Stamp! Pause …….. Stamp! ...................... Very long pause. Stamp! These were the sounds we heard over the loudspeaker at the Misrad HaPnim (Ministry of the Interior) when we first made aliyah in August 1998, before the days of Nefesh B’Nefesh.
Olim who come to Israel with Nefesh B’Nefesh are offered a wide range of support services that were unavailable in the past. When we made aliyah, we opened a file with the Jewish Agency and were assigned a shaliach, a representative to help us with the aliyah process. Several days before we boarded our regular (not charter) flight to Israel, we called him to ask a question. Before he answered, he asked us the name of our shaliach. He did not even remember who we were.
Our flight was uneventful except for our baby, who wanted every crew member and passenger on the plane to understand how unhappy he was with our decision to make aliyah. He screamed for almost the entire flight, and only fell asleep as we began our descent. He has since changed his tune and has no interest in being anywhere outside our Holy Land.
When we arrived at Ben Gurion, we disembarked the plane using the mobile staircase and took the ten-second bus ride from the airplane to the terminal. The line at passport control was long. Very long and very slow. There we were, fresh off the plane, with a baby who had finally fallen asleep, an almost five-year-old, and a brown teddy bear. Don’t ask. I lost my son’s teddy bear that day. While it seems that he has long since recovered, it still pains me to discuss it. Talk about Jewish mother’s guilt.
As the line at passport control was barely moving and we were falling off our faces, I searched the arrival hall for someone in uniform who looked kind. I told the woman who fit the bill that we had just made aliyah. As I had hoped, she welcomed us with a smile and took us to a side room. She gave us bottles of cold water and processed our passports. After processing some other aliyah paperwork, we left the airport to begin our lives as new immigrants. Outside the terminal, we were met by a volunteer from the organization that supported olim those days. She escorted us from the curb all the way to our taxi and wished us well. Yes, that was so extremely helpful. I don’t know how we would have walked those first five steps as Israeli citizens without her help. That was the support we received on this side of the ocean.
Another advantage of making aliyah through Nefesh B’Nefesh is that Interior Ministry personnel process olim during their aliyah flight. This is huge. I cannot overestimate the value of this arrangement. We, on the other hand, had to go to the Misrad HaPnim to apply for our teudot zehut (identity cards). Not knowing that this activity would take us almost as long as our flight, we dropped our kids off at my mother a”h, who spent the day watching them while we spent a fun day at Misrad HaPnim.
We sat in a waiting room filled with people having fun just like we were. We all waited patiently for our numbers to be called. We waited. And waited. And then we waited some more. We couldn’t even call my mother to update her because we didn’t own cell phones yet. Eventually, we borrowed a phone.
Every time we heard the sound of a stamp over the loudspeaker, we knew we were making progress. We finally reached our turn, got processed, and then happily left the office a mere six hours after we had arrived.
Someone once jokingly told me that Misrad HaChutz (Foreign Ministry) was planning to merge with Misrad HaPnim (Interior Ministry) to become the Misrad HaChutzpanim (Ministry of the Insolent). That made perfect sense to me. I didn’t get the joke.
Several months into our aliyah, a neighbor told me that Israeli citizens are legally required to carry their teudot zehut at all times. I thought about it. I was concerned that if I took my teudat zehut wherever I went, I might lose it. I weighed my options. I decided I would rather sit in jail than endure another day at Misrad HaPnim. I kept my teudat zehut safely at home.
I recently needed to go to the Misrad HaPnim in Beit Shemesh. I shuddered at the thought and kept pushing it off. But I finally decided to bite the bullet. The only appointment I could get was two months later, so I tried my luck and went to the office without an appointment. Maybe they would take me on the spot. I was not prepared for the lovely experience that awaited me.
First, the shomer (guard) greeted me with a smile. That was a pleasant surprise. When he heard I didn’t have an appointment, he said he would try to get me one. He invited me into the air-conditioned office and offered me his comfortable seat. The powers that be that he needed to ask to give me an appointment were in a meeting. He felt bad about making me wait for an answer. He was concerned about inconveniencing me. Can you imagine? He walked to the back office several times until he got me an 11 a.m. appointment the next day. He reassured me that he would be there and would make sure I got out in time for a meeting I had scheduled. I could not thank him enough.
The next day, he greeted me like an old friend when I showed up at 11. I was out by 11:15. Yes, you heard me correctly. 11:15! I was shocked!
Now that the Misrad HaPnim hurdle has been cleared, I hope you will soon join me here in Israel.
Suzie Steinberg, (nee Schapiro), CSW, is a native of Kew Gardens Hills and resident of Ramat Beit Shemesh who publishes articles regularly in various newspapers and magazines about life in general, and about life in Israel in particular. Her recently published children’s book titled Hashem is Always With Me can be purchased in local Judaica stores as well as online. Suzie can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and would love to hear from you.
