Aliyah is of course an option, but there are lots of ways for Jews to come to Israel without making Aliyah, just to experience life in the Jewish State and discover the Israeli side of Judaism. Programs ranging from 10 days to 10 months will give you unforgettable life experiences and professional and personal growth. 

And if you like it so much you don't want to leave…the Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption is here for you!

Ten days or ten months or a lifetime—it's up to you to take a chance and discover somewhere new!


Taglit-Birthright Israel: http://www.birthrightisrael.com/

What it is: A FREE (really, actually, no-strings, including 3 meals most days, free) ten-day heritage trip to Israel, for Jews living all over the world between the ages of 18 and 20

Length: Just 10 days!

The details: Taglit-Birthright Israel is the non-profit group that sets the guidelines for the trips and funds them, but the specific trip you go on is organized by one of many trip organizers, ranging from your university Hillel to your community synagogue, federation, or summer camp. You can go to your local organization of choice to find out when their trips are, or you can search through the Taglit-Birthright Israel website for details on the various trips, as there are slight differences. For example, some are non-denominational while others are more religious (although in general Taglit-Birthright is geared toward less-engaged Jews), and some are "adventure" trips which include more physical activities in Israel, while others are geared toward those with disabilities.

Dates to know: Taglit has trips twice a year, winter and summer, but exact dates vary based on the organizer. Summer registration for North America is closed already (it's still open in the rest of the world!), and Winter registration will open at the end of August. You have to register with a specific trip organizer, so do your research in advance, taking into account the dates of the trip!


Onward Israel: http://www.onwardisrael.com

What it is: Onward Israel provides six to ten-week resume-building experiences in Israel for alumni of short-term Israel trips, including internships, service learning, academic courses, and fellowships to get a deeper understanding of Israel.

Length: 6 to 10 weeks, usually during the summer.

The details: The program is organized through local communities in North America and around the world, including local federations and other Jewish organizations, and provides cross-cultural resume-building experiences. Each program is organized with a specific community outside of Israel and is up to 70% subsidized by the Jewish Agency, meaning you pay an extremely affordable price for a summer in Israel. Go to the website to find out what organizations in your area have Onward Israel programs.

Dates to know: Programs are over the summer, but specific dates will vary by program, so start looking now!


Masa: www.MasaIsrael.org

What it is: Masa offers over 200 different programs ranging from five to ten months, both for gap-year students (18 year olds) current university students, and university graduates (22-30). Programs range from academic to working on kibbutzim to volunteering to professional internships in the public, private, and non-profit sectors.

Length: Programs range from 5 to 10 months, but the exact dates depend on the program.

The details: Masa offers over 200 different programs of all different kinds. Whether you’re looking to study Hebrew for a year, volunteer on a Kibbutz or in Tel Aviv, teach English in cities across Israel, or intern with different companies, non-profits, or Government ministries, you can search through the Masa website to find programs! Masa offers a grant to help cover the costs of the program, which varies according to program. Masa also organizes conferences and events for participants of various programs so you can meet people on other programs.

Dates to know: Fall and year programs usually start at the end of August/beginning of September, and Spring programs start at the end of January. Exact dates vary based on the program! Applications are usually rolling, although the earlier you apply the better!

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And there are lots of ways to stay involved once you get back to your home country too! From Birthright NEXT Shabbat dinners to Yom Hatzmaut festivals and your local Hillel, JCC, or synagogue, there are lots of Israel programs you can look into.

Some helpful websites you can look at to learn about Israel as well:

Makom: http://makomisrael.org

Resources for educators, Jewish communities, and individuals to learn about Israel, discussing its controversies and current events and how they relate to the Jewish diaspora.

Hartman Institute iEngage Project: http://iengage.org.il

The iEngage project is all about connecting Diaspora communities, especially in America, to Israel in a new and dynamic way. There are some great articles on their website, and opportunities to work further with them via internships and gap year studies.

And of course, if you decide you want the adventure to keep going, you can contact Nefesh B'Nefesh if you're in an English-speaking country, or your local Israel emissary or Aliyah organization, or The Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption at one of our centers in Israel: http://www.moia.gov.il/English/About/ServicePoints/Pages/default.aspx 

If you have any other programs to suggest, I'd love to hear them!

Mourning and Memory: Yom Hashoah

Yesterday, April 28th, was Yom Hashoah here in Israel. The National Day of Remembrance of the Holocaust.

It started Sunday night, April 27th (In the Jewish calendar one day is from sundown to sundown).


My program was invited to attend the official State ceremony at Yad Vashem, where we listened to speeches by Bibi, President Peres, and the Speaker of Knesset, heard musical performances, and most importantly, heard the brief testimony of seven survivors, six of whom lit torches in honor of the 6 million.


The next day was a normal business day, but it didn't feel like one. At 10 AM a two-minute siren went off and we stood, silent, heads bowed, lost in thought as the sound pierced the entire country of Israel.


What did I think of? The same thing that struck me at the State ceremony...that we were mourning these people from Israel, our own state. And the beauty and importance of this country struck my heart.


We are still here. A whole nation remembering and honoring our lost, but strong, vibrant, bartering in the shuk and relaxing at the beach. Those people in unmarked graves with no family left to mourn them will forever be remembered and cried for by us.


And our lives, with all our joys and sorrows, are a testament to the failure of the hatred that snuffed them out.


It was a hard day. So hard that just writing a brief post about it on Facebook brought me to tears multiple times. The pain that our people suffered, the memories that survivors live with every day, I usually push it aside. I couldn't function with that sorrow every day. But yesterday I faced it, I let it wash over me because that sorrow is part of who I am, is part of the Jewish people. It's a sorrow that pushes us forward, to be strong and brilliant, to empathize and to help whenever we can.


I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world yesterday.

Through the Looking Glass: It's Coffee Time

I've decided to call this section, where I talk about my observations of Israeli life, "Through the Looking Glass" because landing smack in the middle of another culture and learning about how they operate can sometimes make one feel like Alice in Wonderland, wandering through an alternate reality. There are many similarities and there are also some differences—whether amusing, frustrating, or exhilarating.

Today's topic is: Coffee. More specifically: The Israeli obsession with instant coffee.

My New Best Friend

So, full disclosure, I love love love coffee. In America I would brew some vanilla flavored or classic Mokka-Java in my coffee pot every morning and drink it black. And then maybe get an afternoon iced coffee from Starbucks. With some vanilla syrup for good measure ;) The true coffee snobs will scoff at me. I didn't bother with a French press, or a pour-over chemex, I let my ground coffee beans sit in a bag on the counter for weeks, and I even added sugary syrups and flavoring occasionally. But I did draw the line at instant coffee. I experimented with it when living at the dorms at UCLA, where I couldn't plug in a coffee pot and we had to hide our electric kettle when the RA came by, but it was always disgusting.

However, here in Israel I have had to adjust my attitude. American-style drip coffee appears to be a rarity here (although I found one café on Emek Refaim that sells a good big mug of strong brewed coffee), it's mostly espresso-based drinks and instant. I haven't seen a single coffee machine in my 6 months here. In this environment I have actually grown to like Nescafe, the ubiquitous instant coffee here. The only other kind I've seen is the red canister of Nemes, which I personally think tastes like dirt. Based on the preferences of everyone at work, so do they. At work I have 3-4 small cups of Nescafe with a few tablespoons of 3% milk a day (the whole dairy-fat thing deserves to be the subject of another "Through the Looking Glass" post I think).

Most of my daily coffees are part of the delightful Israeli coffee-break ritual, which I love. It begins when I walk in first thing in the morning, and we spend 15-45 minutes (depending how much work there is that day) sipping milky coffee and chatting. I love this. It's a great chance to practice my Hebrew and ease into my day, catching up with the girls in my office. Of course, the spokesperson's office never sleeps, so they are answering calls and writing emails while we sip our warm beverages. Then usually around 11 I go back downstairs from my upstairs corner and sip a coffee and catch up, although sometimes if I’m very busy I skip this. Then in the afternoon, around 2 or 3 I’m back at our little coffee corner, dumping a tiny spoonful of instant coffee in a little cup, to swirl with hot water and milk for my latest fix.

I never thought I would actually develop a taste for instant coffee, but I suppose it’s more of a taste for the friendly conversation and the short breaks it provides in my day, when I can get away from the computer screen to interact with other people and walk up and down some hallways and stairs to shake off the cobwebs.

My office works hard, but they know how to enjoy the day as well—with a cup of Nescafe and a bageleh.


Bageleh: salty sesame cookies that go perfectly with a milky Nescafe.
Picture from: http://www.eatdreamtravel.com/2012/07/jerusalem-light-and-stone.html#!/2012/07/jerusalem-light-and-stone.html

Aliyah Stories: Moshe Tzvi

Today I present to you the Aliyah story of Moshe Tzvi, from Cleveland, Ohio, who made Aliyah with his wife and four children ages 10, 9, 6, and 3 in August 2013, to Ma'alot in Northern Israel.

His wife is a practicing OB-GYN and he is a former software executive, with previous positions including CTO and Vice President of Product Management, who is currently looking for work in Israel. His wife attended medical ulpan upon arriving in Israel, but Moshe did not, as he is already proficient in Hebrew. The medical ulpan was very helpful for Moshe's wife, who says that there was no way she could have started out at her job as actively as she did if she had not had ulpan. She says she doesn’t know how anyone from the US could be a doctor in Israel without the medical ulpan (unless they were already fluent of course!)

More information on vocational ulpanim offered by the Ministry can be found here.

When planning the move, their biggest concern was for the kids' transition. In Ma'alot it's not predominantly English speakers. Most kids at school don't speak English, so they were worried. But, says Moshe, "thank G-d, it's been fantastic." The kids have acclimated remarkably well. They've made friends and have play dates at home and at their friends' houses. Moshe and his wife are very pleased with how well the kids have adjusted.

Moshe says he and his wife have always felt that Israel is their home. There was no question as to whether to make Aliyah, only a question of timing. They wanted to make the big move while their kids were young, so the adjustment would be easier for them. In addition, the process for medical certification for Moshe's wife took time. She had to finish all her certifications so her license would transfer over and she wouldn't have to re-do all of the testing. There was a lot of paperwork for her to get certified in Israel. Once she sent it all in the certification process worked relatively well. She has to do a three-month residency at a hospital here, which she has now started. But she had to wait a month initially for the bureaucratic details to be worked out. The Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption provides the hospital with funding for her during this period and they had to wait for this to be arranged with the hospital. Other than that wait, the process has been pretty smooth.

The Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption has numerous certification and professional training courses to help professionals transition to working in Israel. More information can be found here.

Moshe, his wife, and their family, have visited Israel many times over their lives. Moshe attended post-high school programs and summer programs, staffed different summer programs, and visited on family trips. Last April he and his wife participated in one of Nefesh B'Nefesh's pilot trips. Moshe describes it as a "very focused trip" where every day they visited a different city that could be their potential home. They met with principals of schools, other olim, and real estate agents in each place. The trip was "exceptionally helpful" for Moshe and his family.

Before the trip, Moshe and his wife were thinking of different cities to live in, but ended up changing their decision based on what they saw and heard during their visits. They had put Ma'alot, where they currently live, on the list because they didn't know much about it, but they were very happy with what they found there on the trip. On the other hand, other cities they had thought would be good fits before visiting turned out to raise questions. In the end, Moshe calls the pilot trip "critical" to their successful move.

Although Moshe has second cousins living in Israel, they don't have any close family, and nobody living near them. He says family in Israel was not a big concern in their Aliyah decision.

Moshe and his family love living in Ma'alot. Moshe and his wife like the suburban feel of the town, with a house and a yard like he and his wife grew up with. They really like the schools in the area as well. The principle of their sons' school actually just won an award a few months ago. They wanted to live somewhere with a more "Israeli" feel, not a mini-America within Israel like some towns are. They also found the northern climate very appealing, as it is cooler than in much of the country.

They have been trying to take advantage of all the beautiful nature in the north by going on hikes and visiting various attractions. They have a map of Israel provided by the National Park Service, with a checklist of the country's national parks, which the kids have started to check off, with the goal of visiting them all.

Upon first arriving in Israel, Moshe says, they felt "excited…certainly emotional" to be here. "We were cautious about the adventure ahead of us, we didn't really know how everything was going to work out, with the kids and work and everything." Moshe says they are definitely feeling more comfortable now, 8 months in. Every day that goes by things get more settled for them. The fact that their kids have done so well was "a huge confidence builder in regards to the move and to some of our uncertainties" he adds. Still looking for work, Moshe concedes that there is still a lot of uncertainty, but a number of their initial concerns have been addressed and sorted out, and they are still incredibly happy to be here. Looking into the future, he says he looks forward to having a job and integrating professionally. He looks forward to his kids growing up, being part of Israeli culture, and starting their own families, hopefully close by.  

"We believe this is the right place for us," Moshe concludes, "this is home…and we have a lot of excitement and confidence about what lies ahead."

Our Ministry is here to help families like Moshe’s, with financial assistance in the form of the Absorption basket, with professional development courses and ulpanim, and special programs for scientists, artists, and athletes. You can find more information about how the Ministry helps with employment here.

We also work with community groups and local government to help new olim absorb into their communities. For more information about any of the programs we offer, we encourage you to contact one of our local offices here.

Before making Aliyah you can also contact a Jewish Agency representative or Nefesh B’Nefesh in North America for more information. Arrange a one-on-one meeting with a Nefesh B'Nefesh representative here.   

Aliyah Stories: Natan

As part of this blog, I'll be interviewing olim, both new and long-timers, about their Aliyah experiences to share with you. These aren't just people with spectacular stories, but regular people like you and me, who decided to make Aliyah for various reasons. My hope is that these stories will give you a better idea of why people choose to make Aliyah, what the process was like for them, and how they felt at different stages. What struggles they faced, and what triumphs.

If you're an oleh/olah and would like to be interviewed for this blog, feel free to contact me at zivas@moia.gov.il!

To start off this series I spoke with Natan, who is currently living in Ma'alot, in the North.

 

Natan is married, with four children, and moved to Israel from Atlanta, Georgia roughly 7 months ago. He runs an e-commerce business, and his wife is a homemaker. Here in Israel their four children are all in school, ranging from kindergarten to 8^th grade. Natan and his wife just finished their six month ulpan and are now both looking for work.

Natan’s ulpan was provided through the municipality for new olim. Natan attributes this to the government’s desire to promote Aliyah to the North and South by providing additional services for olim to these areas. It is abnormal for them to have an ulpan in such a small town, but there are enough olim here, Russian, British, and American, to support a class. The other nearest ulpan options were Nahariya or Karmiel. 

According to Natan his children are adjusting well to the move, for the most part. Their oldest son had troubles in the beginning, adjusting to the new country, new school, new language. Natan has a mildly autistic son, and accommodating him was a major consideration in his family’s Aliyah preparations. They researched schools and programs before arriving. Because he is very high-functioning, he goes to a regular school but he is in a special class.

As for the adjustment of Natan and his wife, the big question is: finding work.

So far it's mostly the local municipality that has been helping with their job search. They're also searching online. It hasn't been all that urgent yet, because Natan has his own business, so they've been pretty casual about it so far. They would like to find work though, because they want to be more immersed in Israeli life. As Natan says: "we're not going to learn Hebrew sitting at home."

The Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption offers numerous programs to help with the job search, including SELA job-search workshops for professionals, preparatory courses for licensing exams, and professional training and re-training courses, in addition to ulpanim. Our Ministry Advisors are happy to help new olim through the job search process, and more information can be found here.

Coming to Israel

Natan visited Israel several times before making Aliyah. He traveled to Israel for the first time one summer with Camp Ramah, the American Jewish summer camp, and has visited many times after that. He and his wife have visited Israel together twice since their marriage. They also came to Israel on a Go North pilot trip with Nefesh b'Nefesh for a couple of weeks, after hearing about the Go North program.

Natan says they chose the North, and specifically Ma’alot, because they wanted to live somewhere quieter and more suburban. They didn't want to be in an inner city.

As for Ma'alot, the city Natan and his family chose to settle in, Natan says he loves it. They found an apartment with "an amazing view," Natan gushes. It's a little on the expensive side Natan says, "but you get what you pay for." Natan described the people of Ma'alot as "unbelievably helpful." At this time they can't afford a car, but the bus transportation is "fantastic." They've made friends as well. In fact, Natan's wife went shopping for the kids' costumes for Purim with some friends who invited her the day of my conversation with Natan. He feels they have had a great success in getting settled here in Ma'alot.

Most of the Israelis they come into contact with speak English, but not as a first language. There are some native English-speakers, although Natan would not describe them as living in an “Anglo” neighborhood. “We mostly interact with Israelis,” he says. “We didn't move to Israel to speak with Americans!”

Natan and his wife’s main reason for making Aliyah was their children. They wanted their kids to grow up with a strong Jewish identity. America, as Natan explains, “is not a very Jewish country. Everywhere you turn, there's a holiday season. Valentine's Day, Easter, Christmas. We wanted our children to go to school with other Jewish people, to live as much of a Jewish life as possible. You can do that in the US but it's not as easy, and it's not as free.”

They don't have any family in Israel, says Natan, so that wasn’t a major factor in their decision to make Aliyah or where to live in Israel. They have some contacts here, but nobody close. His parents have discussed making aliyah, they were looking into it at the same time as Natan and his family, but they're not ready yet according to Natan. They’re taking their time. So far, Natan and his wife are the first to make the move to Israel.

As far as the Aliyah process goes, it was not particularly difficult, Natan says. He adds that there were other factors for his family that delayed their departure. They needed to rent out their home in the US and prepare their son for his Bar Mitzvah. They wanted to do that before making Aliyah because they have a large family that wouldn't all have been able to come to Israel. So they intentionally delayed their relocation for a while. They also didn't want to relocate in the middle of the school year. So they chose to move in summer, otherwise they could have done it a few months earlier. In Natan’s estimation, the process takes around a year for a family. For one person, a single, it would probably be much faster, maybe a couple months, considering paperwork, he adds.

Looking to the Future

As of the time of our interview, Natan and his wife’s biggest goal is to find work they enjoy and to improve their Hebrew. For his kids he hopes they become absorbed into Israeli culture and life. “Our hopes for the future are nothing really profound,” Natan says, “except to be happy, healthy, and successful.”

He added that he thinks improving his Hebrew is crucial to his integration here. “Although we're getting along fine as we are, we're not where we want to be. We want to be more comfortable getting out and speaking to people. There's nothing that really prepares you as much as just sitting down and having a conversation with somebody in Hebrew. My wife and I just haven't been able to do that yet. Going to ulpan five hours a day five days a week and then getting home and getting ready for the kids to come home,  we haven’t been able to immerse ourselves in Israeli culture yet like we would like to.”

To sum up where they’re at right now, Natan says, “we’re settled, but I don't really feel settled yet. I haven't had time to take a breath. It's a mixed bag. We're finally starting to get settled and comfortable, and then we realize we have to go do something else!”

A huge thanks to Natan for taking the time to speak with me, and best of luck in adjusting to life in Israel and learning Hebrew!

If you're an oleh chadash, you can contact one of the Ministry’s branch offices with questions here.

Or you can contact a Nefesh B’Nefesh representative or the Jewish Agency if you haven’t yet made Aliyah.

Feel free to comment if you have any suggestions or advice for Natan, or if you would like to be interviewed for my next Aliyah Story!

Flowers in the Desert: A Hike Through the Anemones of Shmurat Pura

I recently discovered an English-speaking hiking group based out of Jerusalem and to escape my usual weekend routine (though I do love lying around watching TV, drinking coffee, and reading in my pajamas) I decided to go on a hike they advertised as a “flower hike”. The fact that it was Valentine’s Day back in the states and my boyfriend and I are separated by about 7,500 miles played no role in my desire to get out of the apartment and distract myself. None at all.

So I woke up at 5:30 Friday morning in order to meet them by 7. Everything went smoothly, so that at roughly 7:15 I was rolling away from the parking lot in Jerusalem in the back of a car with an olah chadash from America and two other veteran olim from the States. We chatted about our respective backgrounds and reasons for ending up in this beautiful crazy country. The new olah came to Israel because there is a lot of work for landscape architects. Another came to study, ended up taking a tour guide course, for which she made Aliyah (although it turned out not to be necessary) and in the process of that, decided to divorce her husband. Now she works as a hypnotherapist. But I didn't find that out until the ride home, as she initially introduced herself to me as a writer. How many jobs does this woman have? Frankly, I think her story must be fascinating. Maybe one day I’ll be able to hear her story in more detail and share it with you all here. I don’t remember her name though, which might be a problem. I am really bad with names and faces. Sorry, world.

Anyways, back to this hike. When I said I work for the Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption the new olah mentioned her difficulties in reaching an actual person to talk to here, and I told her to try asking us questions on Facebook, as we always try to respond and point people in the right direction. I don’t really know enough about how this giant ministry works to give more help than that, I've only been here 4 months and my less-than-perfect Hebrew knowledge makes t a bit more difficult to understand everything that's going on in this huge Ministry.

Anyways. So we get to Shmurat Pura, which apparently is famous for the flowers at this time of year. And sure enough, pretty little red flowers that looked like poppies carpeted the rolling green hills. Not as many as I’d hoped, it wasn’t exactly a thick red carpet, so I was slightly disappointed at the beginning, but I held out hope that it would improve as time went on. And it did! It was an easy 3-hour hike, which would probably be even faster with fewer people. For an area called the Northern Negev it was extremely green. There were lots of green fields of some plant—wheat perhaps? Hills spotted with red anemones (Fun fact: not poppies, poppies have black spots anemones lack, and anemones have a little wreath of green just underneath the blossom that poppies lack). I tend to be pretty quiet when hiking, as I look around me at nature and let my mind wander and reflect, so I mostly walked alone. Occasionally I would end up next to someone and we would chat. Our group of about 30 people combined with another group of about 30 that hikes to raise money for disabled children, so we had a pretty big group. I was definitely the youngest, as I usually am in my activities because I have the tastes of an old lady (no, I really do. I like cats, reading, tea, antiques, bed and breakfasts, flower hikes…the list goes on).



















When we were almost back the woman I was walking with spotted a smartphone lying on the ground. Someone had dropped it, so we tried calling the previous called number, which got us the name Jill and a home number, and luckily we found said Jill once we reached the parking lot. Success! The panicky fear of losing a phone is something I wish on no one.

At the parking lot, somebody had set up a little juice stand squeezing fresh juice. This was a genius idea, as Israelis love juice (well ok, who doesn’t?) and it was a pretty hot sunny afternoon. I didn’t get any juice, but on the way back we stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break and I got an ice café. That really hit the spot. If anyone reading this has never had an ice café…please, please try one. It’s like a coffee milkshake and it is so good my mouth waters every time I think about it. They have “diet” ice cafes too but…they just don’t have the same sinfully delicious taste. They sell them everywhere but I prefer the ones at a certain large café/bakery chain found all over Israel (that I cannot name for legal reasons, but hopefully you’ll figure it out).


I was home by early afternoon, tired, dusty, sweaty, and sticky from ice café drips, but glad I had forced myself out of the house to experience some of Israel’s gorgeous landscapes.


I have been on several hikes around Israel, including a daylong hike through the Negev during which we climbed an incredibly steep canyon (read: sheer cliff face with metal rings for handholds and occasional ropes) and I can see why it’s such a popular pastime here. Israel has some of the most beautiful natural landscapes I have ever seen. Lonely Planet listed Israel’s Negev desert as a top destination in the world and I have to agree. Those rocky formations and reddish brown vistas sweeping down to the salty sheen of the Dead Sea are breathtaking.






Our hike through the Negev


I’ve also done an uphill hike in the northern Galilee region, up to the ruins of a crusader castle, surrounded by forested hills. That was another gorgeous one.





The view as we began our hike

Compared to these hikes, this flower hike was very tame, but it was nice to meet new people and see some pretty flowers. I met another UCLA alum, who then gave me a ride to a UCLA alumni event in Tel Aviv a few days after the hike. Connections! Bruins! All good stuff.


Care to share some of your favorite hiking experiences in Israel? Feel free to comment! I’d love to hear about some new ones to try!

The Many Colors of Israel

The other week was a hard one for me. Back in the States it is known as “Israel Apartheid Week” on many college campuses. At UCLA, Students for Justice in Palestine, a student group, usually sets up a giant cardboard wall on Bruin Walk, the main thoroughfare through campus, listing statistics on Palestinian deaths and talking to anyone who stops about Israel’s crimes against humanity. This year, being in Israel, I didn’t have to walk past that huge wall and all the hatred, misrepresentation, and outright lies it presented to me.

Instead, I was faced with a new Facebook group “UCLA Divest”, which served to rally students around a new divestment resolution it was putting to a vote with USAC, the UCLA student government.

This post is not about that resolution, or the Boycott, Divest, and Sanctions (BDS) movement. I posted on that group’s Facebook page, and my own, my opinions about that.

This post is about something a friend of mine, a strong supporter of UCLA Divest, said on her Facebook page that really hurt me. Well, honestly everything she said really hurt me, and I can’t see our friendship lasting if she believes those things about me and my people. But after USAC voted down, 7 to 5, the UCLA Divest resolution, she responded on Facebook by saying she was glad to see all the black and brown people supporting the resolution against all the “white Zionists” who opposed divestment from Israel.

“White Zionists.”

Apparently all Zionists are white. Everyone who supports Israel and thinks the Jewish people deserve a country of their own are white. Well I’m here to tell you what should come as no surprise—Zionists come in absolutely every color under the sun.

From what I could see of the discussion happening at UCLA around the resolution, pro-divestment people were talking about it in very racial terms. The black and brown people against the white “privilege-blinded” students. Divestment from Israel was linked with supporting minority rights of every kind. Linking Palestinian rights with other minority groups is not new, and I don’t think it’s uncalled for, as they are a minority whose rights need to be protected.

But by calling all Zionists white, this girl and everyone who agrees with her are negating the rich cultural heritage of Israel.

Israel is a country of immigrants. Yes, initially from Europe, especially after the Holocaust and the few, weak, Jewish survivors of concentration camps had nowhere else to go. But also from all over the Middle East, including Yemen, Morocco, Lebanon, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Algeria…basically anywhere you can think of. And let’s not forget the huge Ethiopian Jewish community of Israel.

Jews are found all over the world. And they are not just white.

Israel is full of restaurants selling food from all these various exotic places. There are Sephardi synagogues and a Sephardi religious political party (Shas). Just last Saturday night I was at a music venue in Talpiyot with some Israeli friends to listen to a Yemeni band (who were amazing, might I add. I hugely recommend Ensemble Yemeni to all—a personal endorsement by the way, not related to the Ministry).

Tonight after work I’m meeting up with a friend from my program to try an Ethiopian restaurant nearby that gets good reviews—my first taste of Ethiopian food!

Ethiopians celebrating the Sigd Holiday in Jerusalem last year

Everywhere I go, everything I do, everyone I meet and everything I see shows me how wrong these people in Los Angeles, and around the world are, who say things others tell them without reflecting on their veracity, or their true consequences.

The “whiteness” of Zionists is just one of the many points this girl made that are just flat-out wrong. Not arguable. Wrong.

When I lived in America and attended UCLA I was scared to speak up against these people with their big wall and their statistics and their passionate hatred. I thought—maybe I’m wrong and everything they’re saying is right. But after living in Israel, visiting the West Bank, speaking with Palestinians and Israelis in both places, politicians and civilians, I know that I have seen for myself. That my opinions are based on information much more real than their pamphlets. These people, the people shouting about racist Zionism, these people have nothing to do with the peace talks going on right now. They have nothing to do with the Palestinians I spoke to who just want to work and live their lives with their families.

And now Israel Apartheid Week is over for another year and the divestment resolution got voted down again at UCLA (although the University of California regents have already stated they will not divest from Israel, even though other campuses like UC Berkeley and UCSD have approved such resolutions). UCLA campus climate is in tatters after the vitriol of the 12-hour debate surrounding the resolution.

And I am off to enjoy some Ethiopian food before going to a free salsa dancing lesson, with my friends from all over the world. In Jerusalem. And that is all I have to say about that. 

What Does it Mean to Live in a Jewish State?

In my program we have exhaustively discussed the issue of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state. Does one preclude the other? And what does being a “Jewish state” mean? Well the balance between Jewish and democratic is still being worked out, by politicians in the Knesset and academics in think tanks and universities, by people protesting in the streets and by authors publishing insightful books. As for me, all I can tell you is what living here, in the only Jewish state, means to me.

It means on Fridays everyone is rushing through the streets trying to get errands done, clogging the grocery stores so I can’t find a cart and have to wait at the checkout for ages. The shuk is packed to the gills and I make sure to wear close-toed shoes because I know I will get stepped on, jostled, and ran over by little old ladies with heavily laden carts. There are people selling bouquets of flowers on street corners, and after 3 or 4 PM (depending on the time of year) a hush falls. No buses except the East Jerusalem lines. Which in turn means I am stuck in my apartment on French Hill, at least a 45 minute walk from the city center or a 40-50 shekel ($11-$14) taxi ride. Sometimes I stay in town to see a friend or attend a Shabbat dinner, and then take a taxi back.

It means Saturdays possess a calm that does not exist in America. They remind me of Sundays in France when I studied abroad there, when most shops close. Although it is even more intense in Israel, where public transportation does not work. Schedules are planned around Shabbat. It is a tangible presence in everyone’s lives, unlike in America when whole Shabbats would go by without me even realizing it.

It means starting in October every shop and bakery is overflowing with sweet donuts stuffed with chocolate, jelly, or jam and painted over with colorful icing. The supermarkets are full of festive chocolate packs and cheap Chanukiahs.

It means during Chanukah all the buses say “happy Hanukkah” across the front in Hebrew.

חנוכה שמח.

It means in January all the stores are full of dried fruit and on our program overnight our tour guide breaks out some Tu Bishvat hagaddahs, a platter of dried fruit and some wine to hold a brief Tu Bishvat seder (something I’ve never heard of anyone doing in America).

It means in late February I get an inter-office email advertising our office Purim party, with dancing, face painting, and an “imported bar”.

It means that when I find an English-speaking hiking group and I go on a hike with them, we chat about Shabbat services on the way home. I am told about a fun singing service in Baka and am invited to Shabbat dinner afterword.

It means when I stay at a hotel all the food is kosher and I taste some of the most amazing creamy desserts that I simply cannot believe are pareve (but they are!)

At work I am shown pictures from britahs and we discuss Pesach plans, as we get that week off. I am looking forward to experiencing Pesach in Israel, as it is a celebration of our long journey to Israel and I’ve always dreamed of spending it here.

It means that if I met someone here and chose to get married my fiancée and I would have to prove our Jewishness, and if we were unable to we would have to get married in another country. It means that if I chose to wear a kippah and a tallit, like I did at my Bat Mitzvah when I read Torah, I would get weird looks and maybe worse, depending on where I was.

It means seeing little boys in peyos and their fathers in black hats and mothers in head scarves or wigs walking to or from school or the grocery store as I ride my bus to and from work.

I love feeling like part of a community of Jews here. Knowing that everyone knows what holiday is coming up, that everyone shares the background and values that I grew up with, though with different flavors from all our many upbringings and traditions.

I don’t love feeling like only one kind of Judaism is accepted by the orthodox and ultra-orthodox community and by our government. I don’t love being unable to profit from my weekend unless I pay for multiple taxis (I am working an unpaid internship after all, I can’t exactly afford that).

I don’t love being unable to go to the Kotel and stand with my father, brothers, and male friends.

Hannukah with the Ministry of Aliyah and Immigrant Absorption

Maintaining a Jewish state and respecting everyone’s values and rights is a delicate balance and Israel has not yet found a perfect one. But I would rather suffer the inconveniences and fight to correct what I think should be corrected than lose that special sense of community that results from sharing some sufganiyot with my coworkers as we attend a Chanukah event for work.