Making Aliyah Is a Lot Like Becoming Generally Observant

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’

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.

Live in the Mountains – 10 Minutes Away From Jerusalem…

Country Living in a Yerushalayim Suburb

Eliyahu Grumet, Agan HaAyalot

About twelve years ago a friend of ours who went into real estate was selling houses in Agan HaAyalot (also known as Givat Ze’ev HaChadasha) and suggested that we look into buying an apartment there. At that time there were only shells of a few buildings. The neighborhood was originally designed as an expansion of the existing municipality of Givat Zeev, but because there was no interest from the non-religious, it was eventually – and very successfully – remarketed as a Chareidi neighborhood. Its proximity to Yerushalayim and the substantially lower prices of its spacious suburban-style housing—all which is within a sheltered Chareidi enclave with no chillul Shabbos in sight—was a winning combination.

We originally came to Eretz Yisroel after getting married in the US with the idea that we would be here for about five years or so. We thought that buying an apartment would be a good investment even if we would end up moving back, so we signed a contract on one of those shells. We moved into our house when it was fully built three and a-half years later. (Today the pace of construction is much faster.)

After settling down in Agan HaAyalot and realizing we were here to stay, my wife, who had trained and interned here in Eretz Yisroel as a speech therapist in an American program, went through the process of obtaining citizenship and getting licensed so she could legally work here. Her background is very useful here for helping the local English speakers.

Agan HaAyalot translates to “Doe Basin.” Living in the mountains the whole year round, we occasionally get to see some deer running around. I find it to be a very pleasant place to live in, while being close enough to the hustle and bustle of the city (only six miles away) but still like country living. The houses and buildings are spread apart. Many apartments have private entrances and many of the buildings have only four apartments. There is much more space, quiet, and privacy than in nearby Yerushalayim, where the developers are capitalizing on the limited space as much as they can. Here you can buy much more for your money. For about two-million shekels (under $600,000), you can get a four-bedroom apartment between 120 to 140 square meters (1500 square feet). There are private homes being built as well.

The Yerushalayim neighborhood of Ramot with its new and large shopping center is only a ten-minute car ride away, so Agan HaAyalot is really the closest thing to living in Yerushalayim. Most people in Agan HaAyalot have cars, but it is not a necessity. (We lived here without one for several years.) There is a small local shopping center, a hardware store, a toy store, medical offices, and other small businesses. It’s also just a short bus ride to get into Yerushalayim. The bus fare between here and Yerushalayim is even the same as for the inner-city buses in Yerushalayim, so we really are like any other Yerushalayim neighborhood. There are many people here who work or learn in Yerushalayim. There also is a busload of avreichim (with many Americans) going every day directly to the Mir yeshiva.

Most of the English speakers here moved in after deciding to settle down here in Eretz Yisroel after being part of one of the more transient communities in Yerushalayim. Many have learned in Mir, Brisk, Toras Moshe, and other similar Yeshivos. There are some older people who have already married off children and even grandchildren, who moved here after selling more expensive properties in Yerushalayim. In general, though, it is a young community, with most people moving here close to their thirties.

Today there are about nine-hundred families in the neighborhood. About 70% are Hebrew speakers, and 30% are English speakers. The Americans are generally bunched together in the same buildings or on the same block. The two chadarim and one girls’ school serve everyone together. There is an English track in the preschool, but it’s just to ease the transition. They’re eventually integrated into the mainstream system with everyone else.

Community life here is amazing. About five years ago we built an American-style shul/kehillah. Even the furniture in the shul is in the American style, with chairs and tables like in the Agudah-style balebatish shuls back in America. The official language of the shul is Hebrew, so Israelis who want to join can, but most members are English speakers. The Israelis who join are attracted by the warmth and community feel. The rov is English speaking, but came to Eretz Yisroel at the age of three so he has been well integrated into the Israeli Chareidi society. Though his derashos are in Hebrew, he answers shailos in either language.

Our shul is one of twelve shuls in the neighborhood. Six are nusach Ashkenaz, four Sephardic, one nusach Sefard, and one Belz. One of the shuls is a hub for working Israeli Chareidim. Everyone has a place here.

The second-day Yom Tov minyan is at our shul, but it is primarily for family and guests of the residents, because most of the English-speaking locals are here to stay. However, there is an increasing trend of Americans buying vacation homes in the neighborhood—including some parents of the permanent residents here—and they also make up part of the second-day minyan.

With many like-minded people around and more space inside and outside the house, people here are happy and content. With significant construction going on the population is expected to double within a few years. Maybe there’s a place here for you too.

Still in Eretz Yisroel

When we moved out of Yerushalayim, many of our family and friends were a bit skeptical. They felt that by moving out of Yerushalayim, we were moving out of Eretz Yisroel. In reality, though, this unique suburb of Agan HaAyalot with its proximity to Yerushalayim has enabled people to stay longer­—many even permanently.

We told them that we’re still much closer to the kosel than from those people still in America. Every Chol HaMoed we take a family trip to be oleh l’regel to the Old City. We tell our children that while there are thousands of people that spend thousands of dollars to travel there, we are fortunate that we can do it by just a cheap, quick bus ride.

Most of us Americans are living far away from our families, so we are here for each other like family. It has happened more than once that after a Friday afternoon birth, neighbors and members of our close-knit kehillah put together a shalom zochor within a short time.

This really is a wonderful and successful community.

Tzefas Is Not Just for Visiting…

No Reason to Go Back

Eli Mendel, Tzefas

I grew up in Manchester, attended school in Yeshiva Ketana Chayei Olam in London, and then the Yeshiva of Gateshead. Afterwards, I went to Eretz Yisroel to learn by R’ Tzvi Kushelevsky for two years, just because that’s what people were doing.

A shidduch was suggested for me with an American Israeli from Tzefas, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to live here or in Manchester because of the extremely different mentalities. Because I wanted to leave the door open to go back to Manchester, the shidduch was finalized without my commitment to living here in Eretz Yisroel. My wife suggested we first try living here for a year, and I felt secure doing so as I had “pas besalo“—that if I ever wanted, we could move back to Manchester. We have been here for nine years already and are very happy here. I see no reason to go back. In fact, we can’t even see ourselves living in chutz la’Aretz anymore.

We started out in Yerushalayim. It was quite ridiculous to pay a whole month’s salary for renting a basement, so we moved to Tzefas where the housing is much more affordable. You can even buy a private villa here—including a small unit to rent out to others—for less than a small apartment in Yerushalayim.

We came to Tzefas several years ago as part of the first major wave of young Chareidi families to move in. Back then there were four dogs in my building, which is not a common sight in your typical Chareidi neighborhood. Today there are none, and instead, you get to see lots of frum kids crossing the street to cheider or to school, just like in any other Chareidi city. If your impression of Tzefas is based on what you saw when you came here for vacation—even if it was only a few short years ago—I suggest you come to check it out again.

Here in Tzefas there is an atmosphere of peace and simplicity—you can be your real self here, as there is no need to show off. People here are friendly. In a way it’s like a shtetl [little village], but it’s also like a city. Besides for being beautiful and peaceful, Tzefas has everything we need. There are all kinds of mosdos and shuls here. Though I send my kids to a good Chassidish school, I am learning in a Litvish kollel. There are good Litvish and Chassidish chadorim and schools through high school. The Chassidish are united here and not sectored. We feel we all need each other, so there can be a kana’i, a Belzer chossid and a Rachmastrivka chossid all joined, putting their personal yichus aside to make things happen in the community.

There are shops of every kind here and none of them are open on Shabbos. Though there are many Jews here who are traditional, they are nonetheless connected to and have respect for Yiddishkeit. Neighborhoods are becoming more Chareidi as the non-religious are not really moving in. There aren’t any churches or mosques here either.

There are also interesting job opportunities here. I get paid by someone to drive down every day to nearby Amuka to daven by the kever of the holy Tanna, Rabbi Yonasan Ben Uziel. I am also an agent for vacation apartments up north, for groups, yeshivos, and families. There are jobs specifically suitable for English speakers to engage in because of so many English-speaking tourists, including in the field of tourism and kiruv.

Tzefas has a very large English-speaking community, though they mostly are those who have come here to Eretz Yisroel at a young age and are therefore completely integrated with the Israelis. There are many Jews from France as well.

The calm atmosphere and the comfortable weather here have an appeal no less than places in chutz la’Aretz like where I grew up, while there is also the additional kedushas Eretz Yisroel. Being the highest city in Eretz Yisroel at nine-hundred meters above sea level, the breeze makes it comfortable even in the summer heat. The cold of the winter is something I’m used to from back in England. Being so elevated it often snows here. Magnificent views include the close-by Kinneret to the southeast and the snow-capped Hermon mountain to the north. On a clear day you can see all the way to Haifa on the west coast.

From here I can also easily and quickly get to Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai in Meiron whenever I want to. Some people from chutz la’Aretz pay thousands of dollars to come just for Lag Ba’omer, and for me it’s almost free.

After all is said, I don’t know where people get the notion that Tzefas is all about old mekubalim and broken-down houses. With such misconceptions, many people would not dare to live here. If they’d come for just a few weeks they’d be shocked to find it’s such a beautiful and livable place, modern, yet with a lot of “character.” If they would know how it really is here, they would wish they would have the opportunity to join us. Though maybe not for people who would really miss hectic city life, those who are looking for quiet would really enjoy it here, living in “vacation land” the whole year round.

It’s All in the Mind

Among the countless great Tzaddikim buried in Tzefas there is one known as R’ Leib Ba’al Yissurim [the afflicted one]. According to legend, he promised that he would help anyone who needed a yeshua who would come to his kever and say the whole Tehillim on Erev Shabbos after chatzos.

He was one of the first Ashkenazim to settle in Chevron, moving in his later years to Tzefas. Although it is not known what yissurim he went through to acquire this title, all of the early pioneers here in Eretz Yisroel went through substantial yissurim to be zoche to live here.

In these times, the yissurim for us to be zoche to live in Eretz Yisroel sometimes just amounts to changing our mindset.

Reprinted with permission from Avira D’Eretz Yisroel.