Passover: Asher's first trip to the beach in Ashdod, Israel.
Everything in flux.
We fly in a few days from Tel Aviv to New York to Omaha. We'll drive on to Lincoln and then after a few days of catching up and seeing how things are with my father we'll be on to Denver.
Our earthly belongings are on a barge headed toward the U.S., arriving with luck on May 5. Anyone have $3,500 I can have? The worst that could happen is that we can't pay for the container and our goods will end up on that shipping-container wars show. I'd love for the Israelis to bid and win our seforim (religious books).
The past few weeks have involved friends, neighbors, and complete strangers moving in and out of our house buying and taking things, from the most trivial of bunny rabbit ears to the more expensive closets and appliances. Never fear, my purple KitchenAid is staying in Israel.
I'm coming back for it.
I've been amazed at the chutzpah of some people in the buying-and-selling process. Asking for discounts on our already half-priced items, plus delivery on the back of Mr. T. Sigh. In the U.S. when I moved and sold everything it went quickly, people came promptly, they took things apart and moved them themselves. It was a completely different experience.
Why is Israel so desperate?
I keep looking off the balcony at the view we have into the valley and on to Beitar and Tzur Hadassah. I'm going to miss that view. I'm going to miss a lot about Israel while we're away. I don't think I was here long enough to really adopt the Israeli mentality or mannerisms. My Hebrew isn't good because I don't use it much, and I can't yet argue on the phone with the utility company in the way that accomplishes anything. I'm too patient at government offices.
I hate the chutzpah; I'll miss the chutzpah.
If anything, Israel reminds me of the person I am, the unchanging person I am at the core. Simple (my Nebraska roots and an ode to my father), slow, forgiving, patient to a fault. But also how my American sensibilities have created expectations that I can't seem to outgrow, expectations that might take me years once we return to Israel to really change. That I wish will someday change. Filtered water, a dryer, a bureaucracy that makes sense, a conscious of health (Bamba, Bamba, Bamba), kale, inexpensive convenience health foods, shaving cream, razors that don't cost a bajillion dollars, anything that doesn't cost a bajillion dollars. I'm too used to the convenience of stores where I can get high quality products for low prices. That's an expectation that probably will get worse as I go back to America.
If wishes were fishes ...
It isn't going to be easy. None of it is easy. The reasons we're going to the U.S. aren't easy. But this isn't yeridah (the opposite of aliyah), it isn't running away from anything. If anything, we're running toward something. We're running in the direction of peace, health, happiness.
After all, everything comes from HaShem.