KUMMUNIQUE

Shalom! We are proud to present another issue of Kummunique.

This issue is filled the awesome Kiddush Hashem of Western Aliyah that is coming to Israel in a time of war. These past two weeks have seen amazing media coverage of the courage and tenacity of the Jewish people's return to the Land of Israel. I have included some of the best articles that have appeared. Please enjoy this very special, and extra-long, issue of Kummunique.

In this issue you will find:

1. "New Arrivals Remind Us Of Our Destiny" by Alan D. Abbey
2. "Missiles Don't Deter Planeload Of Immigrants From North America" By Dina Kraft
3. "Former Monsey Woman To Publish Book On Experiences In Israel" by Hema Easley
4. "Newly Arrived Immigrants Struggle To Cope With Their First Taste Of War" by By Daphna Berman
5. "Peace In Jerusalem's Anglo Scene" by Jacob Berkman
6. "Olmert: These Days Demand Sacrifice" by Moran Zelikovich

Also, enjoy our new hour-long audio from the last Nefesh B'Nefesh arrival:

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1. "New Arrivals Remind Us Of Our Destiny" by Alan D. Abbey
From YNET

Ceremony for 250 N. American 'olim' at airport welcome breather from Katyusha pounding

We got up and out of the house early today, just before the pounding began. I don't mean the Katyushas that have been harming our countrymen, friends, and relatives in the North, but what we call the "chunka chunka" machine, a noisy pile driver that is digging a deep hole for a new apartment building across the street from ours.

The pile driver bangs away all day, from 7 a.m. to about 7 p.m., and on Fridays, too. The builder seems to be in a hurry to get his new apartment complex in the ground.

We needed to be out early to attend a ceremony at Ben-Gurion Airport marking the arrival of 250 North American olim (new immigrants), among them a young cousin of mine.

The flight was the 17th "boatload" of North American immigrants to Israel organized by Nefesh B'Nefesh (Soul to Soul), a five-year-old private agency that has revolutionized the way Americans move to Israel operating in cooperation with the Jewish Agency for Israel .

The ceremony was admirably well organized, with ample shade, food, water bottles, Israeli flags, balloons, and even candy for the kids. One of the speakers made the offhand remark that Ben-Gurion Airport is probably the only airport in the world that is set up to welcome groups of immigrants with moving ceremonies.

We all rushed to one side of the open-sided hangar on the tarmac to see the gleaming white El Al 777 airplane release its passengers. Shouts rang out as people recognized friends and relatives. A roar went up from the crowd of more than 500 when one exuberant new oleh jumped up and down and waved his arms as he emerged from the plane at the top of the staircase.

'Aliyah answer to Hizbullah'

A few minutes later we all rushed to where the new arrivals were coming into the area set aside for the ceremony. Applause, cheers, and tears broke out as the newcomers pressed through the tightly packed throngs and broke out of the narrow corridor as they found their greeters. We hugged our cousin tightly when we saw him.

The symbolism of today's arrival is too obvious to be missed: North Americans giving up their cushy existence in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave for a more difficult life in the dusty foothills of their ancient forefathers in a time of war. When much of Beirut has been reduced to rubble, firefights are flashing across the Israel-Lebanon border, hundreds of Israelis have been injured, and thousands are in and out of bomb shelters, dozens of families are beginning new lives with joy and courage.

I don't generally agree with Bibi Netanyahu, one of the welcoming speakers, but I'm happy to quote him today: "Aliyah is the answer to Hizbullah." For once, he's right. Israel, still a small country, needs all the immigrants it can get.

This won't be the final battle

That's not to overcome the alleged demographic time bomb (that is, the purported eventual majority of Arabs in the land of Israel because of higher Arab birthrates). Nor is it to become cannon fodder for the IDF.

Most of the immigrants I saw today – with the exception of a few like my cousin, who has already served in the Army and will do his reserve duty – are too old to join the Army, even though their children probably will.

It's because the immigrants are choosing meaningful lives of building the Jewish state for themselves and future generations over their materially richer lives in what I like to call the "Old Country." It's a needed reminder of the idealism that built this country, and that idealism is not dead.

Obviously, all of today's immigrants began planning their trip months or even years ago, and their arrival today was coincidental. Or was it?

Our morale is high: There is a great deal of unity in the country, and support for the necessary but difficult task of reducing Hizbullah's power to rubble without destroying all of Lebanon. We need to clip Syria's and Iran's wings without drawing them into a Doomsday battle.

This won't be the final battle; this is not Armageddon come to life (death?) out of the pages of the Bible. This one of the periodic efforts to remind the Arab world that Israel is (1) strong, (2) united, and (3) here to stay. It's not a lesson that lasts forever. As they say, in every generation some descendant of Amalek rises up with the intention of destroying Israel and the Jewish people.

But the sooner we get finished with knocking down the Katyushas the sooner we can get back to our real work: Building the Jewish state and securing the future of the Jewish people.
When we returned home, the "chunka chunka" machine was still banging away. I listened to it with fresh appreciation: It was the sound of building, not destruction, a sound we in Israel prefer above all others.

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2. "Missiles Don't Deter Planeload Of Immigrants From North America" By Dina Kraft
From the St. Louis Jewish Light

NEW YORK/TEL AVIV — Susan Rubin held her 22-year-old son close, tears spilling down her cheeks while news photographers zoomed in on what an American Jewish mother looks like as she watches her son immigrate to Israel in the midst of war.

"Just let me cry," she told her son, Stephen, who graduated from college a month ago. But Rubin said her sadness comes not only from the ongoing fighting and her son's intentions to join an Israeli army combat unit, but simply from how much she'll miss him.

"People ask me, 'How can you let him go?' I say how can I not let him go?" said Rubin, an editor and researcher from Bala Cynwyd, a Philadelphia suburb. "We raise our children to go forth, but it doesn't mean our hearts aren't breaking."

Rubin's son was one of 239 North American immigrants who left New York on Wednesday and arrived in Israel the following day on a flight chartered by Nefesh B'Nefesh, an organization devoted to facilitating North American aliyah. The group helps ease the aliyah process by streamlining the immigration process and providing financial grants and social services.

Organizers expect to welcome the 10,000th immigrant from Nefesh B'Nefesh later this summer. The group's efforts are funded predominately by a handful of philanthropic families, and it also receives funding and support from the Israeli government and the Jewish Agency for Israel.

Against a backdrop of war and uncertainty, farewells were especially emotional as families and friends bid their loved ones good-bye at New York's JFK Airport. Sisters parted from brothers, parents from children and grandchildren. Long good-byes were punctuated with hugs, grasped hands and tears.

"I'll miss them, but I'm proud of them," said writer Joe Rapaport, 64, as his son and daughter-in-law and their five children checked in suitcases and strollers piled high on carts.

Inbar Rapaport, 33, pregnant with her sixth child, stood at the check-in counter and said the fighting between Israel and Hezbollah had not deterred the family from making aliyah, as she and her husband had intended for years.

"I'm happy that they're trying to get Hezbollah out of southern Lebanon," the Harvard-educated lawyer said. "I'd be happier if Israel was at peace, but it's not."

Her immediate concerns are practical: She worries that the shipment from the home the family just sold in Teaneck, N.J., will be delayed because the Haifa port has been closed due to missile attacks on the city.

Shachar, 9, the eldest of the Rapaport children, has been following the daily headlines.

"I was a little scared that we're moving. I thought that coming in we might have to fly in the north of the country and that a rocket might hurt the plane," he said.

But he added quickly, "I think the plane has anti-rocket" equipment.

Nefesh B'Nefesh established a hotline after hostilities flared across Israel's border with Lebanon last week. About 20 families who were planning to live in the North canceled their places on the flight, choosing to go a few weeks later, when they hope the crisis will have passed.

Rabbi Yehoshua Fass, Nefesh B'Nefesh's co-founder and executive director, fielded dozens of calls and e-mails over the past week from anxious immigrants-to-be and their relatives. He commended those planning to live in the North who had delayed their immigration.

"It's too traumatic to take children from stable homes to a shelter," he told JTA as the plane approached Israel's coast.

Many of those who make aliyah with Nefesh B'Nefesh are part of large Orthodox families.

Fass, who immigrated on the first flight the group organized five years ago, said the immigrants' determination to leave comfortable homes and lives in North America, especially with Israeli cities under rocket fire, sends a powerful message.

"It's the ultimate act of solidarity," he said. "In their minds it's not a conflict, it's like the 'for better or worse,' it's like marriage. They understand they're getting married to Israel."

Former Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu greeted the immigrants in a festive ceremony at the airport.

"What's the best answer to Hezbollah?" asked Netanyahu, who currently heads Israel's political opposition as head of the Likud Party. "You are the best answer."

"It's a testament to the Jewish spirit," he told JTA.

The immigrants were greeted like rock stars as they descended from buses to the welcoming ceremony. Guests, including friends and relatives, waved small Israeli flags and greeted them with cheers and applause.

Sara Goldstein, 41, from Merrick, N.Y., walked on the tarmac with her husband and four children. Her daughter Tali, 10, clutched the handle of a box containing the family pet, a Persian cat born around Purim and named Ahasuerus.

The fighting was no reason to delay her family's plans, she said.

"We've been planning this for a while," Tali said, checking that the family's belongings were all in tow. "We're very comfortable here."

Charlotte Kolodly, 89 years old and about four-and-a-half feet tall, also wasn't deterred by the missiles.

"It doesn't keep me back because Hashem keeps his eyes over Zion," she said.

The European-born mother of seven, a grandmother and great-grandmother to dozens, had planned on making aliyah 25 years ago, but passed at the time because her husband had a heart attack.

On Thursday, she landed in Israel escorted by one of her grandsons.

"Now I can do it," Kolodly said, her small frame swallowed up by her airplane seat. "I don't have to take care of my children anymore. My children have to take care of me."

Rubin said he first came to Israel on a birthright israel trip.

The current fighting had only strengthened his resolve to contribute to the country, he said. He will study Hebrew and work on a kibbutz in the North before joining the army in November.

"I know many of my opinions are pretty naive. I know I'm pretty idealistic," he said. "I guess I wouldn't be doing this otherwise."

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3. "Former Monsey Woman To Publish Book On Experiences In Israel" by Hema Easley
From The Journal News

Monsey native Laura Ben-David grew up with the allure of Israel — a special place for the Jewish people, a homeland for Jews.

In her freshman year, she traveled to Israel, seeing the length and the breadth of the country. She fell in love with the land.

It wasn't surprising then, that when she married a man who shared her love of Israel, the couple decided to move there.

In 2002, with four young children in tow, the Ben-Davids made aliyah, or a permanent move to Israel. They were among the first planeload of Americans to immigrate to Israel with Nefesh B'Nefesh, a Jerusalem-based company that helps American and Canadian Jews move to Israel.

Their move came at the height of the intifada, a time where suicide bombings by Palestinians were routine, Israelis lived in fear of the next explosion and Israeli tanks rolled into the West Bank and Gaza. But the Ben-Davids were undeterred, as they are now in their commitment to Israel despite the conflict between the country and Lebanon.

"Israel is part of who we are. It's a part of our psyche that Israel is the place where we should live," said Ben-David, who is now a mother of five and lives in Neve Daniel, a small town 10 minutes south of Jerusalem. "People thought we were nuts. But this is it. We're here. This is not a trial."

In the days before their departure, Ben-David began keeping a journal of her experiences. She's continued to write daily, and now e-mails excerpts to friends and family, replete with anecdotes about her interaction with local people, the challenges she faced and the impression Israel was making on her.

Her friends in turn sent it to others, and soon Ben-David was inundated with requests to be included in her e-mail list. People wrote to say they were vicariously living her aliyah experience. Soon her e-mails began circulating among hundreds if not thousands of people in the United States.

Four years later, Ben-David's journal will be published as a book called "Moving up — An Aliyah Journal." Aliyah is Hebrew for "ascent" or "moving up." The book will be available in Israel and the United States by the end of summer.

The anecdotes in her journal include how she and the planeload of Americans who arrived in Israel in July 2002 were greeted like stars. Benjamin Netanyahu, former prime minister of Israel, the media and even regular Israeli citizens showed up at the airport to greet the immigrants.

Much attention was given because the Americans arrived at a time when such immigration had dropped to a trickle. And while some Jews from Europe and other parts of the world still went to Israel to escape discrimination or for a better life, the Americans, relatively wealthy and well integrated into American society, were seen as having given up a better life to go there.

"Someone who emigrated from South Africa said to me, 'I know why I came. But why did you come?' " said Ben-David, recounting a conversation she had soon after moving to Israel. "We are not running away from something. We are just arriving. It's making a statement that living in Israel is very important to us."

The move did come with challenges and hardships. The most difficult were the differences in language and culture.

While the Ben-Davids spoke some Hebrew, it was rudimentary. But they found that everything from job interviews and buying medicine to schooling, parent-teacher meetings, grocery shopping and socializing was conducted in Hebrew.

Bureaucracy proved to be much more pervasive than in America in everything from banking to getting a driver's license. Culturally, every person acted as if he or she were a family member, said Ben-David, freely offering advice on how she should dress her children and what to feed them.

Also, everyone was on first-name basis, irrespective of age.

Some amenities that Americans take for granted are not available. Hot water has to be heated before taking a shower. Common American foods like pasta and peanut butter, while available, were expensive compared to pita, cheese and vegetables.

Above all, the threat of violence was always present, given the volatility of the region. But residents took it in stride, said Ben-David, and went about their business.

And so does she. With shelling in the north, Ben-David recently canceled a holiday weekend in that area. Apart from that, she hasn't made any changes to her life, which included a planned visit to Rockland this week.

"I have no regrets about moving to Israel. I want to live in the place of my history," Ben-David said. "Israel is like your mother. You go to Disneyland when it's a good time. You go to your mother when it's good or bad. We'll weather it out. We're here through the good and the bad."

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4. "Newly Arrived Immigrants Struggle To Cope With Their First Taste Of War" by By Daphna Berman
From Haaretz

Two weeks ago, Marti and Kalman Leebhoff moved their family from California's San Fernando Valley to Mitzpe Netofa, a tranquil and somewhat secluded community halfway between Carmiel and Tiberias. They opted to forgo the chaos of Jerusalem and decided against areas with large Anglo populations like Efrat or Neve Daniel in the Gush Etzion bloc, simply because they didn't want to deal with the security situation and the sometimes harsh realities of living in a West Bank settlement. Immigrating to a foreign country, they figured, would be a hard enough transition.

And this week, as the family sought refuge in Jerusalem, their suitcases still sitting unpacked in an apartment up north that has yet to become a home, the irony was not lost on them.

"We plan, plan, plan, but then it all goes spiraling out of control," Marti said. "We've spoken to some friends and Mitzpe Netofa hasn't been hit, but it's pretty empty, so we didn't think it would be good psychologically for the kids. We are obviously worried also about safety."

"We were on such a high from aliyah, and now we're just in a state of limbo," she added. "Our bank account information, our clothes and everything else are still up North. It's been a little traumatic and we don't know how long we'll have to be in Jerusalem. We're now staying with family, but how long can we remain at my brother-in-law's? Should we rent an apartment and wait until things calm down?

"We came on the first Nefesh B'Nefesh flight [of 2006] so we could have a lot of time to get acclimated before the kids start school. Now, I just feel exhausted and I'm not sure what I should do."

To be sure, the first few weeks of becoming Israeli have not been easy for the Leebhoff family. They have no regrets and insist that they will remain in Israel for the long haul. But as an afterthought almost, Marti does admit that she sometimes feels like crying.

"We are here in our country and that's what is important," she says. "If I was in the States and not here, I probably would have been more unsettled. But once in a while, I do feel like weeping. This has been such a transition."

The Leebhoffs are not alone. Just this month, nearly 500 North American immigrants arrived here on two separate chartered flights with Nefesh B'Nefesh and the Jewish Agency. Yesterday, some 220 immigrants arrived, amid much fanfare and media curiosity. The original number was 240, but some immigrants postponed their trip until later this summer because of the security situation.

"We've definitely been busier than usual," said Tzvi Richter, director of the department of social services at Nefesh B'Nefesh, which organized support groups and information sessions Wednesday night in Jerusalem and Ra'anana for new immigrants. "For our olim, this type of situation is very new and there's a sense of uncertainty. People want to know how to explain the situation to family back home or how to explain this to their kids in a way they can understand.

"Every situation takes some getting used to and for sabras [native Israelis], uncertainty has been part of their lives and they've learned to go on with a routine. But for some people who are new at this, it's sometimes difficult to go on with their lives," Richter said.

Susie Enteen immigrated earlier this month with her husband and their two sons from South Florida and says that being in a war takes some getting used to. "I don't know if I feel scared, because scared means changing my actions, which I haven't done," she said. "But it has been emotionally tough. We're always watching the news when my kids aren't around and I just feel like turning it off and watching a comedy or something stupid. I feel like I can't watch the news anymore. This sounds funny, but I want to get on with my life here and I don't want to hear about killing, dying and shelling."

On a more practical note, the Enteens are also waiting to move into their Mevasseret Zion home. But the shipment from Florida that contains their beds, toys and furniture has yet to arrive. And even if it does, the port in Haifa is closed and they've been told that they - like other newcomers - will have to wait.

According to Ruth Bar-On, executive director of the Israel Crisis Management Center (SELAH), which provides assistance to new immigrants, one of the most difficult issues facing recent arrivals to the country is the lack of built-in support systems from family and good friends that many veteran Israelis have. Immigrants, she said, often also deal with pressures from family abroad.

"Sometimes, the decision to make aliyah wasn't a consensus and so immigrants have to deal with parents, in-laws or friends who ask why they even moved to Israel in the first place. In these situations, instead of support from family, you have another source of anxiety," Bar-On said.

For many immigrants, however, the idealism that drove them to move here proves to be an important source of comfort during times of crisis and war, she noted. "Immigrants from the West gave up comforts to live here because they wanted to be part of the country and that gives them incredible resilience. They know why they are here and that gives them strength."

Meanwhile, other immigrants say that they've mostly continued on with their daily lives. Leeds-born Channah Graham, who lives in Tel Aviv, has scoped out an Internet map of the city to locate the closest bomb shelter, but otherwise, she says, her routine has mostly continued.

"I've never lived through this and neither have my parents, so in that way, it's very strange," she admitted. "And the other day, I was speaking to my friends about our local bomb shelters - which was probably one of the weirdest conversations I've ever had," she added with a laugh.

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5. "Peace In Jerusalem's Anglo Scene" by Jacob Berkman
From the Jewish Standard

It's Thursday night, and I've found myself at Sugar Hill, a shoebox bar somewhere off of Ben Yehuda Street, downtown Jerusalem's main drag. The bar has three booths, is covered with a wall-to-wall collage of posters featuring reggae singers and hippie rock icons, and a friend who I haven't spoken with in years is filling in as a guest bartender because the bar's owner fell down a flight of stairs earlier in the afternoon.

I've been in Israel for only a few hours, but already I know that I am where I want to be — and it's not because a friend bartending generally leads to free beers.

Despite the turmoil in the north, everything in Jerusalem seems suspiciously calm. And the streets that spindle off Ben Yehuda Street are a little more crowded than normal, bloated by northerners who have fled to take refuge in Jerusalem and by tour groups who have canceled their northern travels, say those who live in the area. It's a testament to how safe Jerusalem actually feels.

For an American who debated furiously whether this was the right time to visit Israel for the first time in eight years, the peacefulness here is reassuring.

The crowd that I've fallen into helps. It's something like the Upper West Side of Manhattan that I've left, a tinge yuppie, but it's more open, more inviting, and it gives me no reason to feel hesitant about approaching anyone. Amid the roughly 700,000 Jewish and non-Jewish inhabitants of Jerusalem, there is a sub-set of English-speaking young people in their 20s and early 30s who have either made aliyah or who are living and working here for extended periods of time in a sort of pre-aliyah phase, whom I would call moderately religious. They keep Shabbos to some degree, and some study in yeshivas or at universities. And of Jerusalem's many Anglo sub-sets — there are the religious hippies, the hardcore yeshiva-ites, the progressives, and the older retirees, among others — this is perhaps the most Anglo.

Most in this scene work, primarily at jobs that don't use the education they received in other parts of the world.

But they're here not necessarily to make money. They're here to live in Israel, and that is the thread that bonds them.

"There are probably about 500 of us," says Ahuva Berger, who made aliyah from Brooklyn two years ago through Nefesh B'Nefesh. "And it might be a [relatively] big community, but it is very small," she says, explaining that everyone knows everyone else to some degree.

Most live in neighborhoods within walking distance of downtown, such as the German Colony, Nachlaot, and Rechavia, because it is a very social crowd. By night, they hit various bars downtown, and by day, especially on the weekends, they live very much an outdoor café lifestyle, sitting for hours brunching at one of the number of cappuccino stops off Emek Refaim Street, a mile or so away from downtown.

And while many are now Israeli, they are not native Israeli; most still speak English, and many of those who do eventually master Hebrew never lose their foreign accents, says Berger, sipping a beer.

But hanging on to English, combined with being a foreigner and having cultural differences with native Israelis, has drawn them all to move here, and that makes the group very cohesive, and very open to more of their own, she says.

It's not uncommon for a new person to meet one Anglo, who will then introduce that person to everyone he or she knows as if they were best friends, says Eli Gurock, the bartender for the evening. That's what happened to him when he moved to Israel from Passaic four years ago.

The group becomes a de facto support group and a pseudo family, says Berger, who described her first day essentially like this: She made aliyah, got to the country without knowing anyone, found an apartment, and then basically said to herself, "Now what?"

As the tiny bar fills with English speakers, the "now what?" plays itself out in front of us, as Moshe Fisch, who has just arrived in Israel to spend two years studying at a progressive yeshiva called Pardes, shows up with a new friend. As the night progresses, the 29-year-old Yeshiva of North Jersey product from Teaneck is introduced around the bars. He drinks a few beers and picks up new friends along the way.

And the glue that holds them together is a devotion to their new homeland.

"There's a togetherness here because we all love this country," says Michael Berezin, 27, who made aliyah form New York in 2001. "We're all here for the ideology. We all could have stayed where we were and had better jobs, but we decided we should be in Israel."

Berezin is typical of the crowd in that he studied in the states to become a psychologist. But here he is a marketer for a credit-card company.

"Israel is a different mindset," he says. "You do what you have to do to pay the bills."

And right now, most are quite happy to be in Jerusalem, especially because it feels safe.

During the early years of the second intifada, which started in 2000, those who lived here say that Jerusalem was empty, people were afraid to go out, and tourism dried up.

But the feeling now is different. Israel beefed up security everywhere, and you cannot even get into a coffee shop without first passing through a metal-detector-bearing security guard. Now, since the war so far has only affected the north, there is an almost superficial euphoric feeling — though beneath it lies an anxiety that few seem to want to talk about.

But when you get them started, there is a certain aggressiveness about Israel's offensive in Lebanon. "We have to do this," says Berezin. "We have to show that Lebanon can't f___ with us."

But still, the war is here.

It's there and visible Friday morning at brunch at Tal Bagels, an outdoor café on Emek Refaim Street. The scene might be replicated on the streets of Manhattan at outdoor cafés every Sunday morning in New York. A fluid group of Anglos sits around a few round tables pushed together. Some brunchers come and go, some sit for hours, catching up on who's getting married, who's not, reminiscing about the creature comforts they want — PowerAde powder, clothes from the Gap — and about the jobs they could have if they were back where they came from. One had a cushy job working for a fashion company. One has degree after degree and now is a marketer for a tech firm. But the conversation stops momentarily when someone gets a call with news that a friend has been called up to the reserves.

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6. "Olmert: These Days Demand Sacrifice" by Moran Zelikovich
From YNET

PM welcomes 650 new immigrants from France, who arrived in Israel despite security situation; 'Israel is happy and proud on such a day,' he tells olim. Julian Dahan from French Riviera: 'Only here I feel at home'

Prime Minister Ehud Olmert welcomed Tuesday some 650 new immigrants (olim) from France who arrived at the Ben-Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv despite the worrying security situation in the country.

"The current days demand of each of us, old or young, to make a big sacrifice," the PM told the newcomers. "Israel's enemies fire missiles from the north and south designed to hit Israeli residents in their homes and places of work. Sometimes they succeed and cause us much pain," he added.

"Their weapons, even when they hurt us, are nothing like the powerful, secret weapon we possess: The Jewish people that love the State of Israel, live here and want to protect this country. They don't understand the special bond between the Jewish people across the world, and the special feeling of love and mutual commitment that prevails between all Jews, regardless of where they are," Olmert stated.

'We can overcome our enemies'

In his speech the PM hinted that the military campaign Israel is involved in may last for quite some time: "We are a strong people. We have the stamina required for prolonged battles, and we will carry on with this operation in order to obtain all our goals and overcome the enemies trying to harm the State of Israel and its people."

Olmert greeted the olim, saying that on a day when new immigrants arrive in the country, the entire state rejoices. "On a day when Jews who live in a western country, who have a choice, who are persecuted by no one, decide to come here – on such a day the State of Israel stands proud and happy, and it says to you: Welcome to the land of Israel."

The number of olim that arrived today with the assistance of the Jewish Agency, represents a new record matched only by aliya in the 70s . In the coming weeks another 700 new immigrants are expected to come from France.

Minister of Immigration and Absorption Zeev Boim explained: "The olim come here despite the war and out of Zionism and faith. In spite of the war there have been no cancellations. This certainly isn't 'distress immigration' but a move done out of choice."

'First of all – we want falafel'

One of the new olim, Julian Dahan, 29, who came here from the French Riviera, is unmoved by the fact he had left his classy lifestyle behind: "Everything in France is superficial. In any other place in the world I felt like I'm waiting for something, only here I feel like I'm home." Dahan claimed that he is not scared by the rockets: "It's a lot more dangerous in France, there are a lot of petty criminals and crime."

The Fabian family from Marseille–Yvonne and Jean Pierre with their two children – are also not afraid: "We're not scared and don't feel like we're at war. The only thing we're concerned about is how our lives will change and how we'll manage to integrate here."

Tami Gansia and Raul Vaknin who emigrated from Toulouse, have their minds set on one thing only: "First of all, to eat falafel. Then we'll worry about the rest. Life is good where you make it good, anywhere in the world. It was important for me to immigrate to Israel in order to prevent assimilation. I have an adolescent son and a grown up son who has been living in Israel for five years, and we wish to live next to him in Netanya," Tami stated.

Shalom! We are proud to present another issue of Kummunique.
This issue is filled with Aliyah and Eretz Yisrael inspiration - so enjoy!

In this issue you will find:

1. "My Mother's Miracle" by Malkah Fleisher
2. "Fruit of the Land - Israel´s Wine Revolution" by Ezra Halevi
3. "The Transatlantic Commuter - Living in Israel, Working in the States" by Dodi Tobin, Chaim I. Waxman
4. "My True Story About Burial In Israel" Keren Neshama Burdt

***Check out Ezra's latest NBN Aliyah photo essay***

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1. "My Mother's Miracle" by Malkah Fleisher

For the last 6 weeks, my mother has been in a coma. For those of you who weren't aware of this horrible story, suffice it to say that my mother had an accident which landed her in the hospital with a brain injury and a heart attack, and she has been fighting for her life since.

Since the first moment, she has been receiving world class medical care. However, during the course of this sudden illness, my husband and I, my family, my friends, and even my listeners at Israel National Radio have been praying for my mother. We have visited the ohel of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, consulted a kabbalist, and shared her Hebrew name with anyone who might add her name in their daily prayers. And of course, we have worried, and waited.

Two days ago, after having her tracheostomy removed, my mother spoke for the first time in 6 weeks. She uttered the words: "Give me some Jew food!" I kid you not.

The process of awakening from a coma is gradual, featuring stages including confusion, unusual language or expressions, aggression, hilarity, etc. My mother, not a person who is in the habit of referring to anything as "Jew food", is in one of these intermediate stages. So it was all the more shocking as her theme carried over into everything she said.

She asked for a food she hates: matzah (she rejected one of her favorites: lobster). She asked for gefilte fish. She asked for Ahava lotions from Israel. And then she said that a rabbi came to visit her. There was a rabbi from a Conservative synagogue who visited my mother during the early stages of her hospitalization. I would be surprised if she remembered him, seeing as she didn't remember that I came to visit, which would have been much more meaningful to her. It is still unclear who this "rabbi" was, but he was juxtaposed to some "little scumbags with mustaches". When I tell this story, some people burst out laughing. But for me, her words signal something much more serious – a heavenly court. I believe that my mother was taken before the heavenly court, or otherwise brought to face forces of good and evil. And the "rabbi" saved her.

My father and my sister, who do not perform the commandments that our Creator set out for us in the Torah, are utterly shocked by my mother's semi-conscious revelations. My father has expressed his belief that my mother met Satan. My sister is considering "becoming more Orthodox". As for me, I believe that my decision to become religious and to move to the Land of Israel, may have had a role in my mother's recovery, and I am humbled and astounded by the mercy and goodness of G-d. This is the power of prayer. This is the merit of the Land of Israel.

So in honor of my mother and the miraculousness of her recovery, I offer this recipe for real "Jew Food":

Malkah's Healing Chicken Soup

1/2 chicken, fresh or thawed

8 allspice balls

1 large onion, halved

the stems of one bunch of parsley, tied together

5 cloves garlic, chopped

1 parsnip, peeled and sliced

3 carrots, peeled and sliced

1 medium sweet potato, cubed

1 large white potato, cubed

1 stalk celery, chopped (or the tops from a bunch of celery)

4Tbs salt

Fill stock pot 3/4 full with water. Add salt, bring to boil. Add the potatoes, garlic onion, and boil for 10 minutes. Add the remainder of the ingredients and boil until you can easily pull the chicken apart in shreds. Try not to overcook. Remove the chicken, cut in chunks, return to soup. Removed the parsley, the onion, and the celery tops (if you chopped a stalk, leave it in). Serve hot, and savor the Jewishness.

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2. "Fruit of the Land - Israel´s Wine Revolution" by Ezra Halevi
From Israel National News
(Click above link for wonderful Israel photos)

The Israel Museum recently hosted an Israeli wine festival showcasing Israel's finest vintners and their vintages, for some of Israel's finest tasters, as well as local Jerusalemite enthusiasts.

In addition to the flavorful assortment that Israel's wineries have to offer the public, are unique and powerful narratives, often connecting modern vineyard techniques to their location's biblical past.

Winemakers, some looking like they came from northern Tel Aviv and others looking like they came from a windswept hilltop waxed poetic about the local soil, time of harvest and strain of grape – and how all contributed to the bouquet of flavor encased in the bottles in front of them.

Although much of Israeli society has moved away from agriculture, the global demand for kosher wine has breathed new life into one of the most indigenous practices of the Land of Israel. Producing kosher wine, by definition, necessitates not only Avoda Ivrit (Hebrew labor) - that Jews perform every step of the process – but that the winemakers be intimately in touch with the soil, rainfall and topography of their vineyards.

Each Israeli winery has a story and is fiercely proud of its region and methods of fermentation and storage. The Tishbi family began its wine story in 1882, when Malka and Michael Chamilnetzki made Aliyah to the Holy Land from Russia and settled at the foot of Zichron Yaakov, in the village of Shefeya. They adopted the name Tishbi, which is a Hebrew acronym for "resident of Shefeya in Israel." They produced grapes for Carmel Winery, Israel's largest winery, now its neighbor in Zichron Yaakov. Twenty years ago, though, Jonathan Tishbi, whose black and white photo graces the labels of Tishbi's prize wines, decided to open his own winery.

"Israel has undergone a wine revolution," Or Leshem of Tishbi Winery said after swishing the 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon he was showcasing at the Israel Wine Festival in Jerusalem this week.

Initially using grapes from the area, Tishbi now sends Or Leshem to taste and test grapes all across Israel, searching for the best fruits for their wine. The 2003 Cabernet was made using grapes from both Kfar Yovel, in the north, and Gush Etzion, south of Jerusalem.

Tishbi's white wines featured a new innovation, showcased at the festival though not yet available to the wider market: screw tops instead of corks. "People generally think wine with a screw-top is of less quality," Leshem explains, "but in fact, for white wines and young red wines, the only way I can be certain that they will taste exactly the way it tasted to me immediately before bottling is with the screw-cap."

According to Leshem, research on alternatives to corks has been underway for a long time. Traditional corks allow a certain amount of oxidization to occur which results in changed taste in almost 10 percent of bottles. However, to change the common perceptions of the public, Leshem believes the industry must undergo a marketing effort to rid screw-caps of the low-quality stigma before they are used widely.

Though years ago Israeli wines all shared the stigma of being sweet Kiddush wine, they are now present at wine competitions across the globe and take home medals against the best French and Italian wines. The drastic improvement is due, in no small part, to the influx of French Jewish immigrants to Israel in recent years, in addition to the increasing demand for fine kosher wines.

Kfar Tabor Winery offered the festival-goers its 2005 Sauvignon Blanc, which is a dry white wine, yet tastes quite sweet. "It is a completely dry wine," insists the winemaker, "not semi-dry, but dry. There are less than 2 grams of sugar, but the flavors of caramel and honey, which come from the unique soil of the region, manifest themselves strongly."

The winery is located on the African-Syrian Fault Line, resulting in a unique phenomenon whereby four unique kinds of soil are present in the region: clay, chalk, volcanic and terra rosa (red soil). Each of the soils gives unique qualities to the grapes grown upon it. "Chalky soil gives the grapes acidity, fruitiness and a mineral quality," the winemaker explained. "Terra rosa gives warmth, richness and the flavors of tobacco, blackberries and plums; clay makes the flavors even more extreme and volcanic soil makes for smooth and light wine."

The Ella Valley Winery is located near ancient winepresses in the Gush Etzion-Beit Shemesh region. It is seven years old and the winemaker said it takes four or five years for grapes to reach a maturity necessary to produce wine. In any event, according to Jewish law, fruit of the tree and vine cannot be used in the first three years as it has the Biblical status of orla.

The Tanya Winery is truly a return to the roots of Biblical Jewish wine making. Wine was a crucial part of the services and sacrifices in the Holy Temple and the regions north and south of Jerusalem were covered with vines and speckled with wine-presses. Winemaker Yoram Cohen, born in the Negev development town of Netivot, was one of 17 children. He was "infected with the wine bug" after helping his father produce wine from grapes harvested by local Jewish farmers in the southern Hevron Hills.

In 2000, Cohen decided to close his photographic news agency due to what he calls a "lack of chemistry" with the world of global media. He then began to concentrate on producing the ultimate Jewish wine. He says he believes in "minimal intervention in the growing process," a philosophy he says he applies equally to his own children as well as the grapes. "They both should be allowed to grow up by following their hearts in a loving atmosphere," he says.

He established the winery in 2001 in the Binyamin region town of Ofra. He has no employees and aims to produce 40,000 bottles of wine a year together with his wife and their seven children (one of whom shares her name with the winery).

The grapes used by Cohen were grown in the Hevron Hills and Gush Etzion, as well as the Samarian towns of Dolev and Har Bracha - with the latter being the main source of grapes for the winery. The vines in Har Bracha are on the side of the highest mountain in the region, overlooking Shechem and Joseph's Tomb. The grapes are all harvested at night to ensure that the fermentation process does not begin prematurely.

"Where is Ofra?" asked an excited attendee of the festival after tasting the wine. "
"In the area of the tribe of Binyamin," he answers.

The man's eyes lack a look of recognition until Yoram says, "near Ramallah," and he looks surprised as he asks for a taste of the Cabarnet Savignon.

Another winery whose popularity has taken the market by storm by proudly marketing its location in the center of the Biblical heartland is the Noah/Hevron Heights Winery. The winery is the brainchild and inspiration of a group of dedicated and committed French Jewish immigrants to Israel - to bring kosher winemaking back to the original site of Jewish habitation in the Land of Israel.

The winery produces wines with names like Isaac's Ram and Makhpelah Special Reserve," made with grapes grown near Hevron's Makhpela Cave of the Patriarchs, where the Jewish patriarchs are buried.

Further south, in Judea, is the Yatir Winery, which uses grapes from the Yatir forest – Israel's largest man-made forest, located on the southern edge of Judea bordering on the Negev desert.

The Binyamina Winery, founded in the 50s, has produced much of Israel's wine ever since then. It, like Tishbi, is experimenting with screw-caps on wines such as its Gewürztraminer, which tastes like the essense of summer fruits.

The Dalton Winery, located in a northern Moshav by the same name, produces a wide array of wines, including a white and red marked for export to the US under the name Canaan.

The Israeli wine revolution continues and is strengthening, crossing political lines and geographic terrain in search of depth of taste and, "preparing for the day that wine libations are once again offered in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem," as one man blessed Yoram Cohen before booming, "L'Chaim," and drinking up.

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3. "The Transatlantic Commuter - Living in Israel, Working in the States" by Dodi Tobin, Chaim I. Waxman
From the OU's Jewish Action Magazine

Until recently, evidence suggested that an American's success at aliyah depended upon his willingness to disconnect from the United States. For example, olim who sold their homes in the United States were more likely to remain in Israel than those who held on to them "just in case."Although this observation is still true, a new pattern has emerged indicating that having a foot in the United States may actually enable a successful move.

Specifically, we refer to the growing phenomenon of American olim who continue to work in the United States. In case you doubt the prevalence of this phenomenon, try booking an El Al flight from the United States to Israel for a Thursday evening or from Israel to the United States on a Saturday or Sunday night, especially in business class. These flights are packed with regular commuters. While no precise figures of these commuters presently exist, a good guesstimate would be several hundred or possibly even several thousand.

Moshe Schilit struggled with the decision to commute after he and his wife, Shoshanna, made aliyah in 1986. A computer programmer, Moshe had originally planned to commute for no more than a year, after which he would begin a computer job in Israel that he had already accepted. Ultimately, his company in the United States made him an offer that the couple felt they could not refuse. Today, Moshe is still commuting—he is in the United States three weeks out of every month. "A lot of people thought it odd," Shoshanna admits. "It was not common back then. We didn't plan it this way … but that's the way it worked out."

Some olim, such as Lenny Solomon, the CEO of Shlock Rock, have no choice but to commute. Lenny's work, by its very nature, takes him on tour around the United States and elsewhere. When he's on tour, it's a "travel marathon nightmare." "I perform in concerts all over the country … doing musical outreach," says Lenny, who lives with his wife, Gillian, and their four girls in Beit Shemesh. "We spread Jewish awareness and pride through our music. It's informal Jewish education. The message is 'Be cool; be Jewish. Stay involved; keep learning.' To do that in Israel, I'd have to be fluent in Hebrew, which I'm not." He realizes that unless he makes it "really big," he'll be commuting as he now does "at least until I'm fifty....There's no other option," he says. "I am unable to recreate the profession I have in America here. I would have to work much more, with less satisfaction. It would be incredibly disappointing for me to have to become a Bar Mitzvah or wedding player. It might happen one day, but I'm hoping it won't."

American olim are certainly not the only transnational commuters. However, the phenomenon of American olim who work in the United States appears to be unique. Evidence suggests that there is no other group of transnational commuters who travel such a long distance and in such great numbers. Out of the approximately 3,000 American families who have made aliyah in the past ten years and have remained in Israel, perhaps as many as 30 percent have a family member commuting to work in the United States. This trend is only possible because of recent technological developments, including improved airline services for business-class travelers, which make travel more tolerable; innovations in communications and the growing role of telecommuting. "Outsourcing has become more popular worldwide, so more companies are allowing people to do their jobs off-site," says Daniella Slasky, the director of employment at Nefesh B'Nefesh, an organization that promotes North American aliyah.

Gilad Weinberg is a recent oleh who has taken full advantage of this corporate trend. Gilad, who lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with his wife, Batia, and their four children, began a "virtual relationship" with his company even before he made aliyah. For several months Gilad worked at home three days a week. When he and Batia became serious about aliyah, he approached his supervisors with the following proposition: He would work at the office 25 percent of the time and at home 75 percent of the time. The company was willing to try it. Gilad currently travels to the United States about twice a month for three days and manages to participate in about 75 percent of the company's meetings.

Commuting to a job in the United States can be advantageous to a new oleh family, ensuring steady income and sidestepping the stress of professionally "starting over." "When you make aliyah, not only are you going through the trauma of immigration, but you are also unemployed,"says Slasky. "The comfort of having a job that you can take with you is significant. For many commuters, the situation is only temporary, with the American job serving as a 'bridge' for six months or a year, ensuring the family an income until a job is found in Israel. "The fear of being unemployed is so strong," Slasky adds, "that employment is often the critical factor in determining whether someone will actually make aliyah. So many people say to me, 'The only way I'll come is if I have a job.'"

Professional growth is another motivation for commuting. Some commuters indicated that they are better able to do what they were trained to do in a cultural environment that is familiar to them. In addition, because the United States is larger and more developed, the potential for professional growth is much greater here. Indeed, evidence indicates that the desire for professional growth and development is one of the major reasons American olim give up on aliyah. It has been estimated that in years past one-third or more of American olim have returned to live in the United States. However, in recent years, the rate of returning olim has declined, and it is entirely possible that the commuting phenomenon is at least partly responsible for the decline.

Contemporary American olim are different from their American predecessors who arrived in the pre-state and early-state years. Whereas the latter tended to be young and single, today's olim are mostly married with young children. In addition, in today's oleh families, the heads of households have completed their education and bring with them several years of work experience. Today's olim are also unique in regard to the occupations they choose, and it is this uniqueness which probably accounts for the relatively large number of commuters to the United States.

Overwhelmingly, the commuters are professionals—accountants, physicians, lawyers, computer specialists and other high-tech professionals—and there is a greater demand for their services in the United States. Data from Israel's Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS), the 2000-2001 National Jewish Population Survey (NJPS) and the US Census Bureau starkly demonstrate that there is a higher rate of professionals and managers among American olim than among Jews who remain in the United States.

Among American olim, 82 percent of those with known occupations are in professional or managerial positions. These individuals are more likely to commute because their jobs are usually flexible and do not require them to be available nine to five, Monday through Friday. Thus, it seems that commuting and telecommuting allow thirty-something-year-old seasoned professionals to seriously consider aliyah. And so ensues an interesting cycle—Israel gains more citizens, but fewer employees. Physicians, in particular, are highly represented among commuter olim.

According to Slasky, doctors choose to commute because "the salary difference [between Israel and the United States] is significant, as opposed to other professions where there is less of a gap." Doctors who wish to practice in Israel must first obtain an Israeli medical license. Licensing includes examinations and an unpaid internship, a process that can take several months or longer. For many American doctors, particularly those with experience, this may seem to be more trouble than it's worth, especially since doctors in Israel are held in lower esteem than their American counterparts.

Debby Jotkowitz, a dermatologist at Hadassah University Medical Center in Jerusalem, and her husband, Alan, a senior physician in the Soroka Medical Center in Be'er Sheva, decided to forgo higher salaries and prestige for a higher ideal when they made aliyah in 2001. "One of the goals of aliyah is to contribute to Israeli society, and that was most important to us," says Alan. "Practicing medicine in Israel also enabled us to integrate into Israeli culture in a way we couldn't have done otherwise."

Modern travel has impacted the workplace so that even those with Israelbased jobs may be spending more time traveling for work. Three years ago, Ari Solomont, his wife, Sara Beth, and their four children, moved from Boston to Chashmonaim, a yishuv situated midway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Ari, who had served as regional director of the New England Region of NCSY (National Conference of Synagogue Youth), the Orthodox Union's youth group, for ten years, was appointed international director of resource development at Ner LeElef in Jerusalem, a position he loves but which requires him to travel to the United States for ten days each month. While not overjoyed that Ari has to travel, Sara Beth feels that "this job is … really him."

The commuting phenomenon can also be viewed as having positive financial consequences for Israel. The commuters earn their money abroad and spend the bulk of it in Israel. But what of the impact of commuting upon the emotional well being of the marriage and family? The Schilits, who live in Beit Shemesh and have four children, three of whom were born after Moshe was already commuting, made a point of normalizing their situation from the outset. "Everybody creates their own 'normal,'" says Shoshanna. "I recently read an article about husbands who cope with wives stricken with breast cancer. They said that the adjustment period is hard, and then they come to some kind of reality that they call the 'new normal.' This [commuting] is our 'new normal.'"

"It's a way of life. Period," says Moshe. "Sometimes it's easy, sometimes hard…. [Our kids] know it's our way of life and they don't question it." Shoshanna contends that maintaining routine is essential. "We don't stop school; we don't stop homework; we don't stop tests; we don't stop bedtime routine…. It's normal for Abba to be in and out … but we still do what we have to do." Shoshanna is extremely positive about the benefits of her husband's commute, which include material ease as well as being able to visit relatives overseas and to send their kids to summer camp in the United States. But Shoshanna, who is a commuting "veteran" of nineteen years, emphasizes that getting used to this lifestyle takes time.

For many new oleh families, simultaneously adjusting to a life in Israel and to a commuting arrangement is a real strain. On the one hand, most women whose husbands commute to the United States don't have to worry about spending money, and don't have to work. This enables them to focus their energies on setting up a home, adjusting to a new culture and meeting the needs of their children. In addition, many couples report that when the commuters are home they are able to spend more "couple" time than they were prior to making aliyah. The commuters also tend to take active roles in regard to household chores and are highly engaged with their children. Still, many would be hard-pressed to deem the arrangement ideal.

"This is the sacrifice we have to make in order to live in Eretz Yisrael," affirms Sara Beth. "But I want my children to know that it's not normal for their father to be away ten days every month. It's not how it's supposed to be." "The biggest challenge for me is knowing what my wife is facing," says Ari. "What she is doing shouldn't be done alone. She's not a single mother."

Avi Silverman, a director of social services at Nefesh B'Nefesh, views commuting as "doable" but a "totally bedi'eved [ex post-facto] situation." "I wouldn't rule it out if it's necessary, but you have to know all the permutations of what a marriage is going to be like," he says. The recognition that many new olim are grappling with challenges arising from the commuting life has prompted the Nefesh B'Nefesh Social Services Department to set up a support group for commuter families. The group offers support, validation and assistance in coping with a range of issues that stem from the commuting lifestyle.

"At night when the kids [all need] me at once, and Ari isn't around, … learning how to juggle—that is probably the hardest thing for me," admits Sara Beth. Silverman observes that some of the women who come to the support sessions express resentment about the commute and the challenges they are left to face alone. Silverman voices some of the sentiments he hears from some of the wives: "If [the commute] had been in five years and I was settled, it would be okay. But I'm not settled. I'm trying to get my kids settled; I don't have a chevrah. I'm still figuring out where the supermarkets are while [my husband] is back in the [United States] where everything is easy and familiar. He brought me here to deal with all of this alone?"

These reactions are in line with studies of families in the United States who were forced to relocate because of the husband's job. In the studies, the wives and children in these families were found to harbor anger about the move. How do the husbands feel about leaving? According to Silverman, some carry guilt that they have caused something akin to a "divorce" within the context of a perfectly good marriage. Their wives serve as "single parents" while they are gone—going to semachot alone, making Shabbat alone. The commuter spouse also has to deal with coming in and out of his family's life, a life that seems to be running smoothly without him. "How much do you [the wife] bring him into your life, how much do you keep him out of your life?" Silverman asks. "How much do the children accept him again, how much do they need to keep their distance because it hurts so much when he comes and goes? These are all serious questions."

Commuting fathers may have to miss many special events in their children's lives, including birthday parties and siyumim. And then there is the inherent loneliness the commuter feels while working in the United States. "I fill my days with volunteer work; I don't have much time to 'pine away,'" says Shoshanna. "Moshe is very busy too, but when he comes home [when in the States], he comes home to empty rooms." Sara Beth concurs. "I can imagine it's very lonely for [my husband]. He never knows where he will be sleeping … he spends a lot of time in the car by himself [in the States], while his reality is here. That's got to be hard."

For Ari, feeling lonely is a good sign. "If you start to like the fact that you are waking up alone, then it's time to stop commuting." Although commuter couples face significant challenges, several women report that the experience contributes to their personal growth. "We bought an apartment in Rechovot, and I fixed it up," says Shoshanna. "I ran everything: I dealt with kablanim [contractors] and shiputzim [renovations]. All these were 'empowerment experiences.'"

"Know where your bank account is and where your life insurance papers are and how to turn the gas on and off," adds Sara Beth. "If those are things you've relied upon your husband for … you figure it out. You have to find the inner strength…. You have to try to see the good. You can either be miserable and make everyone around you miserable or you can make the best of it. You have that choice. How do you want to live your life?" It seems obvious that in order to successfully navigate the demands of a commuting life in Israel, you need a solid marital foundation. In Moshe's view, a strong marriage is so vital that he cautions, "If your wife is not sure about it or [is] questioning it, I would say, don't even think about it. You're going to fail."

And what of the impact of commuting on the children? "I think in the beginning everyone has a rocky time. They don't know what it means that Abba is going away for a week or two weeks or even a month," says Silverman, but "the kids get used to it. Kids are malleable. If they see that their parents are shalem [complete], kids can deal with it," he says. "Once the parents bring in tension, it filters down." Realistically, the full impact of commuting on these children will only be known in years to come. Unlike twenty years ago, when the Schilits spoke once a week at three dollars a minute, the technological advances of today enable commuters to keep in constant contact with family members via telephone and e-mail.

Ongoing contact no doubt lessens the feeling of abandonment amongst all family members. Shoshanna says that she and Moshe are in touch two or three times a day. "Moshe makes time to learn with the boys on the telephone, as often as needed.. .. We feel that the telephone is in place of the psychiatrist's couch. We don't need counseling because we are communicating. We feel investing in the telephone calls is good for our marriage, and good for our connection."

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4. "My True Story About Burial In Israel" Keren Neshama Burdt

My Dear Brother passed away suddenly at the age of 52, back in August of 2001. Now my father and stepmother are NOT Jewish. In fact my brother did not live a Jewish religious life. This was due to the fact that my Jewish mother left while we were young and was unable to take care of us. So my father and stepmother raised us. Only by hashgacha pratis, did I and my husband become a BT about 9 years ago. We started attending services at our local Chabad house B" H.The rest as they say is history. Now our 3 children are learning about being Jewish too. G-d willing our grandchildren will be raised as Jews.

My brother was cremated without my knowledge by my father and stepmother before they even had a service for him. Then his ashes sat on a table in my parents dining room next to a picture of him. It bothered me deeply. Then less than 2 years later my father died after complications of open heart surgury. Of course my stepmother had him cremated also and it was his wish, so nothing I could say or do about it. But my DH (Dear Husband) & I were planning our first trip to Eretz HaKadosh. So we approached my stepmother and asked if we could take my brothers ashes to Israel with us to bury him there. Well my stepmother & my sisters (who are 1/2 sisters) were not happy about this at all. But we would not take no for an answer and I explained how beneficial it would be for his soul, since he is by birth a Jew. I also approached my niece who was wholeheartedly in favor of him being buried in Israel.

So we got permission and last year in October of 2005 we took off for Israel and packed his ashes in our suitcase. Of course it was confiscated by the Israeli customs agents and they opened it to make sure there wasn't a bomb inside. I was not happy about this, but they brought the ashes to us 2 days later where we were staying in Netanya. We made several trips to Jerusalem where I wanted to find a place to bury my brother. I couldn't find a place to do it. Finally a day before we were due to return home, we walked outside of our hotel and waived a Taxi. By hashgacha pratis, Hashem brought us the kindest man who ever drove a Taxi. We explained to him that we were trying to find a place to bury my brother who had been cremated against his will. So he took us to the Mt. of Olives Cemetary. They told us to call a certain Rabbi that deals with the burials there, and he was not receptive to having my brother buried, in fact he wanted us to prove to him that we were Jews and that my brother was Jewish. Of course we didn't bring his death certificate and had no proof of his being Jewish. So this dear Taxi driver took us across town to his Rabbi in the neighborhood that he grew up in. He told us he would take the rest of the day to take us wherever we needed to go, as he wanted to make sure we were able to fulfill our mission. We talked to his Rabbi for a while and he made some calls, but since we didn't have a death certificate we couldn't bury him in a cemetary in Jerusalem or anywhere else in Israel.

I was crushed. We had come all this way and now we had to return home in 24 hours. How could I find a place to bury him... Well... we got in our rental car and headed back to Netanya. On the way down from Jerusalem I prayed to Hashem regarding the matter... All of a sudden I felt something telling me to take the exit to Modi'in there was a sign that said there was the entrance to the Ayalon Forest. So I told my husband to pull off to the entrance to the Forest. We went through the entrance and there was no one in sight, but there were picnic tables and a place to park. So we parked and started walking around. I told my husband that this is where Hashem wants us to bury him. So we went up and up the hill to almost the very top. It was so peaceful and quiet, so beautiful. You could actually see the back-side of Jerusalem from there. We found a spot above an ancient stone wall and between 2 ancient olive trees.

It was perfect! We dug a hole and I opened the box and poured his ashes in the hole. I covered it and placed some rocks on top of it. Then I took out my siddur and said a burial prayer for my brother. My daughter was taking pictures with our digital camera. The strangest thing happened... the pictures turned out an eerie silver & black color for about 2 to3 minutes the camera did this. (Please see attached photo) We also felt this very warm and peaceful feeling settle over the place. We were in awe of Hashem at this moment. Everyone who has seen these pictures says it is as if my brother's soul was released at that moment and he was letting us know that he was happy about being buried there, and was finally at rest. I know we did the right thing and now when we return to Israel I know that my brother is there and at peace. G-d willing we will make aliyah and not have to leave, and we too will be able to be buried in Eretz HaKadosh! Amein v'amein!

Shalom! We are proud to present another issue of Kummunique.
This issue is filled with Aliyah and Eretz Yisrael inspiration - so enjoy!

In this issue you will find:

1. "Are You Keeping Your Options Open?" By Pinchas Orbach
2. "Dreaming Of Nine To Five" by Tamar Wisemon
3. "Aliyah 2006: Here They Come!"
4. "Arrivals: From Worcester, Mass. to Jerusalem" by Helga Abraham

Check it out at THE KUMMUNIQUE HOME

***ANNOUNCEMENT - ON BOARD WITH NBN AUDIO***
Malkah and I had the great pleasure of accompanying the July 5th Nefesh B'Nefesh Aliyah flight out of JFK. We were able to catch some amazing audio on the flight with so many people: Olim young and old, officials, NBN staff, and flight attendants all poured their heart out about Aliyah. Our four hours cover the whole flight from luggage check-in at JFK to the conveyor belt in Ben Gurion. I believe that these sounds are inspirational and I hope you will take the time to hear the wonderful voices of Aliyah.

I have provided the links to all the hours below, and the show is also posted prominently on ISRAEL NATIONAL RADIO

To hear Hour One click here
To download Hour One click here

To hear Hour Two click here
To download Hour Two click here

To hear Hour Three click here
To download Hour Three click here

To hear Hour Four click here
To download Hour Four click here

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1. "Are You Keeping Your Options Open?" By Pinchas Orbach

Today marks the one year anniversary of my Aliyah, my move to Israel. On this date exactly one year ago I stepped on a plane at JFK airport. It was an event that would dramatically alter the course my life forever. After many years – yes, years - of research I knew all too well what I was getting myself into. I knew about all the hitches and challenges, about all the drawbacks and snags, and about all the shortcomings and hardships involved in completely changing my life. And I also know they were all more than worth it for so many reasons!

And the one I have always considered to be the single most important reason is actually quite simple. I don't want to raise a family in Chutz L'aretz (outside our Homeland). For thousands of years we literally had no choice. Now we do. Honestly, there was not a single obstacle preventing me from making Aliyah. Excuses? Oh, there were plenty of excuses! We hear about those everyday. And I'm sure I could have tried to clear my conscience by picking and choosing from any one of those like so many of my friends are doing today.

Now this piece is not about reasons for making Aliyah. Nor it is about obstacles and excuses preventing so many of our fellow Jews from coming Home. Indeed I have already written about all of that many times in the past. Instead I write of a phenomenon I have witnessed before I came, and something still occurring today and more than ever before.

Three years ago I founded a little endeavor called Project SingOlim. Our mission statement declares: "The goal of Project SingOlim is to prove that there is NO NEED to 'compromise' on either Aliyah or on getting married. Whether you have a pioneer spirit or would prefer to share this common goal with someone special, Aliyah can be the most powerful experience in the world!" I found this project to be necessary because all too often I would hear people say things like "well, she's willing to make Aliyah." Or "she'd love to live in Israel, but you know, she has to keep her options open." Aliyah is reduced to a mere preference or worse – a compromise!

Making Aliyah is not like moving from Flatbush to Teaneck. It's a different country, with a different language and a different culture. It is something that has to be done very carefully to do it right. And it is something that has to be done unconditionally. If you decide Aliyah is for you – and I believe it is right for all Jews - you have to hold your breath and just do it. That does not mean do it blindly. Indeed there is plenty of homework you can do to prepare responsibly and no shortage of people to help you make your Aliyah a success. But you do have to set your mind on the goal.

I know so many people that are still shidduch dating in New York because they feel Aliyah will "hurt their chances." With that mindset one may never realize the goal of making Aliyah. Besides there is no shortage at all of single olim and not to mention English speaking Israelis to date here in Israel. (And by the way there are also Hebrew speaking Israelis.)

Personally I was a bit surprised because not only have I been getting just as many or more dates than I did in New York but I'm having better dates. I am meeting more and more like minded people that are just as committed to Aliyah and living in Israel as I am, since after all, they also "took the plunge" and did not let any excuses get in their way.

So if you are still hesitating to make Aliyah for some reason or another please ask yourself one simple question.

Are you keeping your options open or are you keeping your dreams closed?

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2. "Dreaming Of Nine To Five" by Tamar Wisemon
From Jerusalem Post

At 25, Chevy Weiss had parlayed over a decade of youthful political activism into a successful career as an independent political consultant in Washington, DC. With numerous Republican connections and her PhD in political science nearly complete, Weiss says moving to Israel was not on her agenda.

"I was born [in Israel] but my parents moved back to the US when I was two," she says. "I wasn't interested in moving back." But during a visit to Russia, Weiss met "a great guy living in Israel," eventually giving up a great career and friends to hop on a plane to Israel. Though she has continued to work long-distance for some of her American political clients, Weiss had to begin in Israel at entry level.

"You have to be willing to begin at the bottom and take baby steps," she says. "Israel is a hard place to work and you really have to learn your way around. That's what it takes to make it here, and I was very determined to be successful."

Today, many of Weiss' former employers have become her clients at Global Visions Israel, the public relations company she founded in 1998 near her home in Ramat Beit Shemesh. Current clients include the International Council of Jewish Women and Yeshiva University in Israel.

"I saw there was a huge need for a company like mine," Weiss says. Her company has thrived, she says, bringing "modern US PR strategy to Israel."

Weiss' hard work and professional patience appear to have worked. "We started as a one-person office and I now have eight employees," she says. "Our client list is growing and we have earned ourselves a good reputation; people have approached us to open additional offices in Tel Aviv.

"Our US clients come to us because we charge less for the same high quality; the Israelis come because we are familiar with foreign audiences. We don't pretend to be in the US. Our clients call us, we call them back and [then] have conference calls. [We] manage the rest through e-mail."

Despite her success in Israel, however, Weiss is still wistful about leaving Washington.

"The US political arena is more exciting - people making a change for the world and influencing it," she says. But, she adds, "What I do here is not remarkably different. I took my skills and channeled them into a different environment - public relations - which incorporates political, educational, business and non-profit institutions. Much of my political work involved researching public issues and planning campaign strategy, understanding the environment in which I was working and communicating, and that's the stuff I use here."

Weiss says she thinks many entrepreneurs born outside Israel make the mistake of moving too aggressively or giving up when trying to find a job. In Israel, she says, flexibility is key.

Danielle Slasky, director of employment at Nefesh B'Nefesh, an organization helping Jews from North America make aliya, claims the majority of Nefesh B'Nefesh immigrants have found work in Israel and only a handful have needed to formally retrain. Most of those who came with careers have stayed within their field, she says, though many have switched to new areas within that industry. She cites as examples computer programmers who became technical writers, journalists who entered other writing fields and scientists who have become patent writers.

"Very few people totally change their career," says Slasky. "We always want people to have realistic expectations. Some do have to take a step back, though many stay on the same level."

Leemor Machnai, Chief Executive Officer of Machnai, Weiss & Partners, an international executive search company based in Tel Aviv, says, "English is definitely relevant for 99% of the positions I work on... Hebrew is an advantage but it is not essential.

"I sometimes have very senior positions for which very few people in Israel have the requisite experience," Machnai admits, "we may even bring over talent from outside Israel if that particular talent is not here."

Because she looks for professionals who've worked for multi-national companies, Machnai considers corporate experience in the US very valuable. But she says of olim, "If they had a very unique niche position in a large company, here they may find themselves doing that position in addition to two or three other positions, because the companies are not as large."

Machnai's other advice: "Network, network and network. Try to focus on what you want to do and what type of skills you have to achieve such a job. Try to find friends, or friends of friends connected to that kind of industry. It is really hard to find jobs just through the regular channels."

AT WEISS'S public relations firm, the office manager, Ruth Wellins, graduated with a degree in psychology and the intention to become an industrial psychologist. But a pilot trip to Israel with Tehilla, the religious aliya organization, convinced her to take what she considers a more pragmatic approach.

"I spoke with many psychologists, and they all said that without good Hebrew and insight into Israeli society, I wouldn't be able to find a job in my profession," Wellins recalls. "So upon my return to Manchester, I studied for a certificate in TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language)."

That plan also turned out to have its shortcomings. While Wellins's husband, a former computer programmer at Intel UK, successfully transferred to Intel in Israel, Ruth juggled a variety of English teaching jobs until the couple moved to Ramat Bet Shemesh, home to a high proportion of English-speaking olim, and Wellins's English teaching skills lost much of their value. Searching for an alternative, she landed her administrative position at Global Visions Israel.

She calls the job "the perfect match - part-time, close to home, close to my children's schools and intellectually challenging."

Another immigrant who adapted her skills is Sarah Bronson, who made aliya with Nefesh B'Nefesh in July 2003, arriving in Israel with a Masters degree in journalism and freelancing experience at, among others, New York's Observer, The Jewish Week, Hadassah Magazine and the London Jewish Chronicle. Bronson hit the deck running.

"I started working as soon as I had my Internet connection and got back in touch with my previous clients," Bronson says. "One of the problems was that my Jewish media clients already had correspondents in Jerusalem, and there isn't as much room to break in."

Somewhat paradoxically, Bronson's move to Israel led her to focus on non-Israel-related topics, especially for women's magazines.

"I can do all the research on the phone and through the Internet, and it makes absolutely no difference where I live as long as I'm willing to stay up late enough at night to make my phone calls. The world is my office," Bronson says.

One of her key tools, she says, is a Packet8 telephone with a US telephone number. Unlike Weiss, who says she dislikes the sound quality of VOIP communication, Bronson points out the advantages of having a US phone number.

"The chances of a client or interviewee returning my call increase 10-fold if they can dial within the US," she explains.

Like Weiss, Bronson says most of her editors are aware of her location, and sometimes find it useful. "Figure magazine once had a feature on dating mores around the world and assigned me the Israel section," she says. Though working for overseas publications, Bronson is careful her payments are processed though Yiul Sachir, a service that converts her receipts to shekels and pays her national insurance, health fund and other taxes.

"The job market has not improved much over the past three years," says Chaim Fox-Emmett, the founder and CEO of job search firm ISRAEMPLOY. "There may be more jobs in some industries, but many people are not in the jobs of their choice."

An ISRAEMPLOY survey last year of 450 respondents found that most respondents are merely satisfied but not thrilled with their jobs. However, Fox-Emmett says, the survey showed that very few of them would be prepared to relocate within Israel for a better position - a finding he considers odd.

"If people can stay in their profession, obviously that is the best choice. But in the main, the majority are not fortunate enough to get what they trained for. When people first come, they are often not realistic enough to look beyond their first profession. When they do look further afield, some discover they are happier and have more satisfaction from their second profession," Fox-Emmett says.

The exceptions, he says, are licensed professionals - accountants, dentists and doctors, 95 percent of whom find work in their profession, though most of these require bilingual ability and a limited amount of study in Israel to qualify. The legal profession, on the other hand, already has too many people competing for positions here.

Fox-Emmett founded ISRAEMPLOY from his Ramat Bet Shemesh home in November 2002, when he was himself an unemployed new immigrant from London with a background in human resources. He created an e-mail list of job opportunities and related information for English-speakers, then watched the number of subscribers snowball.

In 2004, Fox-Emmett was awarded the first Venture Network Israel Social Entrepreneur Fellowship (ISEP) in a partnership with the New Israel Fund (NIF). This gave him the equivalent of a full-time stipend for two years, as well as the mentoring and connections needed to develop his list into the brand name it has become today.

With over 15,000 subscriptions, ISRAEMPLOY outgrew the mailing list and launched an interactive website in March that has attracted 40,000 unique hits and over 400,000 page views in its first eight weeks. Around 15 people join ISRAEMPLOY per day - but those who find jobs often unsubscribe from the service, a number he estimates to be about five people per day.

According to Fox-Emmett, the jobs most in demand today are in technical writing, software engineering and general administrative work.
"There are many Anglos who teach for private schools," he adds, "but the regular teaching profession in this country is not a desirous profession - teachers suffer from low pay [and] are subject to violence, and classroom management is an absolute nightmare."

One reason Fox-Emmett gives for the popularity of technical writing is that it can be done by English-speakers from many different work backgrounds. A Web group for technical writers, Techshoret, has around 1,300 members, all of whom are Anglos.

Because of the relative absence of ageism in technical writing, many of the applicants for writing positions are women.

"There are a lot of very intelligent women who stopped their careers to have families, and [they] see this as an ideal job to be retrained into," explains Lynn Kolber, co-founder and general manager of OnTarget, a documentation service for high tech companies. "One of our interns is in her 50s, we placed someone over 60 at Amdocs the other day. [The] oldest writer I know in the profession is 77." Kolber says technical writing is a great profession because it pays relatively well - a serious consideration when one recalls that many of the English-speaking immigrants who leave Israel do so due to financial difficulties.

Kolber made aliya from South Africa eight years ago, selling a successful training business that had six branches nationwide.

"I finished ulpan, was building a cottage [in Hod Hasharon] and saw lots of Anglos in technical writing. I had written courseware for my business and got a job on contract for Docustar," she explains. "After two years I decided to start my own business, together with a South African accountant I met here who began technical writing in his 50s."

Applicants for OnTarget's four-month internship program are carefully screened for the ability to write logically and fluently, and for persistence. The profession is not for every English speaker, Kolber warns, adding that "if you don't have the basic ability and attitude, it can be lethal." Of 25 applicants for the last internship, only eight were accepted, including a social worker, a real estate agent, a bookkeeper and a special needs teacher.

While the average technical writer doesn't need a technical background, he or she does need a lifelong aptitude for learning. A good command of Hebrew is not mandatory but provides a distinct advantage. Technical writing salaries range from between NIS 10,000 and 25,000 a month, making the profession very attractive for new olim.

LAURIE HELLER considers herself an exception to the aliya rule, having moved to Jerusalem 13 years ago after transferring her position as director of the Legacy Fund at the UJA-Federation of New York to the organization's Israel Office.

"I initiated the transfer," says Heller, "coming on a three-year trial. After six years in the Israel office it was time to move on." With 12 years of experience allocating over one hundred million dollars in Israel, Heller founded Laurie Heller Associates, which provides local non-profit organizations with fundraising, development and grant writing services from a funder's perspective.

"If I had stayed in the US, I would probably have remained in the Federation world and not gone to the other side of the table," says Heller. "I brought my experience as a funder to help organizations to obtain a grant, but I also had to learn new skills. I hadn't overseen grant writing before."

Heller employs four full-time and five part-time staff, but admits her writers need a grasp of Hebrew to connect with clients and work with documents. Nonetheless, she does hire new olim.

"Last year I hired someone from Nefesh B'Nefesh who had been here for four days," Heller says. "We have had lawyers, social workers, teachers. I don't look at the history of the person, other than ascertaining that they are reliable and stable."

While she realizes that money is a concern to new immigrants, Heller points out that olim don't move to Israel to get rich quick.

"Most people want to make a difference," she says. "Most days I feel very blessed with my work. My staff get a sense of gratification working with non-profits who are doing good things here."

Perhaps the best-known employer of Anglo immigrants today is Jerusalem-based IDT, an outsourcing center that offers English speakers the opportunity to continue working in their native language, albeit often during US business hours. One of IDT's first employees, Yoel Bender, 29, came to Israel from St. Louis four years ago to join the rest of his family, which had previously made aliya. Before his move, Bender was working in industrial graphic design for a shoe company.

"In the States, everyone warned me that I wouldn't be able to find a job here in my field... It was right after the high tech crash and I was a little concerned, but I stayed optimistic," he recalls.

Bender began an ulpan program but dropped out when he was accepted in the second intake of IDT's call-center staff.

"I started at the very birth of the company, before there were any graphic opportunities... it wasn't easy to find a job and so I did what was available. The [call center's nighttime] hours were hard, and of course I felt the lack and continued to look for other jobs and opportunities in my field," he says. "After a year the company began to expand into other professional services, and one was graphic design."

In the right place at the right time, Bender was asked to do some temporary graphics work for a client, which led to his position today as IDT's Creative Director. He's now responsible for graphic production and managing an in-house staff of five designers and two project managers.

"Career-wise, I am absolutely satisfied," he says. "I couldn't have asked for more." Plus, his department works regular Israeli business hours.

"As a general rule, not everybody here ends up doing what they were trained to do. That is the reality," he admits, and advises potential olim to make sure their CVs are up-to-date and that they have the required skills for their intended profession. "There is a high level of graphic design in the States, and I felt that with my skills I could make a difference in the industry here. I still don't see that as being out of reach."

"I would never discourage a person from making aliya based on their career," he continues. "If they are capable and have determination, they can come, succeed and create their place here."

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3. "Aliyah 2006: Here They Come!"
From YNET

Ten special flights of new immigrants to land in Israel this summer from North America, France and Great Britain. For the first time in decades - 650 new immigrants from France to arrive in one day.

This summer, 2,000 new immigrants from North America, France and Great Britain will arrive in Israel on ten special flights sponsored by the Jewish Agency, in conjunction with two organizations specializing in immigration and absorption assistance: North America-based group "Nefesh B'Nefesh" and France-based group AMI (Aliyah Meilleur Integration).

According to Jewish Agency estimates, 24,000 people, from countries all over the world, will immigrate to Israel in the course of the year 2006, up from the 22,657 people who made aliyah in 2005.

During the summer months, six El Al flights will land in Israel carrying 1,500 new immigrants from North America. By the end of the year, it is estimated that there will be a total of 3,400 new immigrants from North America, up from 2,987 in 2005.

In parallel, three special ISRAIR flights - two from Paris and one from Marseille - will land in Israel on July 25th, bringing 650 new immigrants from France. This is the first time in decades that such a large number of French immigrants has arrived in one day. There are expected to be 3,500 new immigrants from France this year, as opposed to 3005 in 2005.

Also this summer, for the first time, there will be a special El Al flight from Great Britain bringing 100 new immigrants. Since the beginning of the year, there has been a marked rise in immigration from Great Britain. By the end of May, the number of new immigrants from Britain was 219, up from 134 over the same period last year. By the end of the year 2006, 500 British immigrants are expected to have arrived in Israel.

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4. "Arrivals: From Worcester, Mass. to Jerusalem" by Helga Abraham
From Jerusalem Post

Although Itamar Ben Harav, 27, was born and educated in the US, it was the formative years he spent as a child on a kibbutz in Israel which left the deepest imprint.

"Those years formed my connection to Israel," affirms this amiable, highly committed Zionist. "I was only a child but when we returned to the US, I identified myself as an Israeli and was always determined to come back."

FAMILY HISTORY
Ben Harav's connections to Israel go much deeper than early childhood memories. Indeed, his family history is a colorful microcosm of Israeli history, covering pioneering settlement, the War of Independence and the birth of the Jewish state.

Ben Harav's maternal great grandfather left a wealthy living as a textile merchant in Iraq to come and live in Jerusalem, with all its hardships.

"My grandmother Yehudit, who was born in the Old City, tells me that the family was so poor they would boil up pots of water before Shabbat so the neighbors would not suspect they had no food," says Ben Harav. "And she still shudders as she recalls the riots of 1936, when the Arabs streamed out of the mosques brandishing swords and shouting "itbah el yahud, itbah el yahud" (death to the Jews)."

With the outbreak of the War of Independence, Yehudit joined the Palmah as a paramedic and met a Holocaust survivor from Poland. The two married and went off to build the settlement of Kfar Truman. The American connection entered the family jigsaw when their daughter, Ilana, Ben Harav's mother, met and married Arieh, a young American who had made aliya at 18 and joined the IDF. The family lived alternately in the US and on Kibbutz Tel Katzir in the Jordan Valley before settling permanently in Worcester.

BEFORE ARRIVAL
In Worcester, Ben Harav grew up with his three siblings in a mainly secular environment.

"My father made Friday night Kiddush, but we were not really associated with any synagogue. I attended regular high school and it was by pure chance that I went on to study at Yeshiva University."

Ben Harav studied economics and political science, and while inspired by the students and staff of Yeshiva University, he still remained secular.

"The process of becoming religious was very slow for me," admits Ben Harav. "It spread over many years and only really crystallized when I came to Israel."

As soon as he graduated from college in 2003, Ben Harav made aliya and volunteered for a special unit in the IDF.

UPON ARRIVAL
Ben Harav served in the army for two years.

"It was pretty frightening," he recalls. "We had to go into Arab areas in the middle of the night. I was 25, but the soldiers with me were just 18 and 19-year-old kids... they were incredibly brave and cool."

Ben Harav's absorption, he says, was facilitated by his army experience.

"The army gave me a base. I made friends and very quickly felt part of Israeli society. I also understand it better as a result," he says. After completing his service six months ago, Ben Harav decided to settle in Jerusalem and establish himself as a wedding photographer, a trade that runs in the family.

"My grandfather, mother and father are all professional photographers and as kids, we grew up helping out in the photography business." Ben Harav also works on a construction project in Nokdim and is studying graphic design.

ROUTINE
Ben Harav gets up at 5:45 a.m. to travel to Nokdim and returns in the evening. He then works from 7:00 p.m. until 1:00 a.m. developing his photographic business. On Shabbat, he rests.

"I wouldn't be able to function without Shabbat," he says.

LIVING ENVIRONMENT
Ben Harav shares an apartment in Katamonim with two American friends, Arieh, who runs an organization to spread the Torah to non-Jews, and Arieh Dan, who is researching bio-fuel techniques.

CIRCLE
Like his flatmates, Ben Harav's friends are mainly American religious immigrants who are in one way or another involved in pioneering enterprises. Ben Harav describes his friends as "amazing visionaries" whom he would not exchange for the likes of Brad Pitt or George Bush. The focus, however, of his circle is his fiance'e, Debbie, whom he met while in the army.

"She's a wonderful girl who comes from a religious family and we hope to marry sometime next year," he says.

FAITH
Ben Harav is an observant Jew who loves to synagogue hop and discover new traditions.

"I come from a family of rabbis on both sides. I used to be into Hassidut but I feel very connected to the Lithuanian tradition and I also like the Sephardi way of life. I am lucky to be descended from so many parts of Am Yisrael - I can relate to nearly everyone."

IDENTIFICATION
"My essential identification is as a Jew. I think Israel is the future of the Jewish people. If you want any chance of having a normal Jewish family life, of your kids being Jewish and loving their identity, you have to live in Israel. People say Chabad is the fastest growing Jewish organization in the world, but I say Israel is the fastest growing Jewish organization in the world, and we must make it work. However, to do so, we need to come to terms with the fact that we are Jews living in the Land of Israel - not just Israelis."

LANGUAGE
Ben Harav is fluent in Hebrew but speaks mainly English and is unapologetic about it.

"I don't see this as a sign of not being integrated," he says. "My friends are mostly American, but I don't keep an American lifestyle. The only American thing in my lifestyle is the language. I like speaking English but I also lapse into Hebrew when I want to say something important, because Hebrew is, after all, the language of the prophets, the language of truth and the language of the blueprint of the world."

FINANCES
With several jobs in hand, Ben Harav manages to make a living.

"People say it's hard to make it in Israel but I enjoy working here," he says. "In the US, everything is about immediate success, but I think it is also important to build and I am confident I can make it work here."

PLANS
Ben Harav and his fiance'e plan to settle in Jerusalem.

"I lived in Boston and in Manhattan, but Jerusalem is the most extraordinary city in the world. It's God's city, after all, and there is a palpable electricity here." But Ben Harav also nurtures another dream in his heart - to go out and settle the Land of Israel.

"My dream is to be a redneck and live in a caravan," he laughs, "but we shall have to see what the missus says!"

Shalom! We are proud to present another issue of Kummunique.
This issue is filled with Aliyah and Eretz Yisrael inspiration - so enjoy!

In this issue you will find:

1. "240 North Americans Fly Home to Israel" by Hillel Fendel
2. "Matisyahu: Next year in Jerusalem" by Sagi Ben Nun
3. "Let My People Come" by Michael Freund
4. "The Israel No One Sees" By Dr. Eugene Narrett

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1. "240 North Americans Fly Home to Israel" by Hillel Fendel
From Israel National News

(CLICK ABOVE LINK FOR MUST-SEE PHOTOS)

The first of this summer's seven specially-chartered Nefesh B'Nefesh/Jewish Agency flights, bringing some 3,000 Western immigrants to Israel, arrived today. IsraelNationalRadio was aboard.

President Moshe Katzav, Absorption Minister Ze'ev Boim and other officials were on hand today to greet Israel's newest 240 citizens. Their move to Israel was facilitated by the Nefesh B'Nefesh organization, which has similarly helped some 7,000 Jews to come home over the past four years.

IsraelNationalRadio show hosts and Aliyah activists Yishai and Malkah Fleisher, who were on the plane, were visibly moved at being part of the homecoming of so many Jews. "But the most powerful moment of all," Yishai later said, "happened when I was talking to a little girl, 9 years old, who calls herself Mickey. I asked her why she wants to make Aliyah to Israel, and she said, 'Well, it's the holiest place in the world; G-d lives there, so that's where I'm going to be too.'" [Stay tuned to the IsraelNationalRadio homepage to hear the full conversation, as well as others.]

Another of the new olim, Dan Lande, in his 20s, told Yishai, "One of my most memorable moments was a few years ago, when I was at a wedding in Hevron... and the groom got up and called out to everyone, 'This Land' - and everyone answered him back all together, 'is our land!' I get goose bumps even now just thinking about it..." He will be learning Hebrew on a Kibbutz for the next five months: "It would have been a lot easier staying in America, but the main thing is living a life full of meaning - and tomorrow I will wake up knowing that I'm home."

Yishai said that he spoke with one hareidi-religious family - a Belzer hassid, his wife and several children - but only after the woman ascertained that their talk would help bring more olim to Israel. Coming from Monsey, New York, she said that she feels that "every Jew, deep down, wants to come to Israel, and I am happy to have the opportunity to do so."

Hand in Hand
"I was also talking to a couple in their late 80s who arrived together, hand-in-hand, to their new home in Israel," Yishai recounted. "I asked how they came to make Aliyah. The woman told me that their daughter, who lives in Israel with her family, had recently asked her father where he might want to be buried when the times comes. He said, 'In Israel.' So she said, 'Why don't you come here before then and get to see your grandchildren and great-grandchildren grow up?' He right away agreed - and she right away went to the internet to download the Nefesh B'Nefesh forms..."

Nefesh B'Nefesh - Jewish Souls United - was formed in late 2001 to "revitalize North American Aliyah and to expand it for generations to come by removing the financial, professional, social and logistical obstacles that are preventing many 'would-be' Olim [immigrants] from fulfilling their dream." It has been a great success, having helped over 7,000 American and Canadian newcomers come home to Israel, on 16 flights since 2002. 99% have remained in Israel, at least one spouse in 94% of the families are employed, 300 babies have been born to them, and 100 weddings have been celebrated among them.

The organization provides pre- and post-immigrations services such as loans that become grants, employment information and opportunities, and help in education and other areas.

"Our comprehensive Aliyah services, and the cooperative support of Israel's governmental and organizational resources [such as the Jewish Agency for Israel and the Interior Ministry], have played a pivotal role in our ongoing success," says Nefesh co-founder and chairman Tony Gelbart.

Gelbart's rabbi and co-founder, Rabbi Yehoshua Fass, welcomed the new Olim that no matter how many similar flights of new immigrants would arrive in Israel, "each one was just as momentous and miraculous as any other one. You are here today in fulfillment of the words 'bring us upright to our Land' - you are here, standing proud and tall, not running away from anything, but rather running towards something great and invaluable..."

The two, Rabbi Fass and Tony Gelbart, authored an inspirational letter to today's 240 olim, emphasizing the momentous decision they made:
"...We are on our way home... Please take a moment to reflect and consider the enormity of your precious undertaking. For centuries we have prayed, sung, studied about returning to Israel. What many Jews throughout history could not accomplish in their lifetime, you will be fortunate to be actualize in less than 11 hours. You will soon be calling Israel your home... Thank you for making the courageous choice of picking up your lives, taking on the challenges of Aliyah, and making this significant and life-altering dream a reality."

(Photos: Yishai Fleisher)

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2. "Matisyahu: Next year in Jerusalem" by Sagi Ben Nun
From YNET

Matisyahu has no problem singing with Sting about Roxanne the prostitute, and he is even willing to give up hockey for living in the Holy City

What do you think an internationally-acclaimed rapper does at the end of a show at a smoky rock club, just after entering the green room, dripping with sweat? Screws around with groupies? Downs some shots? Sniffs up some cocaine? The reality is much geekier as far as Hassidic rapper Matisyahu is concerned.

At the end of his hit performance at the Barbie Club in Tel Aviv, the wildest thing he did was eat a glatt kosher salad out of a plastic box that was prepared in advance.

According to Matisyahu, people want to turn him into a fantasy or a hero, but he's neither a superhero nor a rabbi. He is an ordinary, music-loving genuine person with a wife and kids.

At the peak of his greatest international success he visited Israel again and was the warm-up artist for Sting at Ramat Gan Stadium, where he sang "Roxanne." Even as someone who keeps the Jewish traditions, he had no problem performing a song written about a prostitute.

According to Matisyahu, the classic song deals with much more than a prostitute: The idea behind the song is that every person can be a prostitute in a certain sense, and certainly the entire Jewish people can act like a prostitute and sell itself short.

In his first album he mentioned the word "Mashiach" in Hebrew (Messiah), and on the second album, which came out on the Sony label, he preferred to use the word "redemption," which appeals to a wide Christian audience.

Jerusalem, here I come

In an interview with Yedioth Ahronoth Matisyahu mentioned that "It's true that in the new album there isn't a lot of Hebrew, unlike the first album. I actually wanted more Hebrew, but Sony was pressuring us to finish the album as fast as possible."

When asked what's the most surprising thing that people don't know about him, Matisyahu answered that he enjoys hockey and even used to play. He insists that he will immigrate within a year or two, despite the fact that ice-hockey is almost non-existent in Israel.

"If you hear of a nice house in Jerusalem, let me know," he told the reporter. "My move to Israel depends on a few things: If I make enough money to buy a good place to live in, if my family can come and visit me often and if it will work out as far as my career is concerned."

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3. "Let My People Come" by Michael Freund
From Jerusalem Post

For the past nine months, Ruti Joram and her four young children have been anxiously waiting to make aliya. It is not family matters which are holding them back, nor does the situation in the Middle East deter them from seeking to fulfill their dream.

Since last year, their bags have been packed, and all their other possessions were either sold or given away. They have said the requisite good-byes to family and friends, neighbors and co-workers, and prepared themselves to build new lives in the Jewish state.

So why, you might ask, are Ruti and her kids still waiting? What is preventing them from getting on an airplane and coming here? It might sound illogical, or even absurd, but the person standing in their way is none other than Israel's Minister of Immigrant Absorption, Ze'ev Boim.

That's right. The guy getting paid to promote aliya is actually doing his utmost to prevent it.

THE SAGA began last autumn, when Ruti and her children were among 218 people formally converted back to Judaism by Israel's Chief Rabbinate.

All are members of the Bnei Menashe, a community of 7,000 that resides primarily in the northeastern Indian states of Mizoram and Manipur, along the border with Burma and Bangladesh.

The Bnei Menashe claim descent from a lost tribe of Israel, and succeeded in preserving the memory of their Jewish ancestry over the centuries. They keep the Sabbath, practice circumcision on the eighth day, observe the laws of Kashrut and family purity, and have built dozens of synagogues across India's northeast, all of which face toward Jerusalem.

Over the past decade, nearly 1,000 members of the community have moved to Israel, where they play an active role in society. They are industrious people who serve in the army, lead productive lives and raise incredibly beautiful Jewish children.

Indeed, in March 2005, after thoroughly studying the community, its history and its traditions, Israel's Sephardic Chief Rabbi Shlomo Amar formally recognized the Bnei Menashe as "descendants of the Jewish people."

Subsequently, in September 2005, the Chief Rabbi dispatched a special rabbinical court to India, which carried out the conversion of the community members, all of whom wish to make aliya.

Nonetheless, even though the 218 Bnei Menashe were converted by Israel's Chief Rabbinate, and the entire process took place under the supervision of Israel's Conversion Authority, which is an arm of the Prime Minister's Office, the Absorption Ministry has refused to consent to their arrival.

And so, even though all the other relevant players - from the Interior Ministry to the Chief Rabbinate to the Jewish Agency - have all approved the Bnei Menashe aliya, it remains stuck thanks to Mr. Boim's misguided policy.

AND JUST what is that policy, you might be wondering? Well, it seems that Boim is not willing to allow the 218 Bnei Menashe Jews to move here until the government formulates an official stance regarding what to do vis- -vis the other 7,000 members of the community.

In other words, he wants Ruti Joram and her four children to continue waiting until Israel's bureaucracy gets its act together and makes some sort of decision, a process that could take months or even years to complete.

This approach is entirely unacceptable, for the simple reason that under the Law of Return, the moment that the 218 Bnei Menashe completed their conversions, they immediately became eligible to make aliya.

If Boim wants to devise an overall policy concerning the 7,000 remaining members of the Bnei Menashe community, let him go ahead and do so. But what does that have to do with the 218 who have already converted?

They are Jews in every respect, and neither Boim nor anyone else has the right to stall, delay, defer or postpone their arrival, or to link it to some protracted bureaucratic decision-making process.

Frankly, the Absorption Ministry's position is illegal and immoral. It runs counter to the basic values of Zionism and Judaism, and it cannot be allowed to stand. Whoever heard of an Israeli government minister blocking Jews from moving to Israel?

Formally speaking, the Absorption Ministry is not empowered to decide who moves to Israel, but it does play a central role in arranging new immigrants' affairs once they get here. So as long as they continue to withhold their approval, the Jewish Agency will not go ahead and bring the 218 Bnei Menashe Jews to Israel.

As Chairman of Shavei Israel, an organization that assists the Bnei Menashe, I have repeatedly appealed to Boim and to his Director-General, Mirala Gal, in recent months to allow the aliya to go forward, but neither has even bothered to respond.

And so, left with no choice, we have hired a prominent attorney, who sent a letter to Boim the other day insisting that he follow the law and immediately agree to facilitate the Bnei Menashe's arrival. If he fails to do so, we will not hesitate to go to the Supreme Court against him.

Never in my wildest imagination did I think it would be necessary to take the Israeli government to court in order to be allowed to bring Jews to Israel. Some have suggested that Boim, and others like him, are motivated by socioeconomic concerns, or even prejudice, and that they want to find a way to halt any more Bnei Menashe from coming here. I pray that is not the case.

The Bnei Menashe may not speak Yiddish, eat gefilte fish or identify with the character of Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, but that doesn't make them any less Jewish than Boim himself.

This past Yom Ha'atzma'ut, a young Bnei Menashe named Tamir Baite was honored as one of Israel's outstanding soldiers at an official state ceremony held in Jerusalem.

Baite, a lone soldier who made aliya four years ago, serves in the Givati Brigade's elite Shaked unit, and dreams of the day when his parents and siblings will make aliya.

When he is not busy defending the country, Baite rises early to put on his tefillin (phylacteries) and joins in reciting the morning prayers, where he pleads to be reunited with his family, and his community, here in the Jewish state.

It saddens me that we've reached the point where people such as Baite and Ruti Joram are treated so callously by our government, which seems to care little for the needless suffering and grief it is causing them.

I'm not quite sure how things have come to this, but there is one thing that should be clear: we cannot and will not rest until the Bnei Menashe come home to Zion.

They are our brothers and sisters, and it is time we started treating them as such.

The writer is chairman of Shavei Israel, a Jerusalem-based group that assists "lost Jews" seeking to return to the Jewish people. www.shavei.org

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4. "The Israel No One Sees" By Dr. Eugene Narrett
From World Net Daily

The world powers and their major media have been preoccupied, some would say obsessed, with Israel since its war for independence from Britain and Britain's Arab-created client states in 1948. We are numbed by the "Jewish land for Arab promises of peace" process from Camp David to Madrid, Oslo, Wye, Camp David II to the Road Map, which demands a freeze on Jewish settlement in the central parts of the Promised Land and the expulsion of Jews from ever greater portions of it. We also are familiar with the initial results of such processing: more terror, ethnic cleansing of Jews and now, Hamas terror states in the Gaza area and in the hills of northern Samaria (the Shomron).

There are, however, many aspects of Israel, often the most beautiful facets of the entire nation, land and people, that few of us ever get to see. Perhaps the world powers and their official organs of "truth" prefer it that way.

The following paragraphs reveal the beautiful and inspiring face of the Israel that exists behind the headlines and diplomatic slogans, the Israel that the world is in such a hurry to blot out, destroying its homes, farms, flocks, livelihoods and burying Jewish lives in that special oblivion intended for those who buck the modern world's dominant tendencies. It does not need to be. If the Jews of Judea and Samaria are uprooted, Americans, and not only Americans, will be endangered and impoverished.

Americans take note and beware: Israel and the Jews are the canary in the mine. If a league of governments can justify expelling Jews from their ancient homeland, any government can "justify" expelling any person from his home.

Travels

For 18 days beginning May 22, I traveled Israel from Yevul at the Egyptian border to Hispin in the Golan Heights. These travels included large swaths of the hilltop communities in the Shomron and Binyamin regions, the latter being the beautiful ridges and hills northeast of Jerusalem. The first eight days I was with an AFSI (Americans for a Safe Israel) tour, one of the very few groups that regularly visits those places where the cutting edge of the globalists "grand game" intersects with the lives of the people who are its target. The journey's purpose was largely educational, a fact-finding mission that included visits to many new communities, some of them refugee camps for those Jews expelled in August 2005 from the towns and farms they had built on the dunes in Gush Katif (the Gaza area), deported in the name of "peace."

And we saw the wall in many places; we heard rockets being fired over it and saw one that had recently landed right next to a greenhouse in Netiv Ha Assara, which, thanks to the expulsion of the Jews from GK (the ancient biblical territory of Gerar, Genesis 25) is now on the frontline with global jihad. Far from the lights, press conferences and suave diplomats, we also saw the people in these camps. Despite what they have been through, and despite the poverty and terror that the deals of politicians subject them and their children to every day, they are not discouraged, but have their eyes set on creating and flourishing in a future of dignified joy, one day at a time.

"Every place we settle we will create a Gush Katif," said Sara, mother of nine children and formerly from Netzarim. "We will return to Gush Katif; and if not us, our children will return." Such people cannot be defeated.

The beauty of the land and people

The land is astonishingly beautiful, with a uniquely stark, colorful, eye-arresting mix of hills, ridges, winding valleys and stream beds. And, yes, wherever Jews have settled and worked the land it is green, from the tomato, mango, date palm and orange plantings in the sun-baked Dead Sea valley, to the wheat fields, vineyards, herbs and flowers of the Negev, to the olive, fig and almond orchards of the Golan and Samaria. Perhaps this is what the powers of the world don't want people to see: that the promises of the Creator are real; that His covenant is real and everlasting.

Notwithstanding the marvel of this "green line," the people are the most beautiful and instructive feature of the Israel no one sees: gracious, cheerful, "grounded" we would say, living attuned to nature and to nature's Creator with simple unshakeable faith, honor for history and Scripture, and with inspiring persistence.

We began our travels in the hills of Ephraim, in the University town of Ariel at the southern edge of the Shomron. A lovely hotel, the Eshel haShomron, has a flower-surrounded pool, dry clear air and sits near the tip of a salient enclosed by the "security fence" at the very eastern edge of what the world leaders intend to permit for Jewish settlement. Ascending into the hills, one is astonished at the spaciousness and emptiness of nearly all the Jewish heartland. Fifty-six years after Israeli independence, most of the land is still waiting for its people. There is room for millions, for innumerable flocks and plantings, for a paradise on earth.

Exploring a new neighborhood of trailers (the Israelis euphemistically call them "caravans") housing refugees from the Gush Katif expulsion, I was invited for coffee by Ziv and Adi, a young couple with seven children, formerly from Netzarim. Having been uprooted several times before their temporary place at Ariel, their courtesy and good nature were remarkable:

"We want to make a permanent community, to build with teaching and spirit and love. The most terrible pain was not to us but to Israel. We worry about what will come from this kind of break in caring [about people]."

Nine people were living in a space barely suitable for four. Once employed now jobless, yet their hospitality and good nature shone out. They accompanied me on my way.

From Ariel we drove east to Kfar Tapuach (Apple village) and then, turning north on highway 60 sped through the chop shops and stalls of the Arab town of Hawara, noting the Jewish hilltop communities of Lehava and Hill 725 (meters) far above us on the west side of the road. Traveling this stretch, and many others like it, one grasps the need for those Israeli checkpoints the diplomats are always pressing Israel to close. It would be like pulling in your scouts and pickets at a battlefront, for thanks to Camp David, Oslo and the Road Map, Jews live under siege in their own nation. A detailed map of Oslo's partitioning of central Israel shows the mischief of that "peace accord," Balkanizing the land into myriad terrorist enclaves, with narrow corridors for Jews to inhabit and pass through – at their own risk. A long-suffering and gritty patience enables the Jews to persist and flourish, but this self-restraint also postpones the inevitable reckoning with an enemy that will not be appeased. Still, the planting and re-settlement of the land continues.

Vivid moments

In the highlands, we ranged from Yizhar and Shalhavet in the west to Itamar, Gidonim, Givat Olam ("eternal hills" – see Jacob's blessing to his sons, Genesis 49:26), and the outpost hills 830 and 777. Around the vineyards and orchards the earth was covered with thyme, purple phlox, rosemary and pale green grasses. In the breeze, with the vista of rugged hills angling together in innumerable lines, the fragrance, stillness and beauty were startling. Gazelles paused and then bounded across the far edges of the fields.

High in Itamar, despite its Alpine views and sweet people, the reality of being at the frontline of global jihad and great power games was brought home by Mike who trains dogs for community self-defense. "A dog shifts the element of surprise from the terrorist to the community patrol" he explained, then added words Americans should take to heart: "We're in an impossible situation. You can't win a war by defense."

On a nearby hilltop we saw a young man in an orange T-shirt building with his bare hands a stone house that he and his fiancé would dwell in after their marriage. Looking up from yellow wild flowers one sees, miles to the southeast, amazing clumps of red, plum-colored, chalky limestone and basalt crags overlooking the Jordan Valley.

In Yizhar we talked with Ariel who's adding 2,000 more vines to his existing 4,000, grafting chardonnay and cabernet sauvignon shoots onto the hardy stock that flourish in the local soils. His wife, tall with a long black skirt, checked shirt and two small children frisking around her, smiled and invited us into their "wine cellar" featuring dozens of barrels of the local best. There was an easygoing and serene friendliness that recalled the promise if not the reality of the late 1960s.

Here in the Jewish towns, vineyards, farms and orchards of Samaria are the true beautiful people so much sought since those times: balanced, simple, quietly glad. They know who they are; they know what they are doing and that it's right. They live free, simply and with faith. They have a lot to offer the world, though they would never say so and probably don't think about it.

In Bracha, 890 meters above sea level (more than 4,000 feet above the Jordan Valley), I spoke with Eretz, a particularly cheerful young vintner who studied his craft in the coastal city of Netanya. Admiring his skill and energy I asked, "Why don't you move to France or California where you could live easily and make lots of money? Why work with the threat of terror attacks, expulsion and loss of your livelihood?"

"I stay here because of the holiness of the land. I don't need to go to Italy or America to make a lot of money." Asked again about the uncertainties he just smiled and said, "We will stay."

Bracha also overlooks the city of Shechem (mainstream media bury its real name in history by using the Arab "Nablus," a corruption of the Greco-Roman town, "Neapolis" built over the ruins of the original Hebrew settlement where Joseph and Joshua are buried). Since the Oslo deal, Jews have not been able to live, visit or even pray there. On one of the peaks of Bracha, in and around a 15-by-20-foot concrete shelter covered loosely with camouflage is a squad of paratroops, one of several that keep the city, a major center of terrorist activity, under constant surveillance. The destroyed tomb of Joseph and the ruins of the yeshiva that were there are among many testaments to the fate of holy places when Islam takes authority.

North of Shechem is Mount Ebal, where the Israelites built the first altar when they entered the land (Joshua 8; 24). I had a constant view of the site when I stayed in Elon Moreh (see Genesis 12:7) for the holy day of Shavuot ("Pentecost"). The altar has been excavated, identified and dated by archaeologist Adam Zartal of Haifa University since 1980. His book, "The Birth of a Nation," discussing the finds is in Hebrew, but a website in English gives abundant and intriguing details. One of the great ironies of our time is that as evidence of the historicity of the Hebrew Scriptures accumulates, the nations increase their efforts to blot out the history and Jewish identity of Israel. It recalls those lines from Orwell's "1984": "The past was erased. The erasure was forgotten. The lie became truth."

One of the main tools by which the powers pursue this dirty job is through ISM (the International Solidarity Movement) and other Euro-funded leftists who infest the hills and incite local Arabs to harass, rob and physically attack Jews, their farms and flocks. Every Jewish settlement we visited, from Elon Moreh and Scali's farm to Esh Kodesh and Hebron had stories to tell of invasions and incitement by leftists – and of the close ties of the provocateurs with the anti-Jewish Israeli judicial system. The apparent alignment of hostile aliens and the judicial establishment is not unique to America, but part of the fissionable aspects of our times.

Esh Kodesh, a community of about 20 Jews on a verdant hilltop overlooking green valleys and ridges about three miles east of Shiloh (where the tabernacle was set up in the days of the Judges), is a supremely beautiful place of work and dedication. The Jews living there in trailers with a one-room post and beam synagogue are holding the land by shepherding. They, too, are targeted by "Peace Now" and the ISM. If one wants to see the frontline of the war against religion and the past, go to Israel.

Voices of the refugees

One of the major stories of recent years is how thoroughly the official media and silk hats obscured and misrepresented the facts of the Israeli "Disengagement" from Gaza: the deportation of nearly 10,000 Jews, the total destruction of their homes and communities, and their dispersal throughout Israel. There is, of course, no disengagement, neither from the Arabs who continue to live, work, attempt and commit terror attacks in Israel, nor from their rockets shot from the site of ruined Jewish towns. The story here is the unheard voices of these uprooted people and their consistent message: We're going to stay together as a community. With this affirmation comes commitment to bonds between the generations, to a national identity, memory and mission, qualities with which modern culture is at odds.

"I hope my nation will return to Gush Katif, not for my home but for Hebron, Shechem and all our land. Every generation has its task and we are going to build more," said a mother of nine children. "I will not give up the task. This generation or the next will come back."

"We believe that people will come back by example, by our energy and without anger, by faith. We don't think in terms of the percent of our chances of success but about making a lasting impression through good deeds and active faith. The main reality is that the Jewish people have returned to the land of Israel. We have a long road, but the promise of Scripture is being fulfilled," says Sarah, who was from Atzmona and now lives in a camp in Yevul. "The goal is to build a holy nation and to live in it. We want a long-term and lasting success. …"

In America, we hear a lot about "community" usually from people of a certain political persuasion. But in Israel, one finds people who give their heart, soul and lives to building and maintaining communities under the most materially and morally difficult circumstances. The camps are like construction sites with exposed and leaky pipes, packed dumpsters, and everywhere wheeled plastic bins packed with belongings. In a kibbutz near what used to be the Jewish town of Alei Sinai, people have remained in a tent city by a highway rather than be scattered.

"I'm very happy for every day I spent in Gush Katif," remarks an elderly woman whose life has been reduced to rubble. Another adds, "Even though you could say that everything was destroyed, we believe that our active faith will persist. It's a law of physics and of spirituality, too." And looking to the challenge of starting life from scratch in difficult terrain she adds, "It's a great blessing to turn a place of desolation into a place of life," a comment which could underscore the entire story of the Jewish return to Zion since the massive exiles by the Romans began long ago.

In words that reflect the depersonalization these people suffered, Tova, originally from Netzer Hazzani and now living in Hispin on the Golan Heights, said, "Thank you to everyone in the United States who cares about us, to know us, what happened to us and to know that we are people." Na'ama from Katif, now living in Amatzia, adds, "We want to stay together, all the people of Gush Katif. We want to be a community that gives as much as it gets."

Lasting impressions of Israel today

It is a place filled with bird song, with birds darting, swooping, calling and singing everywhere, from the hills of Elon Moreh to the Temple Mount plaza packed with thousands of Jews praying on a Friday evening, the air filled with fragrance from innumerable bunches of mint.

It is a country of immense vitality stemming from people, not from government that is even more clumsily and maliciously obstructive than in America – a country of enormous growth, flourishing and spirit.

Israel is a nation under siege, a frontline community. High up in the north Judean hills, on Mt. Azazel 10 miles east of the Mount of Olives and the Temple Mount, I heard and watched a live-fire exercise south of Jericho and through binoculars saw tanks maneuvering behind the first ridge west of the Dead Sea. Around Shechem one hears exchanges of fire every night. On the southwest coast, in Ashkelon, artillery booms for public consumption, sporadic and lame responses to ongoing terrorist rocket attacks. In a hotel there I saw several uniformed members of an EU security team and their jeeps, festooned with the circle of stars, in the parking lot. The infiltration of Israel by official and unofficial enemies is as omnipresent as U.N. jeeps in Jerusalem.

The wall is everywhere, and the government and JNF collude in selling Jewish land to Arabs west as well as east of the wall. But Jewish building continues throughout "east" Jerusalem, as well as in the hills and camps.

Israel is a place where ancient history, the Bible and the promise of the Creator is being verified and affirmed every day, and the people most at risk affirm and live it.

The vastness and the singular beauty of the center of the nation, the steep hills, ridges and valleys of Judea and Samaria, the glorious view from Elon Moreh above the Tirzah valley down to Shiloh and beyond, the expanse of the Hebron hills seen from a one-room trailer-café in Gush Etzion whose smoothies are out of this world …

The amount of self-help, hospitality and neighborliness; the persistence and grit of the Jewish people in their land are qualities to inspire restoration of what is best in America. Behind the headlines, the children of Israel in their land still are a light to the nations.

Community, diversity, joy – we talk a lot about diversity in America but there is no blend of diversity and joy like that seen Yom Yerushalayim, the day celebrating the liberation and re-unification of Jerusalem in 1967. Jews from every corner of the world, of every color, accent and feature, sidewalk to sidewalk dancing with spirit and solidarity south down Jaffa Street past Zion Square toward the Temple Mount Plaza, rejoicing. This people cannot be defeated.


Eugene Narrett is professor and director of the BA in Multidisciplinary Studies at Cambridge College in Massachusetts. He has written extensively on American politics and culture and on Israel and the Middle East. His books include "Gathered Against Jerusalem" (Writers Club Press), "Israel Awakened" (AuthorHouse) and "Israel and the Endtimes."