November 21, 2003

Alison on Aliyah:  Change is happening…

             They say change happens so slowly and constantly that you rarely see it happening until it’s already complete.  I’ve begun to notice a few little things about myself that are significantly different from who I was six weeks ago.  Well, to be honest, I didn’t notice them by myself.  The General Assembly was last week, and all the United Jewish Communities Solidarity Missions were here in Jerusalem, among them many of my good friends from Rhode Island.  I spent the weekend with one of my best friends, and I saw, mirrored in his eyes, how much I’ve changed already.

            On the way home from meeting the group at the airport, I was in a taxi with about six other people, none of whom spoke Hebrew.  When the driver asked each person which neighborhood and which street he or she lived on, they didn’t understand and weren’t able to answer.  All of a sudden, I became the translator for the group!  Me – the same person who, six weeks before, was in a taxi going from the airport to my new home, and was barely able to muster up the words to ask the driver to close the window.  While in a taxi the next night with my friend, I was bantering back and forth with the driver, talking about the political situation in Israel and also trying to barter him down on the price – all while my friend tried to catch a word or two.

            I also noticed the difference in mentality between someone who is visiting here and someone who is living here.  He was willing to take cabs anywhere, especially if it got us to our destination faster.  I, on the other hand, have already worn a path with my sneakers through the length and width of the city center and many of its surrounding neighborhoods.  A half-hour walk is nothing!, I kept thinking, but I remembered how much simpler a cab seemed to me when I first arrived here.  I also remembered how, in Providence, just two months ago, tucked safely behind the steering wheel of my beloved Honda Accord, even a walk down the street to the convenience store seemed terribly inconvenient.

            I have already begun to read and be able to decipher the Hebrew subtitles when I watch television, especially when it is a familiar American show.  Although I cannot always catch everything, I enjoy comparing what I hear to what I read, and trying to figure out the words I don’t know.  I can have rather lengthy conversations in Hebrew with most people I meet now, and when I walk through Machane Yehuda, the open-air market near my house, many of the shopkeepers smile and wave to me.  They ask me how my absorption is going, and whether my dog has fully adjusted yet.  They know I am trying desperately to become fluent in Hebrew, so they never speak English with me even though they are able to and want to practice their own skills.

            Three months ago, I was working for ten dollars an hour and still having difficulty making ends meet.  Today, I was offered a baby-sitting job for 25 shekels (approximately $5.50) an hour, and I was overjoyed – it was a little over a dollar more than most of the jobs I’ve had already.  I have used the same hair care products for the past ten years, and have always been deathly afraid of altering my hair procedure even slightly, for fear of causing my curly hair to lose its hold and shine.  Today, my bathroom is littered with conditioner bottles of all kinds and sizes, most of them nearly full.  I’ve been having difficulty finding a way to make my often-frizzy hair adjust to the climate here, and all my new immigrant friends have all recommended different brands.  In the states, my refrigerator and cupboards were overflowing with pre-packaged meals and junk foods loaded with preservatives.  I always found American produce so mournfully inadequate compared to the quality in Israel, that I simply stopped eating healthy.  Here in my refrigerator in Jerusalem, one can only see fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, avocados, and peppers, along with a mango or kiwi thrown in for color.

            I’ve become used to having to pay a significant amount for every outgoing call I make, whether it be on my home or cell phone, but enjoying totally free, unlimited incoming calls.  I sigh in resignation every time I see the endless fees I have been charged for nearly every transaction at my bank – talking to a teller, taking out money, putting in money, changing dollars to shekels, changing shekels to dollars.. believe me, the list goes on and on.  I am learning how to use my kerosene heater, even while some part of me fears I will asphyxiate from the fumes while I sleep.  Most of all, I am learning how to be Israeli.. slowly, slowly, but more and more every day.  I like the person I am becoming, even though I can’t always see the process until it has already occurred.