In Praise of Real Immigrants

We were prepared for the worst this week. Dealing with bureaucracies is never easy, and Israel’s sometimes has a reputation for being worse than America’s.  So it was with some trepidation (albeit pretty small) that we trekked off to the Misrad HaPnim (Ministry of the Interior) to apply for our visas.  

At Misrad HaPnim

The tourist visas you receive upon entering the country are only good for three months, and Seth and Zoe needed to apply for student visas (Sheryl getting a special “rider” on Seth’s).  We were told that we would have to go to the office, where we would make an appointment for 6-8 weeks in the future.

In fact, they were ready to take us that day.  Unfortunately, we didn’t expect this and so didn’t have all our paperwork with us.  Still, they made an appointment for us just a few days later, and so today (Sunday) we went back.  We got called right on time -- already not what you expect in Israel -- and Einav couldn’t have been friendlier or more helpful, not at all the stereotype of a bureaucratic official.  Although we are not quite finished (we have to have another department verify that we are Jewish), Einav promised that it will all be quite simple when we return in a month, and that if we ever come back for an extended stay it will be even easier.

As bad as we thought this might be, it never occurred to us that it was anything compared to what it means to be a real immigrant, let alone a refugee.   This week’s Torah reading contains Moshe’s sad recounting of his failed pleading with God to be allowed to “immigrate” to the Land of Israel and the Jewish people’s eventual exile from the land.  It seems appropriate that also this week, Nefesh B’Nefesh, where Hannah works, greeted it’s last plane of the summer.  It was Hannah’s last flight working for NBN before beginning Tel Aviv University in November, and the 75 lone soldiers on board helped bring the total of NBN-aided olim to 50,000!

Sometimes we think with awe about our grandparents who immigrated to America.  True, they were leaving behind varying degrees of poverty and Antisemitism, but still, it is hard to imagine the courage it takes to leave everything and everyone you know -- with the recognition that you will never return nor possibly see family and friends ever again -- to start over in a place where you have no immediate prospects, no knowledge of the language, and nowhere to live.  Minnie Teach (Tkach), Robert Rubin (Reuben Kostetsky): these people are our heros.