Misrad Hapanim: Diary of an Olah |
What qualifies someone as an “olah chadasha”? Is it deciding to move to Israel? Actually making the move? Living through culture shock, language barriers, and the absence of familiarity and family? Is it the struggle to build a life and a world out of pieces that don’t fit neatly together?
Or is it simply possessing a teudat olah, granted to you at long last by Misrad Hapnim?
The answer is elusive. I can, however, report that all these things have shaped my experience as an olah chadasha over the past two years and change. So rather than pretending I have a neat definition, this column is my attempt to keep honing the answer week by week – and, more importantly, to amuse you (and vindicate myself) with everyday tales of Israeli ineptitude, absurdity, and plain craziness.
Is this a comprehensive list of the struggles and triumphs that define the olah experience? Probably not. Is it even possible to explain it to the uninitiated? Unlikely. What I can do is offer a glimpse of what life in Israel feels like each week through the eyes of someone still learning how to live here – preferably without being yelled at by a bus driver, cashier, or government employee before noon.
This week was marked by what was meant to be a........