July 22, 2003

Alison on Aliyah: The Big Move 

 “Get copies of college transcript… Get passport pictures… Request copies of medical and dental records from all doctors… Schedule vet appointment for vaccine documentation…” 

My life has become a “to do” list.  An endless, 24-hour race to prepare myself for the biggest experience in my 26 years of life – making aliyah.  I entered Israel for the fifth and final time as a tourist this last February, and I plan to set foot in Jerusalem for the first time as an olah hadasha, or new immigrant, this coming September.  I currently have no idea where, or how, I’m going to live.  I don’t know who will allow me to rent an apartment with my dog in tow, and I don’t know when I will be able to begin the second of many needed rounds of intensive Hebrew courses, or ulpanim.  I don’t know if I’m going to need a refrigerator, or if I should ship my bed over.  I don’t know if I’ll need a car, or if my mom will slowly get used to the idea of me taking public transportation in Jerusalem (probably not!). 

I do know that I am passionately in love with Israel.  I know that I miss it every day, and that I love the person I am when I am there.  I know that it fills me with spirit, and spirituality, and a sense of freedom – as it simultaneously empties me of fear, and doubts, and the void that seems to accompany an American life of consumerism and financial obsession.  I also know that, professionally, Israel is the only place for me to succeed.  As a budding trauma psychologist, it makes no sense for me to educate myself further in this country.  Because I hope to do on-site trauma work and research, it is only in Israel that my skills, interests, and passions could truly be brought to fruition.  And I know that it is only when I breathe in the dry air of the Negev, or the cool breeze of Haifa, or the sweet taste of Jerusalem, that I am truly home, and at utter peace.

Hopefully, in a few months, by the end of this series of articles, I’ll know all the rest.  This is a sort of public journal for me, a way for me to process this experience and for you all to follow along on my journey.  I have been told by so many people in this community, “I wish I could do what you’re doing…”, “I almost made aliyah twenty years ago…”, “I am so jealous!”  And I, along with the editor of this newspaper, decided that you all might enjoy living vicariously through what is bound to be an exhilarating, terrifying, uncertain, life-altering experience.

So here goes.