This article will provide those of you thinking about making the trip to Israel a permanent one, in other words, those of you thinking of immigrating to Israel (or making ‘aliyah’, as it is known in Hebrew), some inspiration. Liza, originally from New York, tells us of her experiences and reasoning behind making the big move.
It all began with my friend Sheri. We were 13 years old and in eighth grade – both of us at the height of what we like to refer to as our geek years. Sheri and I talked about going away to summer camp. Actually, Sheri’s mother and I talked about Sheri and me going away to summer camp, while Sheri sulked in the corner. Sheri’s mother did a bit of research, and we soon found ourselves spending a month during the summer of 1983 just outside the idyllic little town of Barryville, New York, in a camp run by an American Zionist organization. After all, Sheri’s mother reasoned, if we were going away for the summer, it may as well be to some place Jewish.
To make a long story short, Sheri hated the camp and never went back. I, on the other hand, became willingly caught up in the whole Zionist-Jewish atmosphere, returning to the camp summer after summer and going to different events held throughout the year.
Yes, I was hooked. After years of trying to figure out my Jewish identity, I knew that I had finally found my niche. I was a “cultural” Jew. A Zionist. For me, being Jewish did not mean being religious, it meant history. It meant culture. Most of all, it meant Israel.
I came to Israel for the first time when I was 15 years old, on one of those air-conditioned bus tours with my family. Wandering through the streets of Tel Aviv, I knew that I’d eventually make my home here. It just felt right. I liked the idea of living in a Jewish state, and I liked the idea of living in a country that was small enough for anyone to be able to make a difference. I didn’t feel any of these things living in the United States, a country so large and diverse that I often felt lost and inconsequential.
My first trip to Israel changed my life. Nearly everything I did afterwards was connected to my desire to return to Israel. Throughout high school, I continued to be very active in Young Judaea, and spent a year between high school and college on a YJ-sponsored year program in Israel, improving my Hebrew, strengthening my understanding of the culture and cementing my relationship with the people and the land. As the program drew to a close in June, I was more certain than ever that I belonged here. That year was a turning point in my life. I never felt 100% settled in either country ever again. When I was in the United States, I longed to be in Israel, yet when I was in Israel I always felt that different aspects of the life I’d left behind in the US were tugging at my emotions.
The pull from Israel was even stronger during my college years, much to my parents’ dismay, as they remained convinced that it was only a phase, and that it would eventually pass. I spent four years at Boston University as an Israel activist, helping to found a pro-Israel student organization and volunteering my time at the Israel Aliyah Center and at the Israeli Consulate. I’ve got fond memories of my time in Boston, working together with other Israel activists to promote and defend Israel throughout the region, and feeling terribly important as I was invited to and attended local Jewish and pro-Israel events. In addition to my regular courses in Sociology (not a very practical degree to have in Israel, but interesting at the time nonetheless…), I also took Hebrew language and other Israel-related courses to help strengthen my resolve. Everyone who knew me knew that my life revolved around Israel. My Irish friend was impressed with my ability to get people to pay a few dollars for the opportunity to have trees planted in Israel, and Arab students I didn’t know would glare at me as I walked past.
In the summer of 1990, Saddam Hussein decided to invade Kuwait. In the winter of 1991, George Bush decided to invade Iraq. Our lives were consumed by what was happening in the Middle East, especially in Israel. Ten years later, I can still recall where I was and what I was doing when a friend told me that Tel Aviv had been attacked. I found myself spending as much time with my Israeli friends as possible, and was probably at the Israeli Consulate more frequently than I was in class. My heart was in Israel, and it ached with every missile that fell. It was during the Gulf War that I applied for and was accepted to another year-long program in Israel.
Two months after graduating, I once again found myself on a plane. My plan was to come for the year, and then go back to the US to work for a few years in order to gain work experience, before coming back to Israel to settle for good. Of course, life doesn’t always go according to plan…