Israel is Absorbing Me Faster than I’m Absorbing Israel 

About two months ago, my wife and I made one of the most consequential decisions in our forty-four years of marriage: we made Aliyah. Soon after we arrived, we met with an advisor from the Ministry of Absorption (משרד הקליטה) to finalize some Aliyah-related details. Reflecting on the past two months, I believe the government should consider renaming the Ministry of Absorption. I would rename it the Ministry for Being Absorbed because, in the brief time that we’ve been Israeli citizens, I feel Israel is absorbing me faster than I’m absorbing Israel. I feel Israel flowing through me, entering my heart, body, and soul. 

We are learning to adapt to the differences in cultural norms. For example, we quickly realized how challenging it was to open a bank account and apply for an Israeli credit card. We needed an Israeli credit card to activate our government health insurance. Our friends recommended a nearby bank, but when we tried to open an account and apply for a credit card, we learned that only the main branch works with Olim.  

The next day, we went to the main branch and found an account manager who works with Olim. We explained why we needed to open an account immediately, to which he angrily replied he was so busy with Olim that he could help us in three weeks. Fortunately, I’ve learned to view words like “no,” “I can’t,” or “it’s not my problem” as invitations to negotiate for what I need. I summoned my “Philly attitude,” which had atrophied from living in Minnesota for about forty years, and negotiated an appointment for the next day. 

In this sense, naming the office in charge of Olim the Ministry of Absorption was accurate. From what I thought would be a simple bank interaction, I realized how much I must absorb about Israeli life. But more than absorbing Israel, Israel is rapidly absorbing me. Here are a few illustrations that hopefully convey what I mean by saying, “Israel is absorbing me:” 

• Feeling the intensity of life: Life’s joys are higher, and sorrows are deeper. We live in Ba’ka, the Goldberg-Polins’ neighborhood. Several of my friends are very close to the Goldberg-Polins and have supported them throughout their horrific ordeal. I don’t personally know the Goldberg-Polins, but when the news about the brutal murder of their son, Hersh, z’l, broke, my wife and I reacted like other Israelis with whom I spoke. We felt like our souls were crushed. Hersh and the murder of the other five beautiful young people by Hamas hit the entire country hard, but even more so in our Ba’aka neighborhood. That’s because we are all one big extended family. 

• Finding renewed or new purpose: People our age (seniors) who make Aliyah don’t move to Israel to play golf but to contribute to Israel. Making sandwiches for displaced Israeli children who can’t return to their homes up North, teaching English to soldiers or children of soldiers, volunteering in a university lab to mentor younger colleagues, or becoming certified to teach in a school – I haven’t invented these diverse ways of volunteering and know people who have undertaken these commitments. My experience is that people who make Aliyah, like the root meaning of the word,” עלה”, seeking to elevate their life’s purpose. 

• Being bold: Before we made Aliyah, some friends looked at us with raised eyebrows when we told them we were moving to Israel. Really? During a war? Now that we’re here, we get thanks from the Israelis for making a bold move at this stage of life, at this time in Israel’s history. In speaking with other Olim, when we claim that there’s no place safer for Jews than Israel, we don’t have to explain ourselves because they feel the same way. 

• Meeting extraordinary people is routine: A few years ago, I told a good friend that my conversations with Israelis are usually thought-provoking. He replied, “Hayim, you have to be a little crazy to live here, so of course, you’ll find people more interesting here than in the United States.” Our friends have thoughtfully invited us to Shabbat meals with other guests we don’t know. We then invited our new acquaintances to our home for Shabbat. Without fail, after a few minutes of Jewish geography, we’ve found overlapping social connections that add a layer to what we already share: an unwavering love for Israel. 

We’ve visited Israel at least forty times in the past fourteen years. My wife quipped that we know much about being frequent visitors but little about being citizens. Over time, we’ll absorb knowledge and experiences that will deepen our understanding of Israel. But being absorbed by Israel—that process is well underway.