The long awaited blog entry has arrived - Part Deux of my aliyah!
So, when we left off about two weeks ago, I was about to get off the plane. Landing was a high because it truly solidified the fact that we were on the ground and here to stay. The teenagers (really young adults in their mid-twenties who were going to ulpan and reminded me of myself when I spent my freshman year of college in Bar Ilan University) went pretty crazy with their clapping and hooting. El Al played some fun songs over the intercom, including one on a Nefesh B'Nefesh video that gets me every time, with the words "I can hear my homeland calling me..." It was true - we were finally home.
That is, until Security finished the process of going through the plane and we were given the okay to leave. In the meantime, I occupied myself by talking to the Israeli guy next to me, who had been curiously quiet the entire flight. He finally started a conversation and I was able to discern that he was an El-Al air marshall, so it was understandable that he did not initiate a scintillating dialogue whilst we were in the air. (Although I still was a bit preturbed - I mean, the security of the plane? Or me? How was I supposed to feel when my seatmate showed no interest in me? Priorities, people!) He made it up to me by saying that he had a feeling the Israeli dudes would be quite happy to welcome me with open arms, since I have the look they so enjoy (i.e. I am a blondini). That mollified me somewhat and in any case, I was anxious to get off the Big Bird, otherwise known as the plane.
Being in business class (ahem, in case you had forgotten), I was able to disembark before the rest of the plebians. Trying not to draw undue attention to myself, I waited until two other women got up to leave, and then walked down the stairs with them. Turns out they were members of the press, so I was the first person to get off the plane. Typical! I can never do anything halfway, even when I want to just blend in. Oh the drama! There was a whole crowd of Israeli paparazzi documenting our arrival, and when I went to kiss the ground (kinda maudlin but really a genuine move on my part), they went crazy taking pictures. The press asked me to do it again a few times! I obliged but wish the whole thing had been a little less packaged. (Of course, one of the pics of me kissing the tarmac made it onto the Nefesh B'Nefesh video. Shandeh!)
Never-you-mind, a bunch of other olim got off the plane and the press jumped all over them. I was able to slip into a waiting bus, which was taking all of the olim in shifts to the old terminal in Ben Gurion airport. This terminal is no longer in use but is outside and therefore was able to accomodate the hundreds of well-wishers that had come from all over Israel to sing, wave flags and dance with us as we walked through the 'concrete carpet' to the airport entrance. It was an amazing experience I will never forget, and it was so nice to bask in their appreciation for our coming to be a part of the country. There were all kinds of people - older rabbis, soldiers, girls from seminaries that were dancing in silly but awesome circles.
And let's not forget who else had come - my good friend Leron and my mother's best friend from her youth, Tova!! I was so excited to be reunited with them and be greeted by familiar faces. It's not that I was in a foreign country, since I have been to Israel many times throughout my life, know the terrain (if you will) and speak the language, but this was the first time arriving for good - not as a tourist or a student, but rather a true resident that was going to have to make my way economically and socially, for real.
Nefesh B'Nefesh then had a lovely arrival ceremony, and one of the speakers was Natan Sharansky, the former Soviet refusenik who was imprisoned by the Communist government in 1977 and finally released to Israel in 1986. (He is no wimp.) He spoke really well and told us how he had arrived on aliyah: One morning he was in his prison cell, and suddenly he was freed and in the Old City by the evening. He said it was like going from Hell to Heaven in one day; needless to say, the only place to go from Heaven is down. However, he stated that while he is no longer on the initial high, the decades he has spent in Israel have still been Heaven. His speech gave me the chills and almost mitigated my disappointment when I saw there was no more free slushy coffee (should have gone for it when I first arrived - again, priorities!!).
After the ceremony, I said goodbye to Tova (I would be joining her later at her family's house in Ashkelon, where I would be staying temporarily) and Leron (we would be hanging out alot in the next few weeks, as detailed in this blog). I joined all the other olim as we were shepherded upstairs for some necessary documentation, where I got yelled at by an official who seemed a little flustered by all of the hullaballoo. It was okay - it was my first bureaucratic hurdle in Israel, so mazal tov!
Having finally secured the necessary documents, it was time to take a taxi onto Israeli soil and head to Ashkelon. Struggling with my ridiculous luggage, I went to get my chariot, thoughtfully provided by the Israeli government and Nefesh B'Nefesh at no charge. I thought it would be a breeze after everything else.
I was quite wrong - they first tried to put me and this other guy into this tiny VW bug. Poor guy - he was headed to an Absorption Center with one tiny backpack and had to be paired with the likes of me. The taxi driver went kind of ballastic when he saw my luggage and tried to tie two of my overstuffed duffle bags to the roof rack with some puny twine - nevermind that it was raining. I patently refused to allow this to go down and told Nefesh B'Nefesh they had to get us a bigger cab, whereupon they invited a third (ultra Orthodox) guy to join us in the taxi. Made total sense.
At this point the whole thing was comical, so I was happy to go along with the comedy when they picked the most insane dude in all of Israel to drive the three of us in (mercifully) a van. He sang along with the radio in a loud, hilarious voice and then put on a CD with the oddest song I have ever heard. It went something like this:
Older man's voice: Perach Perach! (Flower Flower! - some term of endearment)
Younger boy's voice (obviously fake): Eema Eema! Ani lo rotzeh la'azov et Yisrael, ani ohev et zeh poe! (Translation: Mommy, mommy! I don't want to leave Israel, I like it here!)
Mommy: LO!! (NO!!)
Then the kid started singing along with a Mizrachi beat: "Hayeenu ki'cholmim!" (We were like dreamers!)
I lurved the song! I was obsessed! I'm still obsessed! I have since asked every Israeli I meet if they have heard of it, so I can get it on my iPod and include it in every party playlist going forward, but sadly no one seems to know what I'm talking about and looks at me like I'm cuckoo. Tragic.
Anyhoo, during the ride, the taxi driver reminded me that they do in fact have food in Israel, a sly allusion to the fact that I had overpacked, at which point I informed him that I had a dead body in there. He then proceeded to have a fake converasation with the Mishtarah (Police) regarding the Rotzechet (Murderess) in his cab, and I just cracked up. The two other poor dudes, who didn't understand a word of Hebrew, looked on in bewilderment.
After the uneventful (HA!) journey, we finally arrived in Ashkelon, and after calling Tova on the phone to get directions, since we (of course) got lost, I arrived at her house. The bags were shlepped in after backbreaking labor and I unlocked the door...my (not Pee Wee's) Big Adventure had begun...
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