Pros;
1. Israel is very sunny. I like the sun. My Seasonal Affective Disorder would be greatly reduced.
2. Israel
is a big importer of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Ice cream is one of
my favourite foods and it appears to be more acceptable to eat it when
the sun is shining, rather than when it's raining.
Cons;
1. Israeli chocolate is no match for Cadburys.
2. Israel has no Tesco. Tesco is my favourite place.
3. The television is in Hebrew. For a TV addict who doesn’t speak Hebrew, (that would be me), this is a problem.
But the weather in the UK was getting worse, (something to do with global warming), so we decided to go.
We
heard that a town called Ra’anana was the best place to be if you had
zero Hebrew knowledge, so we decided to live there. I hadn’t paid much
attention at Cheder 35 years ago, and although our kids had attended
Jewish schools, their Hebrew was limited to singing Anim Zemirot and
reciting the Shema. If we were going to have any chance of a successful
Aliyah, we thought it best not to mix with any Israelis at all for the first ten years, and stick with the Anglos.
Husband
and I knew Aliyah was the right decision, but explaining to a 16 year
old girl, and 14 and 11 year old boys, why we were moving to a country
where we didn’t actually know anyone
and where they spoke a foreign language was - tricky. Teenage Daughter
immediately declared she ‘wasn’t coming’. She was moving in with her
best friend, her life was ‘ruined’, and she was ‘never speaking to us
again’.
So far, so good.
Middle Son was 100% on board. His one condition was he didn’t want to go to school ever again and wanted to spend his days surfing. He was 14 at the time, so attending school was a bit of
an issue, but it appeared to be a deal breaker. It was at this point I
made the best parental decision I could. I lied. It was the only way to
get him on the plane. I assured him that of course he didn’t have to go to school ever again, not a problem. And I bought him a surf board.
Youngest Son was really looking forward to it, as long as all his friends could come too.
Packing
day was fun. Teenage Daughter lay sobbing and clinging onto her
mattress as it was physically dragged out of the house. We had sadly
turned down her request to live with best friend, (turned out best
friends parents weren’t totally on
board). She continued with her lamentations - ‘worst parents in the
world’, ‘life was ruined’, ‘never speaking to us again’ - and the
sobbing turned to wailing as she watched her stuff get packed into the
Big Metal Box transporting our belongings across the sea. I politely
enquired with the removal company whether Teenage Daughter could travel
in Big Metal Box instead of flying with us, but apparently human beings
weren’t allowed, due to some insurance problem or something.
We
had four weeks until Departure Day living in a completely empty house.
There was no TV (a major problem for me – see above - proper TV addict),
nor was there any crockery or cooking utensils (not a
major problem for me, cooking has never been my thing). So we passed
the time discussing where Youngest Son’s friends were going to live
(apparently they were all sleeping in his room), and watching Middle Son
practice his newly discovered surfing skills down the stairs.
D
Day arrived. We made it to the airport in spite of having to manoeuvre
15 suitcases and three kids. Teenage Daughter was still wailing – ‘life
ruined, worst parents, never speaking to us again…’, - so once we were
on the plane and the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign had been turned off, we
locked her in the toilet.
Old Blighty disappeared behind the horizon, and I had a moment of sudden panic that this was a one way flight. How was I getting home? It took a moment before I realised I wasn’t actually going home, well not to the place I had called home for over 40 years. I was going to a new home.
I
drifted off into a blissful reverie of sun, sea, sand, hummous and
falafel.........until I was rudely awakened by the El Al air hostess
roughly prodding my arm.
Her voice crept into my dream. ‘Mrs Sugarman? Mrs Sugarman? It’s your children.’
“Yes,
yes, children, what? Did I forget them?’ (Had Big Metal Box people
changed their mind and taken Teenage Daughter with them?)
‘Sorry
to bother you, just a few things…could you remove your daughter from
the toilet? Other passengers are waiting. Also, your son seems to think
it’s OK to use the plane aisle for surfing. And get your youngest out
the cockpit. He’s telling the pilot to go back. Apparently we left his
friends behind.’
Hmmmm. Aliyah was going to be fun.
Such a great read Joanne. You are incredibly brave. I'm looking forward to reading the next chapter. Vx
ReplyDeleteJo, I can't beleive you knew no one ? Look at you all now. It's been rough, but slowly you're all getting there. We love having you here! Bet it won't be long before your kids are singing the virtues of Aliya back to their friends they left behind in Londonistan 😃
ReplyDeleteOh, so true, none of us really think about it enough, we just catch the aliyah wave and arrive. Seeing you all now, getting on with life and still very much a family, makes the above even more humorous! Your kids look amazing and less TV seems to suit you.
ReplyDeleteThe most powerful point of this story is the one way flight. cheapest parking gatwick
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