Deciding to Make Aliyah.

The picture is of one of the reasons it was hard to leave. I miss Grae!

As soon as I decided that I wanted to make Aliyah (Jew returning to the homeland of Israel), I asked first if I could bring my cats, and then if there was a quarantine period. The answers were yes, and no. So I began the long process of agonizing paperwork that makes Aliyah possible.

Yes, Israel wants Jews to return to the homeland. But, since they offer certain benefits (health insurance, no import taxes for 3 years, and a small monthly stipend, they really make you prove that you are worthy. And Jewish.

Thankfully, I had joined, though seldom attended, a synagogue in Charleston, South Carolina, where I was living at the time. I contacted the Rabbi there, explaining that I planned to make Aliyah, and I needed a letter from him, stating that I am indeed Jewish, born to a Jewish mother, and was a member "in good standing" at the synagogue. I wondered to myself what it took to be a member in bad standing, since I went to services only once, and stopped because everyone was trying to set me up with a man in his 50's who had 2 daughters in college. And he was not attractive. And he was a convert. Converts know everything, because they HAVE to study to be Jewish. I was born to it, and dropped out of Hebrew school while still too young to have learned Hebrew (in retrospect, a stupid move on my part). I am nonetheless Jewish, because my Mom is. So it goes.

The Rabbi happily agreed to write the necessary letter. I then filled out an application that was about 15 pages long, and included an essay question on why I wanted to live in Israel. I emailed it all, along with my CV, a blood sample, and two strands of hair (slight exaggeration) to get "approval" to move to Israel.

Then I flew to Boston to visit my friend Melissa and go to the Aliyah Center there, to find out what else needed to be done, and to open a file there, without which I would receive none of the benefits (called an "absorption basket"). Melissa, thinking I was crazy for wanting to move to the Middle East, nonetheless went with me to my appointment with Tova, the Shaliach in Boston. We started my file and I felt like I was on my way.

I went up to Maine with Melissa. We both grew up there, though we didn't meet until our early 20s, when we worked in the same restaurant in South Portland, Maine.

While on that trip, I broke the news to my friends that I wanted to move to Israel. A few of them tried to talk me out of it. Melissa went so far as to try to fix me up with a man she works with who happens to have a Jewish last name, though he is not Jewish, since his mother is not.

When I told my friends at Masters Studios, where I took karate, kung fu, and tai chi, most of them were supportive, but there were a few "I'll believe it when I see it" people, who I wanted to drop-kick.

Before I decided where to move, though, I knew I had to make a trip to Israel to see what areas of the country felt best. I knew it was either Tel Aviv or nothing, since I require a secular city. I have never been religious, never kept kosher, and have 5 tattoos (strictly forbidden, according to Jewish law).

So I began planning my "pilot trip" to Tel Aviv...