July 1, 2004

Alison on Aliyah:  Letter to a Future Olah

You Rhode Islanders may not be aware of this, but you are about to be able to lay claim to your second – as far as I know – new immigrant to Israel, or olah chadasha, in ten months.  My guess is that she and I are the only immigrants from the state in quite some time.  A young girl named Becky Westerman is about to leave East Greenwich, the home she's known for most of her eighteen years, and begin a new life in Israel.  She will leave in a couple of weeks, so I thought it might be helpful to write her a little guide to help her out during her first period of klita, or absorption into Israeli society…

Dear Becky,

You are about to embark on the most amazing, unbelievable, terrifying, and life-altering experience in your life.  I know you are excited, and I'm glad you feel that way.  I know you think that everything is going to be perfect over here, and I do believe that you will find much of what you are looking for.  However, I want you to be aware of a few things, and to prepare yourself for some experiences you may not be expecting.

Be prepared for a very profound emotional experience in every sense.  You will feel tremendous joy and wonder, and you will also feel great sadness, pain, and even regret.  You will need to navigate your way through these emotions, and you will need to figure out which ones really matter, and which ones need to fuel your future decisions, and which ones are simply symptoms of a life changing and the anxiety that accompanies that change.

Be prepared to be yelled at, smiled at, cursed at, asked for a date, asked to borrow money, asked if you need money, be given a deal, and be taken advantage of… all by the same guy.

Be prepared for bureaucracy, scores of it and piles of papers and never-ending lines and thousands of questions.  Israel wants us here very badly, but they make it close to impossible for us to prove to them that we want to be here just as much.  Whenever you go to a government office, bring a book and a sandwich.

Be prepared to sweat buckets in the summer, freeze your tail off in the winter, and get eaten alive by bugs throughout it all.  Get to know and love the Israeli National Bird, the mosquito.  And yes, they can be that big.

Be prepared to fear.  You will fear things you have never thought twice of before, like bus stations, restaurants, and cafes.  You will fear people around you, if they look different or aren't wearing a Jewish star around their neck or are wearing a heavy coat.  Be prepared to start learning quickly who is to be feared and who is not.

Be prepared to make mistakes.  You will buy bleach that you thought was fabric softener, sour cream that you thought was cream cheese, electrical devices that you were assured would work on your system but never will.  Just like all of us before you and after you, you will confuse infuriatingly-similar-sounding Hebrew words with each other, like "to complain" and "to masturbate"; "pocket knife" and "foreskin"; "olive oil" and "penis oil."  Yes, we've all done it.  When the shopkeepers fall on the floor laughing, just grin and bear it.

Be prepared to become things you never thought you were.  Although you may never be conscious of it or understand it if you are, you will be a very special part of society here.  The Israeli people will recognize and treat you as a symbol of hope and strength.  They will ask you why you were "crazy" enough to come here, and what you could possibly love about this "screwed up" country, but they will love any answer you give them.  You will be their reminder of when they loved this country as much as you do, and you will give them strength to find that love again.

Be prepared to eat foods you never heard of and whose ingredients you will never know.  Be prepared to gain at least 10 pounds from all of it.

Most of all, Becky, I want you to be prepared to feel the fiercest love of your life.  You will love this country more than life itself, and you will love yourself for making this tremendously important decision.  It will be the hardest thing you have ever done, but on those days when you are frustrated and angry and tired and scared, remember that you are in the company of all of us.  We are a country of immigrants – we all came from somewhere else and we have all dealt with the same thing you will be experiencing.  Embrace us, and embrace your country, and you will not fail.