Step-by-Step: Making Aliyah to Israel

Documenting the very personal process of making Aliyah (immigration to Israel) by one very atypical Israeli-American girl. Aliyah on 17, August, 2005. Roadmap: What do you mean there's no roadmap?! Hang on, we're in for a bumpy ride! Ole!

Sunday, February 27, 2005

A surprising phone call happened tonight from my mother. The first words out of her mouth were, "I picked up a newspaper today and I suppose you've heard about the attack in Tel Aviv..." Yes, of course. I expected this to be followed by a lot of "are you sure"s and "maybe you should reconsider"s. Instead I got, "have you also heard about all the anti-semitism that is sprouting up in the Soviet Union?" (Yes, of course) and several other examples of recent goings-ons in Europe from her and then, "I really think you are doing the right thing. Just please be careful and don't go out to clubs very often."

She also said she's thought about it and thinks I might be safer in Tel Aviv than here in the States because Israel has suicide attacks but not often the general run of the mill nutburger criminal murders and attacks like we have all the time here in the States. Of course, given that a guy tried to break into her house this afternoon while she was home (she tells me at the end of the conversation!) might have coloured her opinion at least for the moment.

So then we got to exchange police stories because the police were also here at my apartment today. They knocked on my door wanting to know if I knew "this guy" and showed me a driver's license they took out of a wallet. The address was listed as my address. Never saw the guy before. We went down and asked the old codger who has lived here since the beginning of time --literally since he was 5 and he is now retired and obsessed with recycling but that's another story. He said he'd never seen the guy before and that he certainly hadn't lived here. After they left we scratched our heads ...This is New York and cops don't come to personally try to deliver lost wallets. And how and why did his license list my address?! No clue, no clue. I so wanted to be a fly on the wall in their cop car to find out what that was all about.

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