So the journey began in late December or early January when we told our families that we were really going to do it – really going to move to Israel for a year. We’ve planned on this adventure for as long as we have been married. We already had one false alarm when we almost moved, but now we were really going to do it! Really.
After negotiations with the company, in which it was agreed my husband would be doing a lot of traveling; and negotiations with the storage company, in which it was agreed we would be paying through the nose for the privilege of keeping all our junk; and negotiations with our children in which we decided what we absolutely, positively could not live without for a year; we packed up our stuff, gave up our apartment, said goodbye to our friends, boarded a plane and went.
We and all of our 6 suitcases, 3 children, 3 car seats, 5 backpacks and a camera bag got on two different airplanes followed by a four hour car ride south from Tel Aviv through the dessert to a Kibbutz a half an hour from the southern tip of Israel.
Although my husband and his family grew up in this Kibbutz – and in fact his parents live there still – I and my children do not speak Hebrew, nor are we Jewish, nor have we ever lived outside of the northern United States. We were used to seasons, to weather, to humidity. Southern Israel receives about 2 cm of rain per year (about 1 inch for you fellow Americans). In Chicago, well lets just say there were whole weeks I couldn’t get to my garage because my back yard was flooded almost to my knees. I’m used to never being able to leave the house without a sweatshirt and or rain coat.
Nevertheless, we packed our stuff, made our preparations, and went.
In the coming months I hope to relate my thoughts and my experiences during this adventure. Maybe you’ll be amused, maybe I’ll gain some insight, or maybe it will just pass the time for both of us. Enjoy!