In a lifetime of mistakes, it is challenging to rank the worst of them, but I'm fairly confident at this point that making aliyah sits high on the list. I'm still trying to figure out the positive elements of this situation. Other than abstract notions that border on cliches, like this is your home, you're fulfilling a mitzvah, aliyah seems to have worsened my life situation in every way. As much time as I spent at work in New York, now, with the commute, I spend even more. I haven't seen my children in four days. Well, I see them sleeping at night when I come home and in the morning when I leave. I wouldn't call that quality time.
Our neighbors - and there's only one other apartment on our floor - don't say hello. Nobody in the building has ever invited us over. Even the shul I have attended for four months has proven itself inhospitable. One positive thing I'll say about the shul is that they do offer a few classes at times that I can attend, unlike most of the shuls which strangely offer classes mostly in the daytime during work hours. However, the rabbi just announced to us that he doesn't generally enjoy giving classes. I guess he just puts up with us.
The living conditions of Israel are far worse than America. It's just so beat here with the cruddy buildings and train seats, the litter on the streets, the pigeon crap everywhere, the cockroaches that plague our kitchen. There's one tiny lending library with a few shelves of old donated books - not that I would have the slightest chance to visit during the few odd hours when they are open. The shul has maybe a dozen English books. The stores are just devoid of goods. It's mostly crap on the shelves. I never was much of a shopper but now I don't even try to buy anything ever.
Medical care is weak. The newspapers are lame and use poor English grammar.
Yet, I feel this obligation to just love living in Israel, that there's something mysteriously wrong with me if I don't. What I feel rather is a low grade nausea most of the day and night. I take the feeling for granted at this point, meaning I'm practically used to it. But now and again it hits me, I'm miserable here.
You'd hope that some kind of vibrant religious life makes up for all this garbage but the religious life is less vibrant. There's so little going on, speakers, classes, events, kiddushes, vorts. I remember the days when occasionally I had somewhere to go. Now it's just nothing and more nothing.
And then there's the Israelis. Unfortunately, the country is just chock full of them. Dealing with Israelis is one long exercise in looking away. On the rare occasion when an Israeli is pleasant with me or warm or engaging in any measure I'm taken aback. It's that rare. And you think, this isn't going to last more than 3 seconds so brace yourself for the next outburst, shove, cold shoulder, or glare.
And did I mention that two more Jews were murdered today, or that the Israeli Security Agency is torturing two teenage Jewish boys with the consent of our famous Prime Minister?
I have known some disappointments in my life. This one is as bad as any of them. I don't know what to make of the aliyahniks, the sales team from hell that actually raves about this place and pushes others to come. I'm not sure that these people are actually human. They might be apparitions.
Speaking of apparitions, maybe I'm in a bad dream. I recall an episode of Monty Python where a prisoner in a Russian jail falls asleep and dreams that he's back home in Britain with his mother. "Mother," he says, "I had a dream that I was in a Russian prison cell." "No, my son," she says. "This is the dream. You really are in that cell."
Our neighbors - and there's only one other apartment on our floor - don't say hello. Nobody in the building has ever invited us over. Even the shul I have attended for four months has proven itself inhospitable. One positive thing I'll say about the shul is that they do offer a few classes at times that I can attend, unlike most of the shuls which strangely offer classes mostly in the daytime during work hours. However, the rabbi just announced to us that he doesn't generally enjoy giving classes. I guess he just puts up with us.
The living conditions of Israel are far worse than America. It's just so beat here with the cruddy buildings and train seats, the litter on the streets, the pigeon crap everywhere, the cockroaches that plague our kitchen. There's one tiny lending library with a few shelves of old donated books - not that I would have the slightest chance to visit during the few odd hours when they are open. The shul has maybe a dozen English books. The stores are just devoid of goods. It's mostly crap on the shelves. I never was much of a shopper but now I don't even try to buy anything ever.
Medical care is weak. The newspapers are lame and use poor English grammar.
Yet, I feel this obligation to just love living in Israel, that there's something mysteriously wrong with me if I don't. What I feel rather is a low grade nausea most of the day and night. I take the feeling for granted at this point, meaning I'm practically used to it. But now and again it hits me, I'm miserable here.
You'd hope that some kind of vibrant religious life makes up for all this garbage but the religious life is less vibrant. There's so little going on, speakers, classes, events, kiddushes, vorts. I remember the days when occasionally I had somewhere to go. Now it's just nothing and more nothing.
And then there's the Israelis. Unfortunately, the country is just chock full of them. Dealing with Israelis is one long exercise in looking away. On the rare occasion when an Israeli is pleasant with me or warm or engaging in any measure I'm taken aback. It's that rare. And you think, this isn't going to last more than 3 seconds so brace yourself for the next outburst, shove, cold shoulder, or glare.
And did I mention that two more Jews were murdered today, or that the Israeli Security Agency is torturing two teenage Jewish boys with the consent of our famous Prime Minister?
I have known some disappointments in my life. This one is as bad as any of them. I don't know what to make of the aliyahniks, the sales team from hell that actually raves about this place and pushes others to come. I'm not sure that these people are actually human. They might be apparitions.
Speaking of apparitions, maybe I'm in a bad dream. I recall an episode of Monty Python where a prisoner in a Russian jail falls asleep and dreams that he's back home in Britain with his mother. "Mother," he says, "I had a dream that I was in a Russian prison cell." "No, my son," she says. "This is the dream. You really are in that cell."
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