Life in Israel (1)

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I just finished braiding my hair in rows. Its about three /four inches and takes me about an hour to do. As the kids are running amok in the house, I'm glad to finish braiding my hair so I can clean up after them.

But of course, I come here instead. LOL!

I'm just reflecting on living in Israel after an email I got. What's life like for an African American Jewess in Israel?

I'm pretty sure what detached me from Christianity. Sexual abuse. Try as I might, I am having a really hard time finding spiritual effects of child molestation from any books. But I know inside of me what it can do. It can rip apart the very foundational learning that one has while a child. Those things you learn since two or three years old, those things that are ingrained in your bones; all that gets uprooted. Like a totally new creation, I could choose what I want from my life and how I wanted to be.

I don't think many people who didn't go through such great traumas can uproot something that a generation, unbeknownst to the individual, decided to ingrain in them. But ONLY for that, I am grateful and appreciate the silver lining in the cloud. Sometimes I amaze my own self that I can find the single good within bad.

At any rate, what brought me to Judaism is more complex. I was looking for God, for truth, for life. I did consider a convent, but there was the belief that was a problem. Suffice it to say, this is my plate.

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Well, making the decision to move to Israel was not an easy one. For one thing I had a fear of airplanes. Really it was a fear of trusting man so much that I'll sit on his however many gallons of fuel and fire and allow him to take me anywhere! Also, I did not know much about the Israeli culture. I understood Jewish American culture but Middle east?! Plus I hardly new anyone there.

Nevertheless, I wanted to move away. I didn't want to always be the "new girl who just learned about x" I wanted to be in a place where I was established as my own person. That I could pick up a prayer book and know what to do with it, rather than have the "caring" individual feel they ought to show me where the congregation is holding. I wanted a new fresh start as an established Jewess.

So there I was, landed in Israel. I didn't even know what to expect. Perhaps bombings and everyone running for safety. Perhaps those anchor men who continuously report the 'worst news they could find about Israel waiting to interview me as I got off the plane. I don't know. But it was pretty okay. No fanfare. I took a van /service bus that would take me from Tel Aviv airport to Jerusalem, to the seminary I planned to stay at.

So far so good. It was interesting to note, nobody treated me strangely because I was African American. In America, I was always faced with the identity question "you think you white?" from the black community and "Are you Jewish?" "Did you convert?" from a few in the Jewish community and on and on and on went the forever request to prove one's identity. Here, I usually get, "are you religious or not?" I thought that was a nice step forward.

I got to the school and set my suitcases down by the office. "Hi. I'm Miriam .... I registered here."

"I'm sorry ma'am. We have no record of your papers."

"What do you mean no record?! I sent them. I don't have another place to go, I came all the way from America!"

"I'm sorry ma'am. I can not let you in without the proper papers."

Try as I might, she wasn't budging. She allowed me to call the Principle (called Rosh Yeshiva) for special admittance, but even he was not budging.

I was essentially homeless in a new strange land with a new strange language!!!

Welcome to Israel...