אוירא דארץ ישראל Avira DEretz Yisroel

A Shameless Plug for Meitzad

Making an Impact

Mordechai Fast, Meitzad

My first exposure to Eretz Yisroel was at the age of fourteen when my family came for a visit, and though I did return to the States excited about Eretz Yisroel, my next opportunity to come here was only a few years later as a post high school yeshivah bochur.

I had been learning in Ner Yisroel in Baltimore when a few of my friends from there had gone to a new yeshivah in Yerushalayim for American bochurim, so I took the opportunity to join them, especially since I also liked the learning mehalech [learning style] of that yeshivah. After about two years in the yeshivah, I went back to Baltimore and started shidduchim, and although I was excited about the idea of living in Eretz Yisroel, I knew it would depend on what my future wife would want.

My wife had been to Eretz Yisroel on a frum Birthright trip which was arranged within the framework of her seminary, so she had only been in Eretz Yisroel for a few weeks. Though she was also excited about living here, we decided we would try it out first before committing to establish ourselves. We arrived after Pesach. For our first Yom Tov here we kept two days, but by that following Sukkos, we were keeping only one day.

We first lived in the Yerushalayim neighborhood where the yeshivah was located, but four months later, the yeshivah moved to Beitar Illit. Most of the yeshivah’s fifty kollel families, as well as about thirty bochurim, moved with the yeshivah, and we moved along with them.

Eretz Yisroel has many communities built around yeshivos. When one comes to Eretz Yisroel to be part of a yeshivah, he is usually going to be part of the yeshivah‘s community as well. As many young kollel couples are here alone without family, being part of a community—at least for the first few years—is an absolute necessity. Without such support, it would be difficult to survive. I can easily see how one can feel “lost” here without family or community support.

We lived in Beitar for about twelve years. Although there were still people my age drifting around the yeshivah and its kehillah, for some of us it was down to only davening with the yeshivah for the Yamim Nora’im. The yeshivah consisted of mostly bochurim and young avreichim, and although there still was a community feel, we were outgrowing the community and were ready to move on to the next stage. We were at a point in our lives when we were more involved with raising our own family and less connected to that community.

Having been here for several years, we were already used to living here in Eretz Yisroel. For a while, we had been davening in a shul which included both Americans and Israelis. We also had Israeli acquaintances and coworkers. All of this made us familiar and comfortable with the Israeli mentality and culture. This was a result of living in Beitar where the population is primarily Israeli Chareidi. This might not have happened had we chosen to live in some of the more Americanized neighborhoods of Yerushalayim. Another advantage of living in Beitar is that although it is a fully functioning city, it does not have the same nostalgic feeling as Yerushalayim, which prevents some of its residents—who cannot afford to buy there—from moving out to more affordable places. Our expanded horizons meant that we had more housing options.

Bechasdei HaShem, we were paying less than the market rental price all through our stay in Beitar. After ten years though, we decided that we really did want to own our own home. Ideally, we would have wanted to stay in Beitar, but for the price of the smallest three-bedroom apartment there, we bought a large, new, and private five-bedroom house, surrounded by half a dunam [over 5300 square feet] of our own private yard, in the nearby Chareidi town of Meitzad.

At the time, there were seventy families in Meitzad. Besides for the spacious living quarters, we were attracted by the prospect of helping to build a community which is still in development. Every opinion counts here, and so, you can do more to shape and drive the direction of the community while interacting with the people “on the bottom.” Being from Seattle, I was a witness to this kind of dynamic, where my father was on the shul board and the president of the kollel for many years.

Another added value of living in Meitzad is the fact that we’re making an impact on the Jewish hold of Eretz Yisroel. Meitzad is a half-hour drive further into the “West Bank” [Yehuda and Shomron] than Beitar Illit. Interesting to note though, while Yerushalayim has quite a few Arabs in its eastern section, and Beitar has an Arab village right across the road, I feel much safer in the yishuv of Meitzad, with no Arabs in sight. Although we once did have rocks thrown at our car on the road coming to Meitzad (no damage), overall, I think it’s actually safer here.

We’re not the only ones who have found Meitzad to be attractive. We’re in Meitzad for a year and a half already and another thirty families have joined. Most of the residents are Israeli, but there is a substantial percentage of English speakers here as well.

Buy!

When we first came to Beitar, we rented an apartment. Although we were considering buying one like many others in our yeshivah‘s kehillah did, in the end, we invested our money in real estate in the US. This was just before the subprime crisis and it took ten years to break even on our initial investment. The sale prices for housing in Beitar skyrocketed. By that time, a suitable apartment in Beitar would have cost a lot more than we would want to pay. In hindsight, we really should originally have bought in Beitar.

I think it’s worthwhile to buy as soon as you’ve decided where in Eretz Yisroel you want to establish yourself. This way, you won’t have to move around and can really settle yourself here.

Dear Diaspora Philanthropists: We Need Your PRESENCE Even More Than Your Presents…

Inspiration and Purpose

Yehoshua Wiseman, Beis Yisroel, Yerushalayim

The blossoming of this Land of HaShem is a source of inspiration for me. It can be in the fields, by the trees, around the streams of water. In can be of the new Jewish homes being built, both the ones made of brick and mortar and the ones made of a chosson and kallah. As for the physical homes being built, I recently had the opportunity to say the bracha of Baruch Matziv Gevul Almanah [reinstating the border of the widow], said upon seeing a new neighborhood in Eretz Yisroel, with Sheimand Malchus [HaShem’s Name and Kingship—Elokeinu Melech ha’olam]. As for the Jewish homes of new chassanim and kallahs—at every wedding here, when “Od Yishama” is sung, I practically cry. For some things, we don’t need faith here; we can actually witness the fulfillment of age-old prophecies in front of our eyes.

Eretz Yisroel is a Land of nissim. Of course, HaShem’s hashgacha is everywhere, but over here we really feel His hand while being cradled in His embrace. Every Jew who lives here can tell you how they feel and see His hashgacha in matters of chinuch, parnassah, and many other areas. I have personally seen so many miracles here with parnassah that they could probably fill an entire book. In this Land of emunah, HaShem guides you to find the resources for whatever you need. A reaction to your missing needs might include going to the koselto daven, saying tehillim, and singing to HaShem, to help make yourself a kli[vessel] for the reception of HaShem’s bracha and hashgacha. If only for that, it would be worthwhile to live here. I also think that because of this closeness to HaShem, people here are happier.

The light of Torah seems to shine much more here. In chutz laAretz you may read about Avraham Avinu, but here, you can see where he walked and lived. You can go on a tiyul [trip] with the children and trace the footsteps of the personalities from Tanach. I feel there is more sincerity here. The discussions taking place here are more often about purpose in life and other such elevated subjects.

Yes, there is a strong battle going on here about the essence of Eretz Yisroel and Am Yisroel. Is a goy whose grandfather may have been Jewish, which the secular State is often importing to the country, considered a Jew? Is Eretz Yisroel the fertile ground for fulfilling Am Yisroel’s national mission of being a mamleches kohanim ve’goy kadosh [holy and priestly nation] and an ohr la’amim [light unto the nations]?

Opening the gates for goyim is definitely an accursed part of the “Law of Return” of this still secular State, causing a serious problem of intermarriage that it doesn’t yet seem to be bothered about. The fact that the law does allow for any Jew to come here is of course a blessing, but it must be utilized by each and every one. Every Torah observant Jew who is here pushes out more of the sitra achara [lit. other side; forces of evil]. Every Jew is critical in tipping the scales towards the G-dly enterprise of the supreme dominion and revelation of Torah. This is a great zechus, but it’s also an obligation. We must be involved not only in our own issues, but also together as a nation in our Heavenly ordained joint enterprise.

A Jew needs mesirus nefesh to fight for a stronghold for kedusha and for raising the banner of Torah above this Land. Although it is a battle, we have here with us what Dovid HaMelech would say, “HaShem tzilcha al yad yeminecha” [HaShem is your shadow on your right hand]. We can feel “ke’ilu amaram Dovid HaMelech” [as if Dovid HaMelech himself had said those words (from the supplication after recitation of Tehillim)] for our own struggles, as he would for his own.

I’ve heard people say that if there weren’t Jewish philanthropists in America, we would have no yeshivos here in Eretz Yisroel. I am sure that if all those people who are keeping the Torah were physically here, they would have much more of an impact on the government’s priorities.

Many tourists come to visit my painting studio in the Old City. I try to pass my inspiration onto the canvas, with the intent of in turn inspiring the viewer, whether to aspire to higher levels of avodas HaShem, to arouse their love for Eretz Yisroel, or to increase their yearning for the Geula [Redemption] and for the Beis HaMikdash. I have goyish tourists who express interest in the paintings of visibly observant Jews davening in a forest or other such portrayals of authentic Jewish life. Even the goyim feel that this is the real thing, the epitome of dignity, the ideal aspiration for kedusha. This is the truth about the observant Jew, and it contrasts starkly with the images created by some “outsider” non-observant artists who portray images of old and sad people. Those who keep the Torah are the real and vibrant expression of Jewish life—where is there a more proper place to express it on a national level than in Eretz Yisroel?

Languages

When I first came to Eretz Yisroel as a searching college student, I made it a point to immerse myself with Israelis, so I would know how to speak the language and otherwise get along easily here. It was then that I got to see many frum people from up close, something that had not happened in my hometown of Pasadena, California. It did not take too long for me to decide that I would also become observant.

Although I eventually ended up marrying an Israeli, I try to speak English at home, so my kids can know enough English to get by if they need it, even if they’re not fluent in it.

Making Aliyah Is a Lot Like Becoming Generally Observant

An Investment that Pays Off

Avraham Shusteris, Ramat Beit Shemesh

As a Jew, I always felt that Eretz Yisroel is where I belong. It is where I would want to raise my children, and it is where I feel that I can live even a simple and mundane life with a purpose. It’s a place where a Jew can reach his full potential.

I got married in wife’s hometown of Montreal, and started off after in Monsey, NY. We had been considering immigrating to Eretz Yisroel for several years and always had an excuse to push the idea off, with each push-off amounting to another delay. Eventually we concluded that unless we just took the leap, we would always find a reason to procrastinate.

I remember that before I became a baal teshuva, I always knew that I wanted to keep Shabbos and live an authentic Jewish life, but I wasn’t ready just yet. It was a goal and an ideal that I didn’t think was practical for the immediate future, though it was something that I knew was the right thing to do and something that I hoped to achieve at some point in the future. Once I eventually became observant, moving to Eretz Yisroel took on the same characteristics. I knew that was where I was meant to be as a Jew, but I didn’t think it was a practical target for the immediate future and was more of a long term goal that I kept kicking down the road.

The same inner voice that told me that Torah was emes, also told me that Eretz Yisroel is where I am meant to live. I didn’t have much support from my immediate circle of friends and family when I became frum, so I wasn’t discouraged when I did not receive any support from my friends and mentors in my community when I told them that I wanted to move to Eretz Yisroel.

When I approached people for advice about moving to Eretz Yisroel, each one gave his own reason why it wasn’t practical. One person told me that it would be hard to find parnassah and that giving up a great job in NY would be irresponsible. Another said that moving would be hard on the kids and I would be risking having them go off the derech. Yet another suggested that the language barrier would be too difficult to maneuver—would my wife be able to find a job—and would I find a community and rav that would be suitable for my unique needs? Although with everyone pointing to a specific issue without concern for the others, it seemed that there was no one universally accepted reason not to move.

I didn’t take these concerns lightly. I decided that I would do the proper hishtadlus and try to tackle each one of these issue on its own. It took many phone calls, pilot trips, and research, but ultimately, I did enough research to feel comfortable that we were making the right decision.

As part of our research, we contacted several families who had recently moved from Monsey to Ramat Beit Shemesh to get their advice and learn from their experiences. This was an extremely helpful experience, which led me to initiate the Naava Kodesh volunteer network, connecting Americans who dream of living in Eretz Yisroel with those who originate from their hometowns and have established themselves in the various Torah communities here in Eretz Yisroel. The Naava Kodesh volunteers offer advice, support, and guidance. Besides for Monsey, there are volunteers from a host of other cities including Lakewood, Baltimore, Passaic, and Queens. Getting advice from people who share a common language, lifestyle and profession is essential to properly understand the different options available here for community, education, and parnassah.

We worked with various governmental agencies to allow my wife to transfer her American nursing degree. We made two pilot trips, in which we met with several different schools that we thought might be suitable for our children, and lined up several job interviews for ourselves to see what the job market was like. We had many meetings with real estate agents to find apartment rentals. We met with rabbonim from the relevant communities and got valuable advice about schools, the specific areas in Ramat Beit Shemesh we were interested in hearing about, and more.

Even after all of these efforts, I still faced significant nisyonos. A few months before we were to move, I was given significant financial incentive to stay, while simultaneously having to deal with the threat of losing a significant portion of my life savings if I were to make the move. This would have left me almost completely broke. I came to the realization that if I really wanted to move here, I would have to take a leap of faith that things would work out. Baruch HaShem, they did. With HaShem’s help, the heavy investment we made in research paid off, and our move was very smooth.

Though from late afternoon until midnight I work as an accountant for a US company, my day here in Ramat Beit Shemesh starts with learning at Yeshivas HaGra. They have learning programs that cater to varied levels of experience in a warm and welcoming, friendly yet structured environment. The time I spend at this yeshiva has really become the highlight of my personal aliyah experience. The combination of a fantastic, brilliant, and encouraging rebbi, a great chavrusa, and a friendly chabura,make it the perfect place for me.

Pleasantly Surprised

I was surprised by the amount of local job opportunities in accounting for myself and in nursing for my wife. I was surprised at how helpful many of the locals were to new immigrants, specifically via the local online groups. I was surprised at how quickly my children adapted to both the language and the culture in their schools. I was surprised at how smooth the transition was in comparison to the horror stories I heard from people back in the States who urged me to reconsider our move.

‘Eretz Yisroel Has a Homey Jewish Feel’

For Living Jews, Too!

Gedaliah O., Old City, Yerushalayim

My family immigrated to Eretz Yisroel when I was seven years old. We were a regular frum American balebatish family from Manhattan. My parents had lived here eighteen years earlier for a very short while, while volunteering on a kibbutz.

A year before we moved, we came to Eretz Yisroel on a pilot trip. At some of the American families we stayed by, the children did not speak any English. My father would never forget that, and he made it a rule that in our house we’d only speak English.

Before leaving America, my parents hired a tutor to teach me some Hebrew. He taught me maybe thirty words. Though it was of some assistance to me, it was still quite difficult when I arrived here.

When I started school in Eretz Yisroel, I had no idea what was going on. After a while, I started having some minor social issues there, so I transferred to another school. I had a few friends there and attended ulpan [school for learning the Hebrew language].

We had started out in a merkaz klita [absorption center] in Mevaseret Tzion near Yerushalayim. We then moved to permanent housing in the town of Kochav Yaakov. It is considered a Torani town, meaning that the people there are Torah observant, though from various backgrounds and sects, ranging from Dati-Leumi [National Religious] to Chareidi. Across the road is the entirely Chareidi town of Tel Zion. Today there are many children from Kochav Yaakov that attend the institutions there—but that was built only several years later. I started attending a Dati-Leumi school in nearby Maale Michmash.

Though by the time we moved I had already completed third grade, the principal of the new school suggested I join their school’s third grade, since it was a small class with only seven other children. If I would have gone to fourth grade, I would have been in a much larger class with twenty kids. This choice served me well. Additionally, because my new rebbi was extremely dedicated to his job, I was so successful. He basically didn’t know any English, and I knew very little Hebrew, yet within a month I was filling out the biurei millim [word explanations] worksheet with simple Hebrew instead of translating it all into English, thanks to his determination.

After a year in yeshiva ketana, I was having some difficulty in integrating into the surrounding society, so I went back to America to learn in the Yeshiva of Bayonne. I also wanted some secular studies, and this way I got them in a Chareidi environment. In the U.S., I skipped to a higher grade, as the level in Eretz Yisroel is higher. I had an older brother that learned there, and I have a married sister who lives in Brooklyn where I would go for an off-Shabbos. My parents had kept a business in the States, so they would fly in occasionally and I would get to see them. They would also fly every Sukkos to my grandparents in Phoenix, and I would join them from Bayonne. Some of my hashkafah as well as my Chareidi attire has stuck with me from my time in Bayonne.

After finishing high school in Bayonne, I came back to Eretz Yisroel and attended a small yeshiva until I got married. I then started learning in R’ Nechemia Kaplan’s yeshiva.

For the first year of marriage, we lived in the Sanhedria neighborhood of Yerushalayim. We then moved to Maaleh HaZeitim, where we lived for the next five years.

Maaleh HaZeitim is a cluster of small Jewish neighborhoods on Har HaZeisim. In addition to hosting the famous Jewish cemetery, there are a lot of Arabs around—some not so very friendly—so I would keep a small stone in my pocket. However, in the course of five years I never ended up having to use it even once. The Jewish presence in the area has greatly reduced the rampant vandalism to Jewish tombstones that was once a normalcy.

In addition to being the resting place of many great tzaddikim, the Har HaZeisim cemetery is also a reminder of the time when people would come to Eretz Yisroel to spend their last days here. Today, B”H, Eretz Yisroel is a place for living Jews and for Jewish living, too!

The country has advanced immensely over the past 25 years. Besides for the gashmiyus side of things—new roads, highways, trains, technology, etc—there are hundreds of yeshivos; various learning programs like avos uvanim and “Yeshivas Mordechai HaTzaddik” [the Purim learning program] are very popular here. Although it is much more acceptable for Chareidim to work than it was thirty years ago, there are not less people learning because of that, considering the immense Chareidi population growth.

There are Chareidi programs for learning trades and for frum people who want to earn degrees. The country accommodates accreditation from other countries; it is a process to get the accreditation recognized, but it is doable. I have a sister-in-law who was licensed to be a nurse in the US, took a test here, and she is now a nurse in Eretz Yisroel.

I find Eretz Yisroel has an enjoyable “homey” Jewish feel—people walking around with taleisim and sometimes tefillin, the Shabbos siren going off at candle-lighting time, a lot of simchas and other Jewish activities all make up this wonderful atmosphere where Jewish people and Jewish living are valued.

Economics Observation

I remember overhearing a conversation between my sister and sister-in-law, one of whom lives in Eretz Yisroel and the other who is still in chutz laAretz. They were discussing the financial differences between both places.

Their bottom line was that it could be the same game in either place for a standard family to make the effort to make ends meet. While one of them made quite a respectable living in the US, after tuition for four kids, maintenance for two cars, housing, and other expenses, not much remained. The one in Eretz Yisroel was earning less than a quarter the amount but was also spending exponentially less on education—and the tremendously lower cost of medical care, a wedding, a bris, or kiddush also cannot be compared.

There really isn’t more money in the US because it’s also needed much more. When there is a bit left over, it goes much further here.

Leave the Goyim and Join Your Brethren in the Jewish Heartland!

Not Just a Spectator

Yedidyah B., Yerushalayim

B”H, I am happily raising my family in Yerushalayim, making a living running a business I started, and learning Torah as well. Honestly, though, all of this is not something I take for granted.

I grew up in a regular American yeshivish home in a frum community in New Jersey. I am fortunate to have ended up living in Eretz Yisroel, but from a class of fifteen kids in cheider, I’m the only one so far. One of the kids in my class unfortunately ended up marrying a shiksa r”l. I am very troubled by the thought that the same percentage of the American chinuch system’s complete failures — at least concerning my class — is also the same percentage of those who have succeeded in coming to live in Eretz Yisroel. I am still contemplating why this is so.

Anyone who has gone through the chinuch system has been exposed to Torah, shas and poskim. Therefore, the centrality of Eretz Yisroel must surely be so very clear to them. How can they not want to live in Eretz Yisroel? People are busy with chumros in all sorts of things, so why is living in Eretz Yisroel left out—even if it might not be an absolute chovah?

I came to Eretz Yisroel in 2003 at the age of nineteen. I liked the yeshivos in America, but the love of Eretz Yisroel brought me here. I started out in a small yeshiva in Yerushalayim catering to American bochurim. I quickly realized that if I really wanted to stay in Eretz Yisroel, it would be best to integrate into the Israeli Chareidi system and culture, so I decided to make the jump into an Israeli yeshiva.

I attended the famous Ponevezh yeshiva in Bnei Brak for a year and a half. When I first arrived there, I only knew some basic “siddur” Hebrew, and I had to pick up the language quickly; basically overnight. It was the best ulpan [school for learning the Hebrew language] and merkaz klita [integration center] into the Israeli Chareidi world. I had the most amazing time of my life in Bnei Brak, with exposure to the rich Torah center and its special personalities.

Now living in Yerushalayim, I am part and parcel of the Israeli Chareidi community with all of its pros and cons. (Of course, what constitutes a pro or a con is a matter of personal opinion and a question of priorities.) For example, I would be happy if my kids knew a bit more math, but we made a decision that it is more important to be part of the Chareidi community and not feel different. My kids are well integrated, so much so that they don’t feel like “American” kids at all. Proof is, my daughter did not elect to be placed with the dovrot [English speakers] group.

Here in Eretz Yisroel the Torah becomes alive. When discussing the Me’aras HaMachpelah from the weekly parsha, it isn’t something we just read about—we were actually in Chevron recently, looking at what was the sadeh that Avrohom Avinu bought. For us in Yerushalayim, the absence of a sheep for the korban pesach is glaring. The Beis HaMikdash is a real concept, waiting to be rebuilt on the Har HaBayis behind the Kosel HaMa’aravi.

There was a time in recent history when Eretz Yisroel needed Yidden to come here to make it happen. Today we are at a point where much has already been built up here, both physically and in a Torah sense. The center of the Torah world—including prestigious yeshivos, respected and widely recognized batei din, rabbonim of world-renowned stature—is now here in Eretz Yisroel. Despite that, Eretz Yisroel still needs you; the more frum Americans here, the greater our influence would be on what’s happening here. Realize on one hand that there is great opportunity here, and on the other hand, it’s you, your children and family who are missing out by not being here. It’s your choice to jump on the train and be a part of history in-the-making, or just to watch it as an outside spectator. As my ninth-grade rebbi would say, “You can make a cow thirsty and bring it to the freshwater lake, but you cannot make it drink.”

I have come across many older people visiting here—some who come as often as three times a year, many who even own apartments here. I often hear them saying how they would love to retire here and how lucky I am to live here. The reason many of them are not staying to live here is because they have children and grandchildren settled back in the U.S. If the chinuch for the value of living in Eretz Yisroel doesn’t have a big enough impact on the younger generation, they won’t make the move. Not only will they miss out, but the older generation might just find themselves stuck there in America, dreams unfulfilled.

On a practical note for those who do want to come, I recommend first finding a suitable community to be a part of, carefully considering the pros and cons (especially including the school system) you are willing to deal with. This doesn’t mean you have to give up your identity. Contrary to popular belief, there is a tremendous amount of diversity within the frum world here. Just stick to your community’s guidelines though, and don’t count on changing the system. For the kids, it’s especially important that they not remain outsiders.

So many Goyim!

My father is descended from the Zoref-Salomon family who were very involved in yishuv Eretz Yisroel. Our ancestor R’ Shlomo Zalman Zoref was instrumental in getting permission for Ashkenazi Jews to live in Yerushalayim almost two hundred years ago. To his signature on a document now on display in the Churva shul’s lobby, he appended “ish Yerushalayim” [man of Yerushalayim].

The connection to Eretz Yisroel must be in our genes. On a recent trip to America, I was sure my ten-year-old daughter would have a good time. But it didn’t take long for her to want to go back home, as, in her words, “It’s freezing here and there are so many goyim!”

Reprinted with permission from Avira D’Eretz Yisroel.