aliyah.

I'M HERE!

Great things?
Being asked by El Al security to explain the meaning of my last name (which could be thought of as an Israeli last name), when in reality it's of French origin.

Being asked maybe five million times by the Birthright group on my flight if I was part of their group. Their staff was asking me why I wasn't wearing my nametag, the participants were introducing themselves and asking my name as if we were about to embark on an adventure together, and several times they tried to call me over to join their little huddle of rule explanations. They even tried to give me a fucking count-off number. I AM NOT ON FUCKING BIRTHRIGHT!

Getting into a huge argument with taxi driver. He had no idea where the street in Jerusalem I was trying to get to was, but he refused to consult my map. I told him that I found the exact [fucking] location on the map and would he please look at it? And he totally refused. And we got into a yelling match in Hebrew over it. In the end, he never did look at my map and we ended up driving around Jerusalem for like an extra 20 or 30 minutes asking random Haredi men (we were in Mea Shearim) if they knew how to get to the proper street, and they would sometimes be helpful but usually ended their directions with a stern look.
But before that, we managed to somehow get well into the West Bank--like, not the part of the West Bank that the road from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem clips. I mean, with checkpoints everywhere and enormous fortress-like walls.....I'm not gonna lie, it was a little bit exciting, especially when I saw a sign for Ramallah

Finally getting to the hostel and finding out that I had to carry my three heavy suitcases, the ones with all of my life's worth crammed in, and my heavy backpack up three flights of stairs. And when I finally got to the top, I took a moment to catch my breath....and accidentally knocked over my 70-pound bag. It fell down one flight of stairs, and I thought that would be it. Oh no. Then it bounced off the wall and fell down a second flight of stairs. And I thought THEN it would be over, but my suitcase bounced off another wall and fell down a third and final flight of stairs. It was one of the most tragic things I've ever witnessed.

Oh, by the way, I'm not sure why they make such a big deal about the whole getting processed as an immigrant at Ben Gurion thing. It was actually really quick, and I'm kind of sad about that because it meant I didn't have time to have a pee....which was really upsetting, because (like dogs) I really enjoy peeing in different places.
Also, my teudat oleh picture? I am as sweaty as fuck. I didn't have too much space left in my suitcase so I was wearing a lot of layers.....and oh my christ I could not stop sweating. I'm so glad that every single time I flash my teudat oleh from now until my immigrant rights expire (which is many years from now), everyone can stop and take a moment to remember how goddamn sweaty I was.


Well team....that's all. Tonight I took a walk down to the Old City and strolled down (or up?) Ben Yehuda, watching a small group of Nachman guys dancing.......Ahhhh....thank G-d I'm back.

EDIT: So at the ministry of absorption at the airport, they give you basically a bag of thick pamphlets geared towards helping olim. Most of them are pretty relevant, like information on how to register for health care, or where to go for employment help, or how to register for an ulpan. Except for ONE pamphlet, entitled, "Safety Recommendatons for Swimming in the Sea." So, thank you Misrad HaKlita for watching my back, even when I'm swimming in the ocean and it has nothing to do with being an immigrant