Welcome home – it’s only been four decades
Thirty-eight years ago today, my late husband, two small children (and one more in utero), and I arrived in Israel. At the time, new olim were given a temporary identity card at the airport, and we effectively became citizens.
Well, at least some of us did; my husband had spent a year learning in Yeshiva here at a time when overseas students were given Israeli identity cards. When we arrived at the airport, we were told that since he had an ID card, he essentially had already made Aliyah and therefore could not make Aliyah again. (We were warned about this previously but were reassured by our Aliyah Shaliach that it would not be a problem, yeah right!). Not to worry, we were told by the clerk at the airport, you can go to Misrad Hapnim (Ministry of Interior) and sort it out.
In the meantime, however, Yakov, although here physically, was not officially in the country. And so, we arrived in Ra’anana with a temporary ID card listing me as the head of the household, accompanied only by two children. To get our assigned room at the Merkaz Klita, we needed to sneak Yakov past the “guard” (not exactly an armed Rambo type, rather a retired man who would have preferred to be asleep than welcome new families to the center. Within a few days, Yakov was actually allowed into the country as an oleh and was able to come out of his hiding place in the Merkaz Klita. The guard never once noticed. Welcome to Israel of 1988.
We found an apartment to rent in Ra’anana, a town that was already established (by American olim at the time) 66 years prior. Ok, it’s not brand new, it has a good reputation, it will be a smooth transition, so we thought. Our street (which we still live on) was centrally located, and the apartment is big. The sidewalks, however, did not exist. From our house to the main road, there was a street, but only a small stretch of sidewalk. The house next door had chickens living in the backyard (and even a goat at one point). Our three-story building was one of the tallest on the block, a nice new apartment building surrounded by one-story old kibbutz-style houses and citrus groves.
It was a surreal feeling; we came from the big city, the old country, and we were transported back in time to the days of the pioneers. One of the reasons that we took this apartment was that it had two major upgraded conveniences – a telephone line (a real rarity at the time) and a solar water heater. We thought we were moving to the height of luxury.
Today, as we celebrate our 38th aliyahversary, the street again is being transformed. Now, due to the urban renewal construction plans, three buildings have already been taken down to make room for new apartment buildings with underground parking and seriously luxurious apartments spread over ten floors. (Once again, half the street is missing sidewalks (they have been commandeered by the wrecking and construction crews). Once again, Ra’anana is changing its face and becoming more modern, more with the times, more civilized. Gone are the citrus groves, the chickens, and even the goats.
For four decades, I have watched this city and country grow up. Wow, what an incredible change. I have gone from sneaking my husband into the country and into our temporary living quarters at the absorption center to watching new high-rise buildings being built on practically every corner. I have seen the country go from early provincial to super high tech – for good and for bad. My children, although they have all maintained their English language skills, are completely Israeli – and I would not have it any other way.
It’s been 38 years – but I am home.