[img]96|left|Shachar||no_popup[/img]Dateline Jerusalem — Two years, four months, two weeks, two days.
But who is counting?
Anyone taking bets on how long I would be staying in Israel would have lost their money.
Of course it helped that Israel reminded me of California (no wonder so many Israelis feel comfortable in the San Fernando Valley area of Los Angeles), and that I had a job from almost the time I arrived.
Considering life is so much more difficult, any American who makes aliyah must really want to be here.
My reason…it is home.
The goosebumps I get on my arms and the tears in my eyes when I just think of being in the land given to my ancestors by Hashem (G-d) is an indescribable feeling.
Although many Israelis claim they cannot speak English, most understand it.
The English language is part of the Israeli school curriculum and the Bagrut (the exam all must take when graduating high school).
Unfortunately for me, because I did not avail myself of the five- month, five days a week, five hours a day Ulpan language school, I never learned Hebrew.
My Hands Speak for Me
My attempts at self-study have been less than successful. But, I get by.
I play “Charades” with my hands, and people understand me.
My biggest problem, however, is when I receive a bill or official document, or a notice in my apartment building. I can sound out the Hebrew letters, and I recognize some words. But I am at a loss when it comes to reading anything of significance.
A pretty sad state of affairs for someone who has been living here for over two years.
Sometimes I miss the things I used to take for granted. I have been in some of the most beautiful and expensive high-rise apartments and private villas, and yet no one seems to have a garbage disposal in their modern European kitchens. They have granite counter tops, stainless steel sinks and double drawer dishwashers.
Of course, the only dishwasher in my dump of an apartment is me. It just does not make sense to try to scrape dishes clean only to have some remaining particles of food and soup ingredients clog up your drain because there is no garbage disposal.
Wall-to-wall carpeting is also non-existent. Tile floors abound. They are great for the hot and humid summers, but not winter. Some people claim mopping floors is easier than using a vacuum. I disagree, especially when the floor mops here are nothing more than a long handled squeegee to push the water down the door-less shower or a “mop” wrapped in thick towels which takes an art to maneuver.
I also miss white albacore tuna, beef hot dogs and delicatessen glatt kosher corned beef on corn rye. Tuna is only the chunk light kind. Hot dogs are made of chicken. As for corned beef, it is available but I had to travel to Jerusalem to get it.
I have yet to find a deli-style fresh corn rye. But these are my only cravings because Israel has everything else. I might not know what something is called in Hebrew, but I have learned that brisket is #3, and the closest thing to prime rib is entrecote steak.
Most of all, I miss my family and friends, many who are afraid to come to this “war zone.”
I feel safer here in Israel than I did in the US.
Where else in the world can a woman or child walk the streets alone day or night and not have to worry about rape or molestation?
As for terror bus bombings, those have become extinct since the building of the “separation fence/wall.”
Shalom (hello, goodbye, peace).
L'hitraot. Shachar.
Shachar is the Hebrew name of a California-based attorney and former Los Angeles County deputy sheriff who moved to Israel two years ago.
