Inviting you to read on...

INVITATION: to read and enjoy

PURPOSE: to strengthen your aliya plans

WARNING: they might just make you cry

For three "pluus" years I shared many of the experiences of our aliya. Those were days when I had the luxury of time and a lack of income. Now that we are working on building a business, my time is no longer free and abundant, so I cannot keep up these missives. Hopefully we'll actually make some money, be able to hire one of you to assist us, and I'll get back to it someday.

Meanwhile, I hope you'll really DO it: COME HOME SOON Start your journey here->

...

The Unpredictability of Reliability

B"H

28thElul 5770
September 7, 2010


Dear Friends and Family,

With Rosh Hashana no longer just around the corner, but looming right before us, the business of taking stock of ourselves is unavoidable. Shiurim are filled to capacity and now everyone-Asheknazim and Sephardim- is getting up early for Slichos. The Old City streets are flowing at all hours with every kind of Jew visiting their Father at the holy Kotel, seeking forgiveness and a year in which their heartfelt prayers will be answered.

With so many people out and about, I’m sure to run into someone I haven’t seen in a while. So a chance meeting with Naomi last Shabbat was no surprise. Neither was the content of our conversation. After a year here, she’s longing for the more predictable life and reliable parnassa, income, she remembered having in America. And frankly I was sympathetic. She is working very hard and seeing progress, but it’s not going as well as she’d planned.

Not surprising at all. In Israel, most things having to do with this material world are riddled with confusion and difficulty. It’s hard to get around, it’s hard to find your place, and it’s hard to make a living. They tell you this all pre-aliya, but still, we olim usually get hit with setbacks we did not envision. More often than not, the difficulties are financial.

In Israel, earning a livelihood has its own set of rules. “Survival without begging, that is considered parnassa here,” says Rabbi Zev Leff. Pretty shocking isn’t it? But we are all beggars in a sense, begging Hashem for everything we feel we need, including parnassa.

I didn’t write much about our own parnassa problems because the point of these letters is to feed your natural yearning to be here. I wanted to be positive and you’d probably never believe me for one moment ever again if I told you that worrying about, and struggling for parnassa is a positive thing.

But it truly has been. It has strengthened our emuna and opened in us wells of gratitude. It has brought Hashem into our lives in a constant way that we never imagined possible.

No matter what we perceive of our effort, He really IS running the world. He is the One Who gave us a good business and a big house with a great view on Breezy Lane. And He is the One who brought us to our much smaller rented apartment below Misgav Ladach Street with no view…and with no job. Want to guess where we’d rather be?

He is the One who gave us opportunities and watched how we responded when they fell away. What did we do? The only thing we could: we turned to Him. We were scared, but we tried our best to accept it with simcha. After all, look where we were!

So David sat in yeshiva rather than sit around the house. I wrote and tried to help people as best I could. We encouraged each other and worked on our middos together and alone. For sure we fell into some very dark and panicked moments (days, weeks), but we simply had to drag ourselves out. What other choice did we have?

We knew deep down that this hardship was for our own good, to help us grow. And emuna (faith/trust) was the unemployment benefit. Knowing that everything we need to complete our task in this world is supplied by Hashem. We may not always like our pekele, but it is truly for our own benefit. The best part is, it’s a benefit that does not ever end, even when prayers are answered.

I’ll tell you a secret we learned through our struggle: Parnassa doesn’t always come from a job. We do not rely on miracles, but they happen with astonishing regularity here. I cannot tell you how many times we’ve heard how someone suddenly had exactly the right amount of money… exactly when it was needed. Just yesterday a man told us how he bought his apartment (from an owner who said he’d never sell) when he had absolutely no savings. A woman we know could not attend a special simcha in America until someone she had done a kindness for unexpectedly offered her points to cover her air fare and hotel. Neighbors received an out of the blue windfall that matched exactly the cost of their daughter’s wedding.

We have our own “miracle” stories. Flashes in the darkness when we clearly saw Hashem’s open Hand. They gave us hope when we wondered if we were ever going to have a positive cash flow again.

Then, about a year ago, Hashem gave us another chance. L’at, l’at, (slowly,slowly) the business is growing. Slowly our days are more and more occupied with phone calls and to do lists, clients and computer screens. We hope it continues and we’ll do our part, the result is up to Him.

We miss how David’s full time learning permeated our home. His shortened daily seder is all the more precious now. I miss being able to dedicate so much time to helping out others, attending shiurim and writing. I especially miss writing these letters to you as often as I’d like. But even this, after all, is an answer to our prayers.

~That’s how it goes here, so be careful what you pray for.

May you be blessed with a parnassa kalla v'nikiya (an easy and clean livelihood) & have a Shana Tova u’metuka, A Good & Sweet New Year~

Come Home Soon,

Love, David and Renee



I’ll continue to write you from to time to time but for now, please see what we’ve been up to: Trusted Property Management and Buyers’ Consulting

We work on referrals, so if you or someone you know is interested in purchasing property in Israel for personal use or investment purposes, we would love to help them through the entire process.

http://www.trusted-property-management-israel.com/ ...

The Spies Among Us say: "The Land is very, very good."

BS"D

Erev Shabbat Parsha Shelach Lecha 5770
June 3. 2010

Last week we asked you to spy out the Land and return with a good report. (here's that post) I am happy to say the vote this time is united: The Land is indeed very, very good! You can still send us the results of your intelligence; we'll be happy to include it.

Now...for the Spies' Report:


When I think of Israel, I am reminded of so many friends who had the courage to pick up everything and leave the familiar surrounding of America and go home to a place that really feels like home...The common thread all these friends share, aside from living in Israel, is that they are content. When [one dear friend] moved, she was 100% confident that she would love her home - not just her house, but her home. When I speak with her now, she agrees that she is content. There is no other place she'd rather be.

I echo the sentiments of those who feel a connection to the earth of the Eretz. It is holy dirt, earth that our ancestors trod, dust that covers my shoes covered their shoes. The pride and unconditional love I feel for the land comes from knowing I carry on a tradition handed down from HaKadosh Baruch Hu to us, his children, to visit historical places in Jewish history, unearth Jewish antiquities and preserve them and keep His Torah alive. You cannot do all this anywhere else but Israel.

Here's my 12 reasons to love Israel:

1. What a pleasure it is to be majority religion.
2. What a pleasure it is for things to close down Friday afternoon and reopen Sunday morning, not Sunday at 12.
3. What a pleasure for place of business to be open Christmas day and be closed on Rosh Hashana.
4. What a pleasure it is be able to eat in any restaurant because the food is kosher.
5. What a pleasure it is to find so many hat shops!
6. What a pleasure it is to find modest clothing in women's clothing stores.
7. What a pleasure it is to be able to find a small shteibel on virtually every corner.
8. What a pleasure it is to see all walks of women (orthodox and non-orthodox) using the same mikvah.
9. What a pleasure it is to touch the smooth stones of the Kotel, knowing the tens of thousands of fingers have touched them for the same reasons you touch them - to get a millimeter closer to HaShem.
10. What a pleasure it is to feel so safe and protected in a place where many would argue is extremely unsafe.
11. What a pleasure it is to hear your neighbors singing the same Shabbos songs you're singing, every single week.
12. What pleasure I take in knowing that one day, Please G-d, I, too, will be able to live in Israel.

Love,
Pam

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What a wonderful thought. Here is my list.
1) I find inner peace when I am in Israel and it gives me strength to
return to my life here in Canada to enjoy my friends and family.

2) I now have relatives living in Israel.

Regards
Marsha Krakowsky

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I loved feeling that, no matter where I went in Israel, I felt I belonged, that I was home.
Judy

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Hi, what a great idea! I can think of lots of things I loved about being in Israel. . .

I loved feeling like every minute I was accomplishing something, just because I was in Israel. If I rode the bus, it was major, just because I was in Israel. If I went to the grocery store, it was a big deal, just because I was in Israel. Nothing I could do felt like a waste of time.

And, of course I loved the sharing of taxis. Two people standing somewhere, maybe you were going in the same direction? From taxi rides, I received Shabbos invites and made new friends. I tried this in New York once. . . just didn’t' have the same feel.

Oh yes, and even the most secular of Israelis believes in G-d. “Baruch Hashem,” you hear people saying. Here, in America, it often feels like we intellectually believe in G-d, but we don't really. We don't feel it. We just rationalized it/justified it/logic-ed it out. But there -- you FEEL G-d.

There is a sense that we are all one big family, that G-d is with us, and there is meaning to every minute of our lives. Not a day passes that I don't think of moving back. . .

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-Every family needs a home, and living in Eretz Yisroel is living in our family's true home.
-Every few steps we walk we are fulfilling the Mitzvah of Sechar Halicha
-Being around other Jews, you always have someone to learn from
-The history of our people is around every corner here
-The land is beautiful and Jerusalem in particular is Yafefiah - very beautiful.

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Walking through the Machane Yehuda shuk you have a plethora of delicious fruits and vegetables, most were grown keeping laws of Truma, Maaser, Orlah, and Shmittah, that can only be done here!!!

On Shavuos, regardless of cultural differences, 100's of 1000's of Jews gather at the Kotel, where Hashem's Shechina is most revealed, and daven together.

When you donate blood here, you are giving directly to your brother.

The bus driver says, "Shalom."

You can buy food for years at the local grocery without having to pay your bill; isn't that a ridiculously high level of trust?

When you take a loan from the bank, they provide the Heter Iska! (a halachic contract for business transaction between lender and debtor)

There are no cars on the highway on Yom Kippur, so the very secular make bike races on that day - because even they won't drive a car on Yom Kippur!

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From Faith Cohen
I always say that my role as madrica on these Birthright trips is just a facilitator. The real tour guide is the Almighty— and the land really inspires, captivates and leads the group. My job is to bring them safely to different locations, and let the majesty of the land and the kedusha of the air take over.

1. A silent night stroll in the desert under the stars creates a noise that is as loud as thunder when it reverberates with the soul. During the "Bedouin Experience" portion of the trips, we take the group for a quiet walk through the desert. It is on these walks and afterwards through reflection that participants realize that they are an integral part of the Jewish people. They look at the numerous stars in the sky, and learn that they too are a link and a part of the promise given to Avraham Avinu. Perhaps they would feel this anywhere in the world when faced with a sky lit up as bright as day with hundreds of sparkling stars, but when paired with the experience of meeting our homeland and learning about our heritage, and tracing the footsteps of our ancestors, they are awoken in a way that is indescribable.

2. Meeting a soldier who is your age, and realizing that you have more in common than you thought. "Mifgashim" is a part of the Birthright trips— where soldiers come to join the group as participants. Often, the American participants think they'll have nothing in common with the soldiers. That is until they meet them and realize that these soldiers are their age, their peer group, and support the weight of the state of Israel on their shoulders. The amount of love and support shown to the soldiers by the end of the trip is awesome. They become a part of the group, and the participants can really see and feel that these individuals are sacrificing not just for Jews in Israel, but for all of klal yisroel.

3. Seeing the Kotel for the first time, and crying even through you don't know why. There is something about Yerushalyim, and the Kotel in particular that really strikes a chord inside someone's soul. When I see those tears, I know that it is coming from deep within them— and something subconsciously draws them to the wall. There really is no other way to describe it. Ultimately, their neshamos are a part of something much larger, and just that atmosphere of kedusha at the Kotel brings them back to that realization.

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I miss "crying" as an acceptable social activity. If you go to Kotel, kever Rachel, any of the graves of tzadikim, it's perfectly acceptable -- praiseworthy -- to cry out in pain, anguish, need of a refuah! In America, life must always be perfect -- "have a nice day" is a platitude that no one really means, and if anyone asks, "how are you" they really don't care. If I wanted hang out with a girlfriend and of these locales, where we would inevitably end up crying, would be an activity. A meaningful, worthwhile activity.

And, I miss feeling like you can get on a bus, and know "generally' where you're going, with full faith that someone on the bus will help you find exactly where you need to be. And where hitchhiking is an acceptable -- and safe -- form of transportation.

And of course the Kotel. Not just for the crying. But the feeling like there really is a center of the universe.
The positive aspects of this land are to numerous to even try to list. The sky is bluer, the air fresher, sweeter, the food tastier the people more real and alive. The day-to-day existence is so filled with reality that one comes to understand what is real and meaningful, and it’s not what you'd expect.

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1. To be able to daven at the Kosel
2. To be among our own people, everywhere i.e. shopping, buses, just walking around
3. The siren on Erev Shabbos- no cars on Shabbos in the old city
4. To be able to daven at so many mekomos hakedoshim
5. To be in the land Hashem promised us

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I never lived in Israel, but have dreamed about it since my 1st visit in 1968. My second visit was in 1988 and I felt my heart sink seeing the Old City for the first time in 20 years, realizing I wasn’t a part of the rebuilding by living there. So, in my 8 subsequent visits, I’ve only imagined what it would be like to live every day in Eretz Yisrael.

Here’s what I think the best part of living in Israel would be: I would feel a sense of gratitude every day for where I live instead of a deep seated longing that goes unfulfilled. I would breathe the holy air of the holy land every day. Remember that Hashem made each of us in His holy Image to choose wisely what we do with our lives and where we spend our time.

That’s my 2 cents for today.

Judi Kirk

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The best for me is that everyone is Jewish and you don't feel different. Although my relatives there are 2nd and 3rd cousins, they feel much closer. We feel like one of them. Once I was very sick in Israel and wound up in the old hospital in Safed. Although scared, I felt that I was in good hands. When my doctor came in with a Kippah, I felt safe and it would be okay. The best is that feeling of being home.

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Thanks for the invitation to contribute. Some things quickly came to mind. You should not attribute me: I do not wish to blow my cover since I may wish to spy for you in the future, too.
1) Living as an observant Jew in a pastoral setting (small town, village, farming community)
2) Being able to observe shmitta in all its manifestations
3) Living among Jews of all stripes and flavors, within a generation or two of arrival from >100 countries
4) Walking where my ancestors walked thousands of years ago
5) That radio program discussing this week's haftora, immediately following a pop hit by Lady GaGa... and targeted the same audience
6) The group (somewhat immodestly dressed) teens in a food court during Pesach, squinting as they read a ketchup package to see if it contained chometz
7) Not having to explain why you feel as you do....
8) Is it reishit tzmichat geulateinu (the first flowering of our Redemption) or not? Even if we do not know, living in Israel surely can’t hurt...

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I've only been to Israel twice in my life: once when I was 18 with my parents and siblings, and right before I met my bashert; and the other time with my bashert and our four sons. I was conservative observant at age 18, and more orthodox observant when I went to Israel the second time. Both times, I had the same feelings when we arrived in Israel and when we left Israel. I was overcome with joy of returning home, and overcome with sadness of leaving Israel, our true home. A friend of ours calls Israel the "heart of the world.” It tears at our heartstrings when we are away from it.

Pam Williams

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Thank you for this wonderful challenge - wonderful to think about all the things I love about living in Israel; challenging, because I have to pick and choose the one(s) most appropriate for this project. Feel free to visit my blog and take anything you like out of there. Here's my attempt at summing it all up:

Living in Israel means living MY calendar. My holidays are the country's holidays. My days off from work are my employer's days off from work, etc. This weekend is Memorial Day here in the U.S. It means little more to me than a bar-b-q. Ditto for Independence Day (July 4). New Year's Day (January 1) is when I start dating my checks with a new digit or two at the end. In Israel, I cry on Memorial Day, jump for joy on Independence Day and on Rosh Hashanah I stand before the King of Kings "ba'Makome asher yivchar" (in the place that He has chosen). Take me Home!

Yashar Koach on throwing the ball in our court, Rena. Can't wait to see what you compile.

Love, S.
http://www.rememberjerusalem.blogspot.com/

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SO here are 12 things I love
1-The children are very self reliant on the one hand, and maintain their childishness too
2-The school and work calendar is built around the Jewish calendar -- no need to take vacation days for chaggim
3-Fresh bread is dropped off outside the local store in the morning, if the store is not yet open; I can take a loaf of bread and pay for it later
4-We are all family -- a deliveryman can yell you at one moment and be giving you brachot the next
5-Buying tzitzit and bedikat cloths at the grocery store
6-On erev Shabbat and erev Chag, the streets are lined with vendors selling flowers and fruit for Shabbat
7-The grocery clerks wishes you a Shabbat shalom and chag sameach
8-The tent in the parking lot sells Purim costumes
9-The pool has separate hours for men and women
10-It's more common to find big families in small homes than small families in big homes
11-Yom Hazikaron is truly a day to remember those that paid the ultimate sacrifice for this land
12-You can travel a short distance and be in a place relevant to Tanach
c

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For us, now being back in America, we can see that during our time in Israel, although there were the gashmius "difficulties" and "adjustments" the spiritual clarity and day-to-day ruchnius was ever-present.

Of course now in America, and worldwide, most people are experiencing the gashmius "difficulties" and "adjustments" AND are TOTALLY lacking spiritual clarity and daily, or even monthly, ruchnius. So I guess that makes a very strong case for where we need to be...

Jennifer

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Shopping in Machane Yehuda Thursday nights and Friday mornings to
prepare for Shabbos. it is great fun buying rugelach, salads, and
cheeses with thousands of other Jews, while eating a falafel and
shlepping all of your bags.

Celebrating Purim all week long. The stores are all loaded with silly
costumes, and shaloch manos baskets galore. The streets are filled with
happy children dressed up in costumes singing age-old Purim songs. the
joy lasts for days even when the parade is over.

Living in the old city and celebrating Yom Yerushalim with loads of other Jews while listening to a concert and watching fireworks.

Going cherry picking on a local kibbutz and being able to learn how to take your own truma and maaser on your fresh picked cherries.

Staying up all night on Shavuos hopping from one class to another, or one cheesecake party to another and meeting thousands of other Jews down at the Kotel for sunrise Shacharis.

Watching the yeshiva HaKotel boys dance and sing their way down to the Kotel for Kabbalat Shabbat.

This is a small sampling from josh and Jodi

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& here's a final note from an insightful woman in America who, like many of you, is strengthening K'lal Yisrael in her own special way:

Things could change. At this time in our life, I feel we will be better off here (we are very blessed in so many ways).

As I walk in the neighborhood I say Berachas for all the people I see and all the homes we pass. Does I help them? I do not know but it helps me.

We are grateful you and David are happy living there and my constant prayer is for a political change, for a better world absorbed in study of Torah.

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Well, I am crying, how about you??

Reading your reports really made me think about what it will take for everyone to see how amazingly good the Land is. Besides seeing the good and speak positively, I wonder... if we are also being negative (sad, complaining, jealous), are we dulling the good we've put out there? For example, I just don't understand when I hear my fellow olim say, "It's too hot to...(fill in the blank)," "I can't find decent mustard (...soy sauce, dry cleaners...) anywhere in this country," or " What's with all the sick cats?"

The sin of the spies was one of Loshen Hara, hearing and believing slander, true or not. We correct that damaging trait with an "ayin tova" focusing on the good in The Land of Israel.

B"H it's hot, that means fields and fields of sunflowers! The mustard is just fine here, maybe having 17 choices is not so important, anyway. And remember, you can now find decent tunafish and Heinz ketchup pretty much about anywhere. About the cats...we have virtually no rats, case closed.

And it's not only the Land, as our final spy reported. It's even more important, I think, when it comes to each other. Let's not talk about "them" : the groups of Jews we don't "get.” Let's not be distracted by our friend's/family member's/co-worker's shortcomings; we all have them, after all. Let's see the tzelem Elokim (the G-dliness) in every Jew!

With our "ayin tova" we can eradicate Loshen Hara and truly build each other up. Then we might actually see a K'lal Yisrael settled in Eretz Yisrael the way it's supposed to be, because Eretz Yisrael will only flourish with her People.

Thank you, all you spies among us. Like Calev and Yehoshua, the two spies who returned to the Land in the merit of their positive report, we hope that you continue seeing everything with your ayin tova and may Hashem bless you all to come home soon.

Love,
Renee and David


~Baruch haBah to our newest olim from Atlanta, Rabbi Kalman and Mrs. Malka Rosenbaum, who instilled in our children, and in everyone they meet, that each of us is a tzelem Elokim. Your arrival touches us all, may we merit to hear bsoros tovos together soon.~


...

Spies Like Us

Soon we will read the Torah portion Shelach, recalling the sin of the spies. These were the 12 men that Moshe sent to scout out the Land of Israel before entering. When they returned, their distorted and negative reports caused the b’nai Yisrael to despair. As a result of speaking and believing this slander about the land, Hashem decreed a 40 year delay before they could enter the Land.

Our first year here, Nefesh B'Nefesh initiated a "12 to 12" project. They requested that, because olim are witness to all that is good and special about living here, we tell our family, friends and neighbors abroad what those things are. In 2007 hundreds of us composed lists of 12 things we appreciate and love about living in Israel and emailed the lists to at least 12 friends in the “Old County.” In this way, we hoped to help rectify the Sin of the Spies.

David and I sent out a letter we called “12+1.” The next year, the project went on quietly and we sent you our “12 to 120.” Last year, I continued with “12 Invitations”

This year I am doing it differently: I’d like YOU to be the spies.

Please write to me here with anything you believe to be positive about living in this wonderful, holy Land. I’ll put them together and send it out to the list (with or without your name, let me know) before Shabbat Parsha Shelach. It’ll be our “Achdus” list. In the merit of your Loshen Tov about Eretz Yisrael, may all our efforts help to bring about the miracle we are anticipating-when you all come home soon.

Send your email to me here soon! ...

Let Your Children Go

B"H

5 Iyar 5770
April 19, 2010

Dear Friends and Family,

Life has settled back into routine after a wonderful Pesach holiday. B”H our children were all home and we had a great time, and especially loved the gift of getting to know our new precious granddaughter, bli ayin hara.

It seemed that before we knew it, we were sending them off to the airport-back to their lives of work, school and friends in America. It was so hard for me to let my children go. Even with all the advances in communication, we can’t be there when one of them just wants a hug, a dose of mothering when they are hurt or sick, or us to join them in a milestone celebration. We sacrifice the daily nachas of seeing our granddaughter grow. It’s painful not to be part of each others’ lives in that way. Thank G-d they have a good support system of family, friends and connections there. They are growing in the right directions and making us proud with their choices.

And I think they feel proud of our choice too. They see how much we love living here and thrive on the clarity and the kedusha that permeates life in Israel. For them, coming home means coming to the center of the universe. It means revisiting the place where so much growth happened in their young lives and memories are revived every time they so much as hop on a bus. We are of course disappointed that despite our passion, they choose not to live here. What happened? I think that except for “yeshiva couples,” Israel is not seen as a viable alternative to "getting on on with life" in America after learning here post high school.

I pray that at the right time, they will decide to come, but for now, we are grateful to Hashem (and our depleted frequent flyer accounts); for those precious couple of weeks over Pesach. We spent most of our days together and did not have many guests; the kids have few friends here now, anyway. A lot of our time was spent in Pesach cleaning and cooking marathons; thanks to everyone pitching in, we made it through with sanity and shalom in check.

Needless to say, we saw a lot of our grocery delivery man, Tvi. Tzvi is a quiet, wiry man who followed me home just about every other day before and during Pesach, pushing his hand truck loaded with boxes of more fresh Israel grown oranges, apples, lemons, eggplants, onions, garlic, carrots, lettuces, kholrabi, cucumbers, tomatoes, fragrant herbs than you can imagine. Plus liters of Diet Coke, wine and water. And oh yes, potatoes, potatoes, potatoes! Tzvi often gives us a morsel of a vort as he walks out of our door after dropping off the groceries, and here’s one I’d especially like to share with you:

Pesach made us the Nation of Israel. Peasch is spelled with the letters: pay, sameach, het, which Tzvi said stands for “Protexia,” “Savlanut,” “Chutzpha” – these, he told us with a wink, make us Israeli.

His jest was funny because it has its truth and it made me wonder, am I an Israeli yet?

We do not have the born-and-bred-in-Israel type of Protexia, but we olim look out for each other. We share information and experience, give referrals and advice freely. We advertise for each other and look out for parnassa opportunities as if it was for our own child or brother. Unquestionably, an oleh of decades will willingly go to bat and even stick his neck out for newbies like us or any other oleh in a tight spot.

Savlanut comes simply because we have the merit to live in the Land of our national yearning. Being grateful for that miracle alone dwarfs any inconvenience, any obstacle. Even though the same problems arise here as everywhere else, our worries are less because the clarity is so much more.

However, I don’t think anyone would say I have chutzpah. I DO wait patiently in line and I sometimes cry if an Israeli talks to me with chutzpah (like my driving instructor did yesterday). In Alabama where I was raised, chutzpah was considered just plain old bad manners. But here, it is something different altogether. It is certainly blunt but it doesn’t have to be arrogant. If one can master the ability to deliver a dose of it honestly, and even charmingly-it is a much admired trait.

An Israeli driving instructor for instance, will talk to you with relentless bluntness because he wants to see you pass the exam. The taxi driver will ask you personal questions like how much is your rent and then tell you that you should rent in his neighborhood because it costs much less for the same space. When the kids run in line in front of me at the makolet (neighborhood grocery) the cashier may or may not give them musser (chastize them) and send them to the back of the line. But either way, the kids, as they master the art of chutzpah, will try it again.

I shy away from being “chutzpah-dik” because I see it as overstepping certain boundaries. I guess it is accepted and admired here because we are all family, and relatives push the boundaries because we are genuinely concerned about our family. Since every Jewish child is part of our family, Israelis feel it’s responsible to give their opinion just about anytime. The love comes through even if the message is tough.

If I want to be Israeli, according to Tzvi, then I’d better develop the art of chutzpah...so here goes.

Many, many yeshiva and seminary students have found their way to our Shabbos table in the past 3 years. As Pesach approaches and the end of their year looms, our discussions inevitably lead to what their plans are for the next year or two. It is wonderful that often they want to return for a year and can possibly see themselves building a life here. For others, returning or staying is not even on their radar screen. But besides spending a second year, they are all resigned to leaving, at least for now.

They leave behind a precious atmosphere of growth and clarity, a Land of great adventure, limitless spiritual possibility and unequaled academic opportunity. Beginning their adult life dedicated to building k’lal Yisrael in Eretz Yisrael is beyond their realm of reality. Why?

The reason they all give is, “my parents.”
“My parents want me home,” -Of course, we all want our children near us.
“I need to finish school, get married, begin a career, save some money...then maybe I can come.” -By then the dream defers to the demands of the life they have already built.
“I really want to, but my friends are all leaving.” -It’s true, their friends do not stay, it isn’t the “thing” to do.
“I don’t see myself here at all.” This is the saddest thing for us to hear.

What is going on??? Parents, I know you want your kids to have the best possible future. I know you want them to have opportunities that you never did. I know you want them to to be challenged in positive ways and to grow into the incredible human beings you know they are...to fulfill and surpass your every dream for them --and for their children.

And I know you know the America in which we were raised in will never be the one they raise their children in. Even if it does get better financially, once the moral slippery slope begins in a society, it never, never rises. America and the world are morally bankrupt.

Life can be simple and pure here like no place else for the Jew. Children are raised in a life defined by Jewish values whether in the country, the suburb or the density of the city. Their neighbors may wear any kind of kippa-or none at all- or they could live in a building with Jewish friends from families just like theirs on every floor in every single apartment.

Living in a country where authentic Jewish values are the norm gives them a freedom children in America will never know. Your 5 year old can safely walk to to the makolet or take the 3 year old to the park, and you don’t have to hover over their every move. The 10 year old can bus across town with friends. We will watch out for them and maybe dispense a dose of musser if needed. This kind of independence naturally builds self esteem in children from an early age.

A family thrives on much less money here. Tuition and health bills are comparatively nonexistent. In most families both parents do not need to work full time, so mommy is there when a child comes home from school or is sick a day or two. We are not always running out to Target. Kids don’t get something new every week and don’t feel they need it because their friends aren’t getting either. Finding a school may be a challenge because there are so many choices, but again, there are so many choices.

We all know how difficult, dangerous or impossible aliya is for families with a broad age of children and established parnassa. So what can you do? Don’t perpetuate the cycle! Encourage your kids to think about beginning their young lives here. Support them if they desire to be here and help them to make it a reality.

As I see it, they need two things: #1 You to want them here. They love you, care what you think and want to make you proud. #2 A support system of friends. They have teachers and rabbis for guidance, and maybe some family, but they will need a social life. For things to change, parents must encourage and help them find schools and housing with friends. You help them there, why not here? For olim, college is free! They get rent subsidies, great health care, parks are safe, and there is good clean fun at 11 PM in the city.

Most of all, they are needed here. Really needed. Israel needs their middos, their minds, their strength, their vision. Their contribution to society is a foundation stone in the Land of their forefathers. The children they will bear validates the lives lost by millions of martyrs in the centuries of our longing for Eretz Yisrael.

The doors are open. Instead of diving into a materialistic society that gives little return on your and their investment, how about encouraging them to strengthen their OWN nation? We have responsibility as the parents of the next generation of builders. You can keep them near you, shepping daily nachas, or let your children go--and reap eternal reward.

There it is, my first attempt at chutzpah-If you don’t like what I have to say, it’s OK-but you know I love you, I mean well and want the best for you because you are my family.

May our children be the ones who finally tip the heavenly scales in our favor, and bring us all home soon.

Love,
Renee And David


P.S. In spite of the chutzpah of my driving instructor, or maybe because of it, I am now the proud bearer of an official Israel Drivers License.

...

Aliya Fantasy Camp Anyone?

A letter to Yishai Fleischer of Israel National Radio
and kumah.org

Dear Yishai,

Hi, this is Fran. I was at your Kumah meeting in NY last year
when you talked about the "aliyah boat". I have another idea
for your listeners: I call it Fantasy Aliyah!

In the Jewish newspapers in NY they are advertising a Glatt
Kosher, Shomer Shabbat Fantasy *baseball *camp with one of the NY major league teams. I root for the OTHER NY team, but in any case I would not spend ridiculous sums of money to go do such a thing since being a baseball player is not
my fantasy.

However, I really wish I could make aliyah, but for personal
family reasons I am not yet in a position to do so. My husband
and I are working on a longer term plan, but meanwhile we

are bringing the family to Israel this summer.

Instead of vacationing in the expensive tourist bubble of
four or five star Hotels and fancy tours, I planned a trip
where we are renting a house for three weeks in a community
we would consider living in where we have some friends. We
will be attending an unveiling ceremony, and also a wedding.
We will visit friends,do some fun things for sure. Most important is that I want to learn to ride the buses, the train, shop in the supermarket, shop at the mall, visit the community pool, the library and practice my Hebrew. I may even rent a car and try driving in Israel (scary thought!)

At first I was calling this my pre pre pilot trip, but now I am
calling it Fantasy Aliyah! For three weeks I'm going to imagine that I'm really an olah chadasha! My daughter
even picked up an NBN hat for me at the salute to Israel parade!

I'm hoping that this will be a good experience, and make the
idea of aliyah less scary. I'm hoping that I will get more
comfortable with being in Israel, and that one day G-d
willing we can make aliyah for real.

Meanwhile "Fantasy Camp" in Israel, is better than not
coming at all! We hope to turn our Fantasy into reality some
day soon.

You may read this email on air as an idea for your listeners,
and I hope to visit Beit El and all my radio friends at INR.

Fran ...

Be The Yearning Remnant

B”H

Rosh Chodesh Nissan 5759
March 26, 2009


Dear Friends and Family,

We did not plan on coming home this way, but we were glad it worked out that we landed in Eretz Yisrael last night on an El Al flight, instead of on Delta as we had booked. Tuesday night we arrived at Hartsfield Atlanta and learned that our direct flight was extremely oversold. We could each receive a $400 voucher if we volunteered to be routed through London and arrive home 4 hours later than we’d planned. So I thought about it as David made the tenth man for a waiting maariv minyan. Hmmm, a bit of a hassle, but with family in America and budgets tighter than ever, this offer could be a gift; when I met back up with David, he agreed. And soon we boarded the Delta to London to spend the night with some of the most well behaved passengers I have ever seen. Those Brits stayed buckled when the sign was lit, made way for flight attendants in the aisles, cooed over quiet smiling babies, and conversed with one another in delightful accents.

After our three hour layover at Heathrow, we cleared security and found ourselves huddled en masse at the ElAl gate with hundreds of Israelis headed home for Pesach. The crowd was merging towards just 2 agents taking boarding passes, and funneling into one walkway toward the 747’s door. No “zone” boarding, no long thin lines, but no pushing or jostling either. And while babies cried throughout the trip and the “fasten seat belt sign” was largely ignored; the poor flight attendants were cheerful in spite of passengers blocking the aisles and the accents were, mamash, the best in the world. As we approached Ben Gurion, I peered past a young man with tears in his eyes to see the glow of lights marking the shoreline of our Eretz Yisrael.

The landing was like a kiss. And of course, because it was ElAl, we clapped.

I cannot tell you how good it is to be home. The purpose of our trip was the marriage of our precious daughter to her true bashert. We are so grateful that we merited this simcha, that her new family is so gracious, and that many of our friends and family were in attendance. I can tell you that in our entire lives, we have felt no greater happiness than this.

But days have rivaled it. Like the glorious day of our own wedding, and each of the sweet transcendent days our daughters were born, and the day we, with tears in our eyes, peered out the window of another ElAl jet to see the approaching shoreline of our Eretz Yisrael. The day we made aliya.

I can honestly say our aliya has impacted our lives and changed us for the better as much as our marriage and parenthood have. These are the milestones in life we Jews are designed for. These are what we yearn for, prepare for, pray for and cry over. And yes, we yearned to be here, prepared and prayed and cried for it. Just as we knew the Almighty preordained that David and Renee would marry and chose just these two perfect daughters for us, we knew He was also inviting us, beckoning us, yearning for us to come home.

He beckons us all. I’ve heard it said that it is a mitzvah to live here just as much as it is a mitzvah to wear tzitzit. Surely tzitzit doesn’t involve the complications that the upheaval of aliya does. So I cannot help but wonder, why this analogy? It is because tzitzit, detached from a four cornered garment, are just knots and strings? And what are we--when detached from Eretz Yisrael?

In these letters, I’ve tried to relate how spiritually enhancing living here can be-where every mundane day, adventure and mishap, detour and encounter can feel Divinely crafted just for each of us on a level that cannot be compared to when living in America. And on top of that, the geula (world upheaval leading to Moshiach, rebuilding of the Temple, the ingathering of the Exiles, World Peace...) feels imminent here. We are excited but worried. There are still Jews, our friends and family, living in the four corners of the world-and time is running out.

I’ve heard that if you yearn, really yearn with your whole heart, then you can be counted among those who are here. For the first time in 2000 years, 3,000,000 Jews have the option to come. But most do not, nor do they even yearn to live here or to visit or have their children live here. Even among “Torah Jews” like us. Why is that? I cannot judge, it is not possible for many, I know. But for so many others, it is possible and possibly even comfortable. Goodness knows, we have decent tuna fish, VOIP and wholesome neighborhoods. We do have less money, less affluence, and less crime, and more freedom.

Freedom will be the prevailing topic in two weeks when we will iy”H sit at the Pesach seder and read the Haggadah. Don’t you often wonder why 4/5ths of our people did not merit freedom? Why they did not see the signs of the imminent destruction of Egypt as they knew it? Signs so clearly from the hand of G-d-- did they explain them away as natural disasters? Did they just get used to the immorality, the violence and the loss of personal autonomy? We descend from those who did see, who could no longer bear the burdens. They cried out to Hashem and He was waiting. He brought a yearning remnant to receive His Torah and to be His holy nation. This was a nation ready to inherit the Land.

Living here has it’s challenges. I cried all morning after we saw the new couple off to Baltimore following sheva brachos in Atlanta. I do not know when we will see them again. I will miss sharing an occasional Shabbos with them and a common time zone to make calling easier. It’s true, we chose to leave our family and friends, the familiar and easy. Even though it was our choice, I still ache each and every time someone innocently asks if all of our children will be with us for Pesach.

Of course I want our children here, but they have to want it, too. I confess that I write because I hope everyone who reads this will hunger for home. And if these letters serve to feed your innate yearning, then they have also served their purpose. Yearn they way a mother yearns for her child. Yearn until tears fill your eyes and you cry out to your Father. Because if your heart is really, really here, then- when the blink of an eye moment that has been building for all of eternity finally does come, then- Hashem will count you among the ones He already brought out. And besrat H” He will bring you out, too. Maybe even sooner.

At the end of our single seder, footsteps from the waiting Temple Mount, we will still say “Next Year in Yerushalayim,” even here. Because without you, our family is not complete. So I will continue to yearn that you-every single one of you- will also yearn to come home soon.

Chag Pesach Kasher V'Sameach.

Love,
Renee and David

...

My Disconnect Week

Kislev 7, 5768
December 4, 2008

Dear Friends and Family,

It started one Wednesday when David was in America. First, the internet went down. Ok, it happens. Usually we are back online in 15 to 20 minutes. So I kept checking. Too soon, I began to feel a little disconnected. As the hours went by and I kept trying to log on, I began to feel quite out of touch. So I decided to call someone: Netvision, our internet provider. I am just familiar enough with Hebrew to figure out how to get to technical support. First question to the voice on the other end: “Do you speak English?” “Of course,” was his reply. I told him we were off line. He took me through all the unplugging and replugging of the modem, the Airport, etc. that I had already performed several times myself, of course. No connection. He said he would have to have a technician call me. We arranged a time frame for late that night, and I waited.

The time for my phone date with the Netvision technician came and went. So I called them. When someone answered, I asked “Do you speak English?” “Of course,” was the reply. I told him what was going on and that no one called me yet. He said, “I need to get someone speaking English.” Then I was disconnected. It was late, I went to sleep and hoped for the best tomorrow.

Thursday morning, still offline. When I called this time, they said it was not a problem on our line, but a Netvision problem and we would be up and running later that day. Good. I had a busy day until late that night, so I would not really miss it.

I was spending that week as a madricha (volunteer who helps a guide), with an Aish HaTorah Gem trip to Israel http://www.aish.com/gem/. Eleven incredible women ages 33-88 toured and learned here for ten days and I got to spend every wonderful, memorable, inspiring, and exhausting moment with them. I was all over the city gathering food and running errands, shepherding stragglers and checking in with the rest of the group. My phone, as you can imagine was vital to the operation. And this was the day, after 4 years of almost perfectly reliable service, that it decided to completely die. No, it was not the battery. It was the whole thing. My phone numbers-gone. My access to the group-gone. My frustration-not gone.

It had been a great phone, that Blackberry. Sure, it was a bit complicated and certainly outdated, but it did everything, and much more than, I wanted. Without it, I was really disconnected. So I hurried to town to pick up a simple little phone. And there it was The Simple Phone. Little, too. The phone I’d wanted before inheriting the Blackberry. The phone of my dreams….Slip in the SIM card and-except for losing all those phone numbers-back in the business (of being a madricha).

So I gave the very pregnant saleswoman with about 17 earrings in one ear the 300 NIS (today that’s $75.00) thank you very much-and b’sha tova! She gave me a big smile and rubbed her tummy. Connected.

When I got home very late that night, I tried to check my email…but to no avail. We were still offline. Knowing that it was an attempt in vain, I called Netvision anyway. “Do you speak English?” “Of course,” I repeated the story and he said, “I will get someone speaking English.” This time I was not disconnected. The technician spoke perfect English accented with that delightfully, sweet Israeli accent I love. He was kind, too, when he repeated what I knew, that it was a Netvision problem, “we are working on it now and you will have service by the morning.” Flavoring my English with my newly acquired Israeli attitude, I asked, “What time this morning? The morning is just a few minutes away.” He was amused, but noncommittal. I was still offline, but we connected.

Friday morning, I woke and checked my email. 52 messages!!! I’d have to read them later. I was scheduled to escort our Gem Ladies on their Old City program. By noon-ish we were done, so I came home to clean and rest up for Shabbos. I was accompanying several ladies to host families for dinner & lunch, so I did not have to prepare meals, but I had Shabbos guests for sleeping. I made the beds, dusted and “sponge-ahhd” (Israeli mopping) and sat down to read all those emails.

Before I knew it, it was 3 pm, almost time for candles. I dressed and went down the list of things to do (lights, turn off dud (hot water heater), call David, parents and daughters-great the internet phone was working). As I set the Shabbos lock on the gate outside, I noticed our mezuzah, which has been lodged into a crevice in the stone wall ever since we have been here---was gone. I looked all around but it was mysteriously nowhere to be found. We have a lot less doors here than in America, which means a few extra scrolls were tucked away, so I quickly found one, and looked up the bracha. As I said it and placed a new scroll in the doorpost, I heard my neighbor in the stairwell say “amen!” Yea!, connected again.

My guests arrived with cookies and smiles. As we chatted in the kitchen before we lit candles, I washed a few straggling glasses and noticed a putrid but familiar smell. Then I heard the drain “gurgle.” The horrible sound that means: the sewer is clogged, again. Oh no… This time it was our courtyard neighbor who heard me. I was in distress. He was leaving for his minyan, but told his wife that first, he would go to the Muslim Quarter to find an Arab plumber he knows. It was time to light, and meet up with the Gem Group. I had to leave the gate open for the plumber and go. Had to.

The Arab never came and all Shabbos I tried not to worry about an overflow. I placed towels all around so we hopefully could contain a disaster, and we kept water use to a bare minimum. B”H, we were saved and Sunday morning the son of the Rova plumber showed up. He’s a great kid, knows what he is doing and made jokes about the nature of his work. He can certainly joke. Plumbers here get paid more than many doctors and I wonder if maybe they are even more appreciated. Within 15 minutes and 230 NIS ($58) later, we were unclogged.

Internet, phone, mezuzah and sewer. All conduits. Why, within three days, did these four things disconnect, disappear and clog up?

Then, I realized that it really wasn’t the things—the true conduits were open, they were the people Hashem brought to me. The essential Jewish kindness of the Netvision technicians came through over the phone line, no matter how much English they thought they understood. They really just wanted to help. The multi-pierced woman at the phone store was genuinely happy to place exactly what I was looking for in my hands. And she knew I was sincere about my little bracha to her. Her child is also my child, just like when I hung the mezuzah. My mitzvah was also my neighbor’s. And when the sewer scare began, my other neighbor did not think twice, of course he was going to help me, despite the inconvenience. I could not help but be struck by the sight of the darling plumber’s son, so refined as he went about his grubby work. Only a Jew could make this job seem noble.

They are all around, every day, ready for connection. On the bus, in the makolet (little groceries that are everywhere), the waitress, the pharmacist, and the beggar who looks up and smiles when I drop a coin in her plastic cup. Only here can I get a heartfelt bracha for a shekel. There it is: "Kol Yisrael arevim zeh le zeh,," another connection.

All of those disconnects seemed like frustrating inconveniences that I had to deal with alone. It was really the opposite. Hashem was leading me to connect with others. I had to talk to Jews at Netvision and ask friends if I could come and check my email. I had to ask people about where to buy a phone, then share a bus ride to the store and share excitement with the mom to be. When the plumber’s father came to check the work, I got to tell a dad what a great kid he has-and because we are all connected, he was my kid, too.

It’s the same with these letters that I write to you. I do it so I can feel connected to you, and you to Eretz Yisrael--until you all come home, may it be very soon.

Love,
Renee & David ...

Why Lori Palatnik Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Last summer an adorable Nevey Yerushalyim student from Kentucky spent a Shabbos with us here in the Old City. I cannot remember her name but I doubt I'll ever forget her story. Over the Friday night meal she told us that she was learning here because one evening she agreed to join her cousin at an Aish haTorah event. There she heard a speaker who provoked a question in this bright young woman. Could there be more to life than finishing college, graduating at the top of her class, and beginning a promising career? This question kept cycling through her mind. So, she made a bargain with herself. In the unlikely event that she could not land a position in her chosen field, well...she'd just go to Israel and learn there for a while.

You guessed it, after 32 resumes, countless follow up conversations and a only a few unmemorable interviews, she couldn't believe it, but she had not even the prospect of a job.

So, she kept that promise to herself and enrolled in a seminary in Israel. With tears in her eyes, the young woman told us how failing to land a job --in the field she had invested years of her life struggling for and working towards-- was the greatest kindness of Hashem. If she could only see Lori Palatnik, the speaker she held responsible for the bargain she made, and thank her....

Shabbos day our guest ventured out of the Old City to visit a relative in town. On the way back, she saw a familiar woman walk out of a hotel and head in her same direction, towards the ancient stone walls. First, she caught her breath; then she heard her own voice (as if it belonged to someone else she later told us), shaking but loud enough, say to the woman, "Excuse me, but are you Lori Palatnik?"

"Yes, I am," the woman replied and revealed her trademark, inviting smile.

Hashem, it seems, places His angels exactly where He needs them to be. This young woman and countless like her are why Lori Palatnik -and just a handful like her-needs to be in America today. Watch her 4 minute video as she so poignantly explains:


There are many legitimate reasons people cite for not living here in Israel. Most of these reasons do not involve mesiras nefesh, sacrifice, but Lori's reason certainly does. May she and her family redeem the merits they have most certainly accrued-and come home soon. ...

Making a Living, Making a Life

B"H

3 Tishre 5769
Tzom Gedalia
October 2, 2008

Dear friends and family,

Often a letter (remember those?) or more contemporarily, a blog will begin with "Sorry, I haven't written in a while, but…."

Well, if you read my missives, then you know I've not written since July –and some have emailed in complaints, which I took as a compliment, you can be sure. But that doesn't mean that I have not been writing. I have been writing for m-o-n-e-y! Yes, publications have actually been paying me a pittance for the words I string into ideas that hopefully make their readers smile, cry, think or (hopefully not) skim and skip.

It's certainly not enough to support my husband in learning—yet. But that is among the many things I prayed for yesterday. And now it has been decided.

In the aftermath of all that davening, in the fog of this fast of Gedalia, I have been thinking: since our income is predetermined for the year, why do we even bother to work at all?

This question came up in a recent discussion I had with some visiting seminary students who are in the midst of deciding what they will study next year. With their teachers, they are exploring this idea of why we must find a parnassa. They learned that when Hashem told Adam that his livelihood would come "by the sweat of your brow," He was saying: our relationship has changed. I will no longer openly provide for all your needs. Now you must go to work. Only after Adam made the effort, would Hashem provide the food and shelter they needed.

Work is the vessel into which Hashem's material blessings flow.

Our need for food, clothing and shelter are a constant distraction from the real meaning of our lives. Sometimes we forget what our purpose is. Then comes Rosh Hashanah to remind us that we are only here to be emissaries of the King, and He will give us everything necessary to support us in that mission. And we are supposed to feel secure. But we do not.

Earning a living is hard. Effort is not always commensurate with reward. In the economic debacle we witnessed this Elul, we found out that financial security is often an illusion.

Nowhere is this more clear than in trying to support a family in Israel. The most common question I heard on my recent trip to America was, "Is it really possible to make a living there?" The answer is "Of course it is."

Then of course, David and I haven't completely figured that out yet. While we, like many, came with a job, a high percentage of those first oleh jobs do not hold for the long term. We count among that group. But a new, exciting position was not long in coming and Hashem once again proved to be the holder of the keys to success. While opportunity abounded last spring, Rabbi Berel Wein's organization, which depends on fundraising efforts in America for the bulk of its projects, is now suffering along with its benefactors. Hishtadlus, effort, is still necessary, but in the light of the economy, success is clearly and undeniably dependent upon His will.

Living here allows us to be defined by how we serve Hashem. We take our kochos, G-d given strengths and talents, and use them to do mitzvos-which includes providing for our families. Our job or career is not an expression of who we are, but rather, a utensil, if you will. It is the container for the physical means that helps us rise to the challenge of becoming a mighty soul.

You might say this idea is not really so different than the way it goes in America. It's true. But the difference is that in chutz l'aretz, hishtadlus and success are more relational. Effort seems to have a more direct effect on achievement. Here, you really need a deeper sense of bitachon. More often than not, we do not see a reciprocal cause and effect between the direction of our effort and the source of our reward. Help usually comes from an unexpected place-- often one that defies logic.

But there is also something else. It's how we live. It's a simpler life. And therefore, there is less pressure on the budget. Clothing, food, utilities may be more costly, but our closets, desires and homes are smaller so it takes much less to fill their demands.

Sometimes income can be measured in what we do not spend. If a family has a car, they usually have just one. And they walk to the makolet, bank, gan whenever they can. The children take the bus to school and run outside every afternoon to play. Their tuition, our doctors and prescriptions are miniscule in comparison to what we paid in the US. Entertainment comes in taking a walk on holy soil, bumping into neighbors, going out for a Fro-Yo, lingering over a "café auh-fuh" (upside down coffee), sitting on a bench and watching the children play, tourists walk by, the cloud formations, the stars.

It's not an American life, it's a simple life and it's a Jewish life.

And that, my friends, is what it is like to live in Israel …. A land that HaShem your G-d cares for constantly…(His) eye is on it from the beginning of the year and until the end of the year"

Our parnassa was decided yesterday. Now, our job is to creatively and energetically address the opportunities that Hashem sends our way, and the result we entrust to Him.

May you be blessed with "parnassa kalla v'nikiya" (an easy and clean- so you don't have to sweat too much- livelihood) in the new year. In any effort you expend, may you merit to see Hashem's hand in the reward. And of course, may you all come home soon.

Love,
Renee and David



















9 Recommendations for Making a Living in Israel

1-Get a Degree

In Israel they like degrees-if you are a college graduate, in almost any area-jobs are here. If you are young enough, you can attend university for free.

The younger you are, the easier it is to snag those jobs. Over 40, it's more difficult. However, the entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well here, and expertise is valued, especially in new companies.

2-Teach

English teachers are in high demand http://www.eslemployment.com/esl-articles/english-teaching-in-israel.htm

Teachers in the school system are required to get an Israeli teaching certificate. To get a certificate requires a 1-2 year program of courses and apprenticeship.

3-Professions

Accountants can provide local financial services or international financial services. To provide local services they must get local certification.

Lawyers who wish to practice Israeli law in Israel must also receive local certification. You must have a reasonable level of Hebrew proficiency and perform an apprentice program with a local lawyer and pass the Israeli bar. Many Israeli companies require the services of American and European lawyers for doing business internationally. They do not need Israeli certification.

Medical professionals must receive Israeli certification. The certification process requires validation of credentials, a reasonable level of Hebrew proficiency and passing Israeli licensing exams (in Hebrew). Nefesh b'Nefesh has an incentive package for doctors that you should check out. http://www.nbn.org.il/news_2008/_january/01.14.08.ynet.htm

4-Sell Abroad

-To sell anything to Israelis requires an excellent understanding of Israeli culture. Don't plan on making a living in sales here.
-However, Israeli entrepreneurs are in need of experienced people to sell their products abroad. If you have expertise and contacts in any area, especially hi tech and medical, there are companies that need your services.

5-Construction, Renovation

Construction in Israel is booming. The workers get paid poorly and are usually either foreigners or Arabs and the business end requires many inside contacts to tread through tricky bureaucracy. Therefore, it's important to have an Israeli partner with protexia.

There is a need for those who can do "shiputzim," small to medium renovation work at American standards, even better if using only Jewish labor. This is a good starter business; plus with your truck, and a few strong men, you could be a mover (always needed) on the side.

6-Hi-Tech

Programmers, web specialists, electrical engineers are in demand. Experienced applicants can receive salaries in the top 15% of the country. Even applicants right out of college can receive in the top 40% of the country. Weekly newsletter with computer jobs: http://www.cji.co.il/index.html

7-A new career

Consider re-training, it's subsidized for olim.

http://www.esek.com/jobsii.html
http://www.aliyahjobcenter.org/index.php

8-Network

the OU is having a Job Fair in November: click here

Join yahoo groups in the areas you are considering living. You'll see job postings regularly. I can give you those links if you want.


9-Good to know:
-Learn Hebrew as soon as you get here.
-Do research in your field before you come, but don't expect to find a job while you are still in America. When employers are hiring, they usually needed you yesterday.
(We did neither.)

-Salaries are considerably less, which can be shocking at first. We discovered that a top, top salary is $50,000-$60,0000. Unless you are supporting kids in America, (traveling there a lot or maintaining an American lifestyle here) you can really make it just fine on less than that.

-Now that there is tax relief for 10 years on income earned in America, and in the light of the projected long term downturn there, the economic barriers to aliya are diminishing.

We have seen time and again that the only way to make it-- is through honest, well planned hishtadlus plus a heavy dose of bitachon, trust that the Almighty, who created the world and can do anything He wants-will be the source of our help. ...

No RSVP Required

B"H

Tammuz 19, 5768
July 22, 2008

As we enter the three weeks, it just gets hotter and hotter. I’ve been tagging along in the heat with friends on vacation Israel as they are committed to learning while they are here. We’ve heard from a half a dozen teachers, all interesting and articulate, some pushing us through text and some dangling esoteric ideas above our heads, and some spoon feeding us practical information that we can use every day. On Monday in Rehavia, we were privileged to learn Shoftim with Aviva Feiner and Mrs. Shira Smiles, a surprise speaker on parsha hashavua. Two days later we went to Neve in Har Nof to hear their all-star lineup including Rabbi Brown and Rebbetzin Heller.

We learned Parsha, Navi, Chumash and Jewish thought. Every amazing teacher taught different topics. Yet in every class, each teacher worked in the same idea. What a privilege and a responsibility to be living in Eretz Yisrael at this time in history. We are witnessing pivotal changes, as many believe the end of one era and the beginning of a new one is happening right now on the world stage. All eyes are on Israel and the Jews.

This is a theme we live with every day, more and more, as we watch banks fail, natural disasters multiply, and anti-semitism rise.

Knowing this, we still have to go on with the business of every day life. And take in a simcha every now and again.

David and I have been privileged to witness several pivotal changes in the past few weeks. Weddings. Weddings are pivotal on a personal level; each new home created begins a new era in the history of these families. We have so much hope as our eyes turn to the bride and groom.

The first thing I noticed about a wedding invitation in Jerusalem is that it doesn’t have an RSVP card. Sometimes there’s an email address for reply, but that is rare. Often before we open the envelope there’s something unusual. No postage stamp. Hand delivered invitations are preferred whenever feasible. A simple map might be printed on the back of the envelope; invitations are often supplied by the catering hall. If we do show up at the wedding, we can stay for as long as we want and wear whatever we want.

There is an air of simple elegance whether the setting is a rustic kibbutz in the hills around Jerusalem or by the lighted swimming pool of a five star hotel. The ruchnius is palpable. We have danced in the heimeshe heart of Ezras Torah; gathered next to the kever of Dovid HaMelech on Har Tzion, shivered in December on the balcony of Aish HaTorah and stood in a strong breeze on the Hass Promenade overlooking the Old City walls, where Avraham Avinu is said to have stood with his son, Yitzchak before the akieda.

Summer weddings begin in the evening when the air is cool. Guests show up wearing anything from clean blue jeans to shimmering ball gowns, but most of us wear a simple Shabbos suit. Those in the know arrive just in time for the chuppa, which is usually well past the time printed on the invitation.….tell me, how do they know?

What I really like is the seamless way the wedding party moves from bedeken to ceremony. When the groom arrives to place the veil over his always beautiful bride’s shining face, the voices that accompany him from the swell of his family and friends are sweet, refined and calming. After the bride receives the blessings from her father and soon to be father in law, the chosson is escorted away by his parents and the entourage of men. Then, the parents of the bride take their daughter in their arms and regally exit to the chuppa, attended by the women.

By the time we arrive, she has just begun her seven circles. There are only a few chairs near the front. Since the chosson and kallah are king and queen, it is only natural that we stand during the chuppa, for when one is in the presence of royalty, one stands.

In an awesomely short amount of time, we have witnessed the establishment of another new bayis ne’eman b’Yisrael. We dance our hearts out. I have never seen such joy as the dancing at a wedding in Yerushalyim. In that hour of dancing passion bordering on mania, you’d think Moshiach had already come.

Weddings bring all sorts of people together. Being so new, we don’t know so many guests, but we’re often pleasantly surprised to see someone from another part of our lives who also know the host families. I danced with a woman from my ulpan at one wedding, shared a table with a woman from a class I took years ago at another, and our regular Friday tzedeka collector and David sat together at a simcha in Har Nof.

Every wedding is a miracle happening before our eyes-especially when we know the couple and all that transpired to bring them to this day. If we allow ourselves to see the unfolding of G-d’s plan in this union, our natural response is to sing and dance with all our heart. “Od yishama b’arei Yehudah u’vechutzos Yerushalayim... kol sasson vekol simcha, kol chosson vekol kallah…”

The thing is, every one of us has a hand delivered invitation to the ultimate unfolding of G-d’s plan in history. No RSVP required, just show up-you’ll know when the time is right. You won’t need a map, you’ll know where you are going. Wear your best blue jeans or sequined skirt. Our Father will bless us and the nations will escort us to our rightful place. You’ll see all your old friends and family. And boy, will we ever dance!

All eyes will be on the Jews and Israel , the Bride and Groom.

Come home soon.
Please.

Love Renee & David

...

12 to 120

B”H

17 Sivan 5768
Erev Shabbos, Parashas Shelach
June 20, 2008

Dear Friends and Family,

This coming Shabbos we read the Torah portion Shelach, recalling the sin of the spies. These were the 12 men that Moshe sent to scout out the Land of Israel before entering. When they returned, their distorted and negative reports caused the b’nai Yisrael to despair. As a result of speaking and believing this slander about the land, Hashem decreed a 40 year delay before they could enter the Land.

Today we are witness to all that is good and special about living here and we have the ability, and perhaps the obligation, to tell our family, friends and neighbors abroad what those things are.

Nefesh B'Nefesh is again this year promoting their "12 to 12" project. They requested that every Oleh compose a list of 12 things we appreciate and love about living in Israel and email our message to 12 (or 120) friends abroad. Last year David and I sent out a letter called “12+1” (if you’d like it, let me know). Here are our 12 for this year:


1. The education-yes, you read correctly. The Jewish education here is excellent. Secular, too. Our graduates become Nobel Prize winners, develop companies that attract a disproportionate amount of foreign business investment and Israel is depended upon for the next great medical breakthrough. Educating children anywhere is difficult. Look in any bookstore in the states; there are shelves of guides to help both parent and child overcome obstacles and get the most out of their schooling. In what other place do Jewish parents have so many opportunities to educate their children al pi darko, according to their ways? Here, parents tell me they love that they can choose the school and educational system that most suits their child. They do struggle with the decisions, but they have a decision to make. (And notice, I did not even mention tuition.)

2. We are surrounded by enemies who want us wiped off the face of the earth, and the best thing is that we know exactly who, and often where, they are. Random acts of violence are rare. Terrorist attacks are devised and planned, but before they are executed, they are usually thwarted. Baruch Hashem.

3. Tourists are everywhere, crowding the alleyways and thoroughfares, littering and talking loudly in the streets. They fill up the restaurants, empty the shops, and give parnassa to the street cleaners. We wake up every morning in their once-in-a-lifetime destination.

4. The government of Israel wants us to be a nation like all other nations. Besrat Hashem it WILL be. --despite what we “see in the news,” we are witness to a Divine Plan that will end when we are deserving of a leadership that represents the highest of ethical standards. Those which emanate from our eternal constitution, the Torah. Then we will be the nation that all other nations want to be like.

5. The kids have to serve in the army. We recently had the zechus of having a Shabbat meal with 18, 19 and 20 year old chayalim, soldiers, from both observant and non-observant homes. They exhibited more character, maturity, focus, dedication and wisdom than any young person to whom I have spoken in my life. Our children would do well to have these middos surrounding them.

6. Little kids run around without any supervision. And most of them are very well behaved. They look after younger siblings, they scoot out to the makolet to get milk for breakfast in the morning, and teens don’t spend hours on cellphones because they are always with their friends.

7. The buses rule the roads. They roar around, twisting, zooming, making impossible turns. They take us anywhere and everywhere. Those standing, stumble as the bus careens, and someone catches them. Mothers give their babies over to “strangers” as they fold their strollers and walk away to pay the driver. Young girls get up and tell not so young women to take their seat. Men move next to other men so women can sit together; this is so that everyone’s dignity is preserved. Simply put, the passengers on any bus in Israel are sharing the ride of their life.

8. Not knowing the language well is an opportunity to make someone’s day. I often find myself waiting for a bus with an elderly woman who knows not a syllable of English but wants a little connection to another Jewish woman. I try my hardest to tell her, using the 50 or so words I know, what I can about my life. When she helps me with my Ivrit, she feels needed, it’s the best. I met an ancient wrinkled beauty from Iraq, a sweet toothy woman from Russia and a 6th generation Israeli and her 88 year old younger sister that way. Plus, I picked up a few new words in the process.

9. The best jobs and special deals are discovered through the good ‘ol boy network and that is hard to get into. To break in, you have to be--an olah. We help each other find jobs, tutors, movers, doctors, ulpans, lawyers. We find a bargain or or hit upon a good idea and we share it on our local anglo yahoogroups. We promote olah business on http://www.nbnbusiness.co.il/ ,give recommendations on http://israeleasy.blogspot.com/ and list resources with maps on http://israelataclick.com/ All in English. It’s a great club, and no secret handshake.

10. I love that there are no long thin lines in Israel. If you expect to be waited on first come first serve, you are mistaken. Once we got here we realized it was best just to get over it. My take on it is that we are like a family; it really is not rudeness. It’s a cultural thing--like no personal space. Because we are family, there is no “alone space,” either. People care enough to tell us how to dress, how take care of our kids, our health and our relationship with our spouse. And if one is ever in need of help, lo aleinu, the shoving stops and our family is right there to take care of us.

11. Yes, there are indeed giants here. Giants of Torah. And we have the opportunity to gaze upon them every day.

12. Finally, the only best thing about living in Israel is that we are home, where every Jew belongs, where our Loving Father longs for our return.

Well, those are our 12 for this year. You might not agree that all of these are good reasons to live here, but please, as a tikkun for the spies don’t say anything. Life in Israel, like anywhere has its trials. Within our trials lies the opportunity for our greatness. Doing mitzvot with joy, being kind and merciful to one another and judging every Jew favorably will end this exile, the most difficult trial of all. Then the best thing about living in Israel will be that all of YOU will get to come home soon.

Love,
Renee and David ...