[img]96|left|Shachar||no_popup[/img]Dateline Jerusalem — This week I celebrate my third anniversary in Israel. “Mazal tov” and “congratulations” are in order.

I am no longer an “olah chadishah” (new immigrant).

It is hard to believe that I made “aliyah” three years ago. Those of you who doubted I would last three months, let alone three years, must be in shock.

As an oldtimer, I am no longer eligible to get my driver's license without going through an intensive, and expensive, driver's training course. But, I have had no desire to drive a vehicle since I have been here. I take buses, trains, taxis, or walk. What I save with the cost of a vehicle (almost doubled because of all the taxes added on), gasoline (about double what you pay in the States), insurance, maintenance and parking fees, I figure I can splurge on an occasional taxi.

Public transportation is great (except that the bus yesterday morning was late. So my connections were off, and the train was delayed last night with electrical problems. The lights kept going on and off. Eventually, we had to wait for some repairs). I do a lot of walking in my town. Good exercise and an opportunity to discover the area. Besides, there are only two places in the world that I refuse to drive, Israel and New York. I do not know what it is, but the drivers here and in New York scare me.

I will no longer be eligible for “new immigrant” discounts on my paycheck. That means payroll taxes will hit me harder. But, considering I make slave wages anyway, how much worse can it get? I am now netting a little more than what I made when I was on unemployment between jobs. I already took over $1000/month reduction in pay when I got my current job, but I am not complaining. At least I have a job! I am sure there are other benefits that I no longer will be eligible for, but since I have yet to avail myself of them, I doubt if I will miss them.

Surveying the Transformations

How have things changed for me in the last three years? Initially, most people had accepted the fact that I could not speak or understand Hebrew because I was a new immigrant. But now, wherever I go I am recognized after three years. Whether they are strangers or friends, people comment or look at me like I am some kind of moron. I am. When I try to speak, my pronunciation is so bad that people ask me to speak in English instead of Hebrew because they do not understand what I am trying to say. It is a good thing I belong to an “Anglo” synagogue. Although the services are in Hebrew, the members are English-speaking, from the U.S., England, Australia, Scotland, Canada and South Africa. Its location is perfect, across the street from my apartment.

Even if I had completed the free Ulpan language school of classes 5 hours/day, 5 days/week, for 5 months available for new immigrants in their first 1 1/2 years in Israel, statistics show that most people over 40 will graduate Ulpan and still be illiterate. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately (I haven't quite decided as there are pros and cons), I got a job within the first three weeks of arriving in Israel. I was able to support myself instead of using up my savings. However, with over four hours of daily travel time for my job, and working a full day and occasional overtime, I had no time to attend Ulpan.

The Marvels of ‘Protexia’

The other day I received an Israeli government survey in Hebrew that had one line in English stating that I can request the survey in English if I call a certain number. I called, but an answering machine came on with only a Hebrew message. Needless to say, I was unable to understand it. I figure that if they want the survey filled out, they can either answer the phone with a live person or have a message in English, too. That is another way things have changed for me in the last three years. I have become more “Israeli” in my attitude.

I have become resigned to the fact that “protexia” is a part of Israeli life. Yet I am older and wiser and now realize it is no different than in the States where “who you know” and nepotism also exist, just not as blatantly as it is in Israel. For example, here a male job applicant will be told up front that there are 3000 applicants for 30 positions, but that 10 of those positions must be filled by people with protexia, 10 must be filled by people who have relatives on the job, and the remaining 10 positions must have 6 positions filled by women. I really feel sorry for men with no connections here.

I have become resigned to the fact that everything here is one big bureaucracy, But, my experiences these last 3 years have taught me that my attitude and behavior can get me through the bureaucratic maze. I have learned when to be nice and patient and when to be aggressive and rude. But I find a smile and “toda raba” (thank you very much) goes a long way in getting me what I want from the bureaucracy.

Mostly, I look at the big picture and thank Hashem (G-d) for giving me the opportunity to live in this great country. For no matter what I go through here, just being here has made all the difference in the world for me. I am calm in the face of danger, relaxed when I should be nervous, and I believe it is because I feel Hashem's presence at all times. I get shivers and goosebumps when I go to the Kotel ( also known as the Western or Wailing Wall), which is Judaism's holiest site, the last standing remnant of the Holy Temple. I get tears in my eyes when I hear of Israeli victims of terror and rockets, but know that the casualty rate is relatively small compared to that of Israel's enemies because Hashem is looking out for us. And, although there is terrorism and Israel's very existence is at stake in these times when terror and lies are rewarded and the true victims are victimized further by the media and Jew-hating nations of the world, I have faith in Hashem.

Please join me in celebrating my three wonderful years of living in Israel. Come visit and see for yourselves the physical beauty of the country and the inner beauty of the people from all over the world who make up the Israeli population.

L'hitraot. Shachar

Shachar is the Hebrew name of a California-based attorney and former Los Angeles County deputy sheriff who moved to Israel three years ago.