אוירא דארץ ישראל Avira DEretz Yisroel

Between our engagement and chasuna, we scoured the entire Eretz Yisroel to find a place to live which would suit our preferences. I personally love traveling around to see different places here, and it’s very empowering to know that each daled amos is also a mitzvah.

I wanted a yishuv, while my husband was more interested in a city, so we settled on (and in) Nof HaGalil. It is a mixture of out-of-town feel and style, with all the advantages of being a full-fledged city. Everyone here gets along, Jews and Arabs, frum Jews and chilonim, and it is perfectly normal to see different kinds of people sitting together. (Yes, this is being written soon after the time of Operation Guardian of the Walls, when there was some major unrest in some other cities with mixed Jewish and Arab populations, but we had absolutely none of that here.)

We are part of a small, warm and close-knit Chareidi kehillah of about 25 young families. There is also a small and similarly-sized group of families connected to the Torat HaChaim yeshivah of Yad Binyamin (formerly of Neve Dekalim, Gush Katif). Although they are culturally similar to Dati Leumi (National Religious), still, they are actually much closer to us hashkafically. They don’t believe in the Medinah (State), nor do they send their kids to the army. Both groups daven together in the same central shul. I like it this way, where there is one place for everyone who wants HaShem in the center of their life.

Both groups also participate together in activities, shiurim, and various courses, and my personal circle of friends is mixed as well. Our chinuch is different though; while our kids may play together with theirs, we send our kids to the Chareidi mosdos in the nearby exclusively-Chareidi neighborhood of Har Yona, while they send to other mosdos. In another area of Nof HaGalil there is also a significant Chabad kehillah, which also includes some Anglos.

In a small community like ours, and in general in what is known as Eretz Yisroel’s periphery (places a bit far from and smaller than the major population centers in the center of the country), there is more leeway; people are more accepting. People from solidly frum homes and more modern ones may all go to the same school, which usually also has smaller classes, allowing for more loving care and attention. This may be similar to out-of-town communities in America. I taught here in a Dati (religious but not Chareidi) school, and they were fine with having a Chareidi teacher.

In many out-of-town kehillos like ours, there is a young atmosphere, where people go after their dreams, and just go with what they believe. People can do their own thing if they want to – I know frum people who homeschool, and are still a part of their communities. Also, anyone who has a skill, whether or not they have an official degree, has a place to put it to use. It’s not like in a big city, with many people already doing everything; here you have a better chance to find a place to express your talent.

Though the kehillah is centered around a kollel, those like my husband, who are working – he’s a rebbi in a cheider in Chadera – are no less a part. The women get together once a month for a program and to shmooze, and being far from family, are all there for each other, helping with meals, babysitting, Shabbos and more, as needed. Recently the entire kehillah went away for a weekend get-together, and it was a beautiful bonding experience.

Although I’m a chutznik (from Gateshead) – and in terms of mentality I will stay a chutznik – I have found that Israelis will be accepting of me as long as I am also accepting of them and open to understanding and appreciating them. Their culture includes telling you straight out what they think, being straight to the point, and no shows. Their attitudes and behaviors, stemming from their different culture, may sometimes drive you mad, but – from my own experience – at the end of the day, they really care, and ultimately, they’ll be there for you “ad hasof” (i.e. entirely, lit. until the end). I know what I believe in and sometimes choose to do things differently than they would – it’s my life, after all – but I do realize that there is a sense of logic to their culture as well, different from mine as it may be.

Learning Hebrew made things a lot easier for me. Don’t be scared of making mistakes: I initially made loads and loads of embarrassing mistakes, but Israelis are very understanding and helpful. The truth is that many people here understand English, even if they say they don’t. A cousin of mine once got on a bus here and started speaking to the driver in English. He responded in Hebrew that he didn’t understand English. She replied in English, “You’re a liar! They told me that everyone here knows English!” to which he burst out laughing, understanding exactly what she had just said…

It was important to me that my kids would be proficient in English at mother-tongue level, so I started an English-speaking gan (kindergarten). The amusing result is that the gan-aged kids in our kehillah know English while many of their parents don’t…

Fulfilling a Dream

I recently fulfilled an old dream of mine, to hike through the Shvil MiYam LeYam (Sea to Sea Trail) which crosses the north of Eretz Yisroel, spanning from the Mediterranean until the Kinneret. It takes three days of trekking from morning to nightfall, part of it going through Nachal Kziv stream. It is relatively family-friendly; I saw a seven-year old doing it too. There are so many such wonderful opportunities here in Eretz Yisroel!

I grew up in Queens and my wife is from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Though we met and married in chutz laAretz, it was clear to us from the start that we would move to Eretz Yisroel. We both come from a more Modern Orthodox background, and our families always had a sense of connection to Israel. Our parents and most of our siblings now live here as well.

We came to Yerushalayim after my wife finished her college studies in America. I became a member of the Gruss kollel, where I learned for three years. Almost all of its members come here for just a few years before going back to America, but we were here to stay. I eventually found work in Yeshivat Eitan, an Israeli yeshivah ketanah, and we moved several times to various communities here in the wake of the yeshivah’s relocation(s).

We first bought an apartment in Neve Yaakov, a nice and more-affordable neighborhood on the outskirts of Yerushalayim with a sizeable percentage of Americans. When the yeshivah moved to Yavne’el in Eretz Yisroel’s north, we followed. We were in Afula for a short time as well. When the yeshivah moved to Moshav Shalva in the vicinity of Kiryat Gat in Eretz Yisroel’s south, we looked for a suitable community in the area. We were referred by Rav Weinbach zt”l of Ohr Somayach to the community of Ofakim, where we have been happily living for over ten years already.

We sold the apartment we owned in Neve Yaakov, and with that money bought a large private house in Ofakim – and were even left with a considerable amount of “change.” When we bought the house, it was over 2300 square feet, with a large backyard including fruit trees and a nice pergola, and two huge balconies. We recently built one of those balconies into two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a machsan (storage room), which we may rent out as a separate unit. The house already includes a small rental unit as well, which helps us with parnassah. Altogether it’s about 270 square meters – close to 3000 square feet – not including our 500-square-foot sukkah balcony. We really love the ability to live with privacy and enough living space. Such a property (before our new construction) went for less than 1.3 million shekels when we bought it about seven years ago, and also today such properties are still considerably less than an apartment in even the more-affordable neighborhoods of Yerushalayim. A spacious private house here with a big yard may be similar in price to a four-bedroom apartment in Ramat Beit Shemesh.

My wife works from home as an accountant for a firm based in Ramat Beit Shemesh. For me, it’s a pleasant 25-minute commute to Be’er Sheva, the major metropolis in this area, where the yeshivah is now located. There are plans for a new road which will cut travel time even more. There is also frequent public transportation available.

There are also ruchniyus-related reasons for which we love Ofakim, obvious if you know anything about the city. If we would sum up what Ofakim stands for in two words, it would be “Torah” and “pashtus” (simplicity). For anyone looking for that, Ofakim is a truly amazing place. The mara d’asra is the son of Rav Shimshon Pinkus zt”l, who preceded him as the rav here, and who had a profound influence on the atmosphere here.

What I like most is that there is a real sense of community here. There is a strong feeling of achdus, and of being a significant part of something bigger. One example of this that comes to mind is that in response to a suggestion by Rav Steinman zt”l to the community to be mekabel Shabbos a bit earlier, all the various minyanim – without exception – rescheduled minchah of Erev Shabbos to five minutes earlier than their previous time, whatever time that may have been. The kehillah is under the firm leadership of the rabbonim, and they are the ones who establish what happens here. I am also very impressed with the mosdos chinuch here, especially with the way they deal with issues and challenges.

The community has experienced tremendous growth over the last ten years; it may be more accurate to say “explosive” growth. There is the natural growth of the established families here, and there are many young couples from other areas moving in as well. Some live in exclusively Chareidi sections of the city, including the Kiryah Chareidit (also known as Kiryat HaYeshiva), the Chazon Ish neighborhood, and the new development (known as the “Proyect” – project). There are other areas of the city that are undergoing a transition of character as more Chareidim move into them, including Shechunat HaRif (the Rif neighborhood), where we live.

The Chareidi population here is comprised mostly of Litvish and Sephardi bnei Torah. A high percentage of the kehillah are full-time kollel yungeleit, so the kehillah’s growth has led to the opening of many new kollelim. Two new chadorim – an Ashkenazi one and a Sephardi one – were established as well. There are a handful of professionals – a doctor, a lawyer, some handymen, electricians, etc. and there are many mechanchim (like myself). Many families run businesses selling goods from home, such as shoes, disposables, etc.

Aside from Chareidim, the city’s populace includes Dati-Leumi (National Religious), traditional, and irreligious Jews. B”H everyone gets along.

Positive Atmosphere

We absolutely love it here in Ofakim; we are happy with the atmosphere here and the positive impact it has on our children.

There are a handful of English speakers here, but they are mostly children of olim. There are some who, like us, are themselves olim, but even they socialize primarily in Hebrew. There is no American atmosphere here; it is a regular Israeli Chareidi kehillah, and anyone looking for that will iy”H be very happy here.

I grew up in Los Angeles as an ordinary frum kid, no different than many others on the block.

My parents often spoke lovingly and longingly about Eretz Yisroel. We actually visited the Holy Land a few times when I was a child. We spent a summer in Eretz Yisroel and enjoyed it immensely and a year or two later, we spent yet another summer there as well.

My mother’s parents had relatives in Eretz Yisroel. To their great pride, their son, my uncle, made aliyah a few years after his marriage. My parents spoke openly about themselves also wanting to move to Eretz Yisroel, but unfortunately, it never happened – they are still in L.A.!

I was always intrigued by the many books describing Eretz Yisroel and its mekomos hakedoshim. I perceived a certain ancient charm in the pictures of cobblestone streets and dirt roads. When I arrived here for third year bais medrash, I was very excited, and enchanted, by the ruchnius opportunities that seemed to be growing from the trees – the Kosel, the kevarim, the Gedolim. I just couldn’t get enough!

I joined a fairly small yeshiva which was under the leadership of one of the Gedolim. It had a close-knit following of devoted talmidim, many of them yungeleit only a few years older than me. They warmly welcomed me and the rest of the bochurim into their homes. The warmth, the simcha, and the sense of camaraderie was very special. There was an overall feeling that we were part of something. This was my first inspiration, so to speak, to consider establishing my home in Eretz Yisroel. As my years in the yeshiva went on, this sentiment only grew stronger.

When the time came to pursue a shidduch, I considered doing so in Eretz Yisroel. My parents, though, felt that I should return to the States to find a wife, and only afterwards move back to Eretz Yisroel, as a married couple. It’s not that they wanted me to stay in America; they were actually very happy that I wanted to live in Eretz Yisroel.

I then spent a year learning in Lakewood. Although I did enjoy the learning there, I felt very much out of my element. I truly missed Eretz Yisroel and desperately wanted to come back. I even convinced my parents that it would be worth letting me go back to Eretz Yisroel, even if only for an Elul Zman. It was definitely worth it!

While in shidduchim, I did make mention of my special experiences and feelings for Eretz Yisroel. I certainly expressed a desire to live there, but I did not ask for a commitment to live in Eretz Yisroel as a prerequisite or condition for a shidduch. This was under the guidance of my Rosh Yeshiva, who also advised against making long term plans right away. Unfortunately, the girl who would become my wife was given the impression (by some well-meaning individuals) that this was a condition, and that she was indeed signing her life away to living away from her family forever! This backfired many times, over the years. I guess it wasn’t enough just to listen to my Rosh Yeshiva; I should have made sure that everyone else did as well. Ultimately, we married and moved here, taking each year, and each day, one at a time.

For the first three years here as a married couple, we lived in the Yerushalayim neighborhood of Har Nof. The apartments were quite large and comfortable, but from a social aspect, we felt a void. There weren’t too many young couples our age, with children the same ages as our children. We therefore moved to the Sanhedriya / Ramat Eshkol area, and have been living there ever since. In a certain sense, we are now considered part of the ‘older,’ more permanently settled crowd here.

The demographics here in our neighborhood have changed since we arrived. The language on the street is now basically English, and the shuls and ganim (preschools) are filled with Anglos. Although I do enjoy the comfort of having landsmen next door, I miss the nostalgic Israeli charm and simplicity. To begin with, it was that culture that I had felt drawn to, not the one I had grown up with!

Nowadays, it is much simpler to live in Eretz Yisroel. In neighborhoods like mine, your friends and neighbors are all English speakers. Over the past few years new shuls have opened up, led by American rabbonim, which serve the American tzibbur. You can get all the amenities of America here – three bagel stores, ice coffee, Snapple and Gatorade too! – and there are even chadorim and Bais Yaakovs that cater to the English-speaking tzibbur. “For the Americans, by the Americans!” There are surely blessings in this new age, where people can move here while staying very much in their comfort zone, but I do miss the charm, the chein, and the innocence of the other, “authentically Eretz Yisroel,” side.

Our side, though, is also becoming an authentic part of the mosaic that makes up Eretz Yisroel…

The Difference

On a recent trip to America, my five-year-old daughter made a comment that seemed to capture the purity and innocence of a child’s perspective. She was enjoying bubby’s pool, going on outings, and having a blast being wined and dined, but she still felt she should ask: “Abba, is there also a Kosel in America?” “No,” I told her, “there is not.” “Is America kadosh like Eretz Yisroel?” “No, it’s not.”

Maybe she’s only five, but she chapped the difference! The mekomos hakedoshim, the sanctity of a land seeped in kedusha – that is what makes Eretz Yisroel special!

As a bochur in shidduchim in the U.S., I was very clear that as far as I’m concerned, living in Eretz Yisroel is the only option. This conclusion of mine was after researching the issue thoroughly. I had been learning previously for a few years in Eretz Yisroel by R’ Dovid Soloveitchik zt”l, and had the zechus of learning with R’ Eliyahu Zilberman shlita as well. He advised me not to give “hashkafa” drashos while in shidduchim, rather simply state that I know that being in Eretz Yisroel was highly valued by gedolei Yisroel throughout the generations, and even if I don’t exactly understand why it was important to them, it is probably important for me too.

Time went on and it may have seemed that shidduchim did not pull through due to this stance of mine on Eretz Yisroel. It was actually assumed that as time went on with no shidduch materializing, my stance must have softened. In truth, my resolve had actually gotten stronger over time.

One of the main points of contention was “concern” with my parnassah. How could I insist on living in Eretz Yisroel if I didn’t know how I would make a parnassah there? My reply was that last I checked, it was the Ribbono Shel Olam who provided parnassah, and I was sure He could provide in Eretz Yisroel too. In an interesting twist, I make part of my parnassah here in Eretz Yisroel in a way I could never do abroad—I’m a tour guide in and around the Old City of Yerushalayim. This is something I can do during Bein Hazmanim and bein hasdorim, and it allows me to devote much of my time to learning. Even when social distancing was mandated, I was able to work by giving virtual tours. In addition, I also am involved in the publishing of manuscripts of Rishonim and Achronim, as well as in the collection and research of various sifrei Torah.

There is much to see in the Old City of Yerushalayim—spanning the entire history of the Jewish people up until today—from the place where the Beis HaMikdash once stood (and will soon B”H stand once again and for eternity) to the places where the sounds of Torah and tefillah can be heard once again. There is so much to learn and so much we can connect to, from our magnificent past through our miraculous rebirth in HaShem’s Land, and up until our strong present presence and promising promised future.

After two thousand years in golus, I feel that we are in an amazing period in Jewish history. I would even say I feel a sense of closure as some aspects of the golus of Am Yisroel are gradually coming to an end.

My first Tisha B’Av in Eretz Yisroel was the day after I first landed here. I distinctly remember waking up and hearing the cooing of the doves in Eretz Yisroel’s clear blue sky, and thinking to myself, “Wow, I am really here, in Eretz Yisroel!” I just couldn’t believe the reality that I was here. It was simply unreal. I mean, just the day before I was in the USA, where the regular normal guys are…. Here in Eretz Yisroel, hearing everyone around me saying kinos just felt a bit strange to me. This was in Arzei HaBira in Yerushalayim, a typical Yerushalmi neighborhood; it wasn’t even a place of specific historic significance such as the Kosel. This emotion was triggered just by being in Eretz Yisroel, breathing its air and walking its streets, and being next to so many Yidden who have come back home. Though I could not determine exactly why, it was an overpowering emotion.

This was the feeling I had after just one night in Eretz Yisroel. It is interesting to note the words of Rav Avraham Azulai ztz”l (a forebearer of the Chida ztz”l): “When one is zoche to enter Eretz Yisroel, a new nefesh from Yetzirah comes to him, and envelopes his old nefesh. On the first night that he sleeps in Eretz Yisroel, both nefashos leave him and go up, and only the new one returns to him.” (Chesed L’Avraham, Ma’ayan 3, Nahar 12).

One Chol HaMoed, when I was still keeping two days of Yom Tov, I was a guest in the sukkah of R’ Eliyahu Zilberman. A discussion had come up earlier about committing to live in Eretz Yisroel and keeping one or two days of Yom Tov. The rav said with much passion that when someone commits to living in Eretz Yisroel he is at once terminating for himself at least some aspects of two thousand years of golus, in a very literal sense, and the time to make such a commitment is right now… The tremendous significance of this reality was not lost on me. With just one firm decision I would make—in a certain sense— two thousand years come to an end!

Of course, significant as it is, coming to live in Eretz Yisroel is only one part of this journey. As a nation, we still have a way to go, up until the ultimate “v’haya HaShem lemelech al kol ha’aretz,” speedily in our days. However, being back as His children in His Land, living according to His rules and performing as many of His mitzvos as we can and yearning for more, we are actually headed in the direction of having that become a reality.

Living in an Esrog

While in the U.S. for a chasuna, my wife met for the first time, some of my nieces living in the U.S. They could not believe that we managed to live in such a small apartment in Yerushalayim, and one of them started boasting about their much larger living quarters in America. My wife told her that she did not have anything to boast about since we could buy three American-sized houses for the price of our little piece of Yerushalayim. I later reasoned this with the following mashal, succinctly differentiating for a friend between those two pieces of real-estate: “How many lemons can you buy for the price of one Esrog?!”

Yerushalayim is not just real-estate…