Naturally, because I'm such a worry wart, I didn't sleep at all the night before the flight. I kept telling myself it was okay, that I would be able to sleep on the plane. Or at least rest on the plane. One of the things I worried about was passing the interrogation all passengers on El Al flights must go through.
Rather than racial profiling, El Al does behavior profiling. El Al has other security measures that most other airlines don't have like planes equipped with missile seeking devices to avoid an on-ground attack, and sending luggage through a decompression chamber that will set off any bombs that might be triggered through air pressure change that occurs during a flight.
Everyone has to go through the interrogation so passengers have to be at the airport three hours early just to stand in line. The interrogation was easy. We were asked questions by a nice lady, where if we told the truth, we could enter continue the process to board the plane.
Then we went through TSA which was no problem. However, TSA did open up our luggage and we were questioned about a couple of items in our bags. I was worried someone at customs or somewhere would freak out over all the herbs and essential oils I brought along, but that didn't happen. We were questioned about our computer equipment because the keyboard was packed in another box than the monitor, and we brought along a super-duper surge protector that they didn't know what it was. Other people were called up and questioned about their items too.
Finally, we boarded the plane and were stuffed into these small little seats near the back. Fourteen hours of this. I was squished in the middle with no window. Luckily every seat had a computer screen where we could select movies, games, music, and flight info.
They fed us on the flight -- 14 hours, they would have to. David and I were wondering what the flight path was, and he was convinced we would head out east, I was kind of hoping for an over the Pacific flight -- but it turns out we were both wrong. In the name of safety we flew northeast over Canada, Greenland, Iceland and down through Europe over the Mediterranean and into Tel Aviv.
For some reason, the overhead lights never went out, making it even harder to try and sleep. Okay, with the cramped seating and bright lights, impossible to sleep. Making two nights in a row I didn't catch a wink.
The interesting thing about the flight was passengers could go hang out near the galley where the crew was working. Anybody who wanted more food or drink could just ask and they'd hand out another sandwich or dinner tray. No problem.
When we safely landed, the passengers clapped. I've never seen that on another airline either. Being in the back, it took forever to get off the plane. Our Nefesh guy was waiting for the new olim with a sign and he guided us through the passport, customs process, and the took us to the Ministry of Absorption. We were herded into a big room with a lot of chairs where Russian olim were already waiting. There was a brief introduction in Russian and then they lit Hanukkah candles. And food and juice to drink. Then we waited until we were called and were processed through and given a new Israeli ID, which technically makes me an Israeli citizen.
The process of absorption was only supposed to take two hours, but it took more like four. We were given a coupon for a free taxi ride anywhere in Israeli and our driver who spoke very little English took us to our temporary home in Haifa. It was dark when we left the airport, but what I saw of Tel Aviv didn't seem that much different than the Bay Area. The traffic crawled at a snail's pace bumper to bumper throughout the city. The traffic signs are in three languages: Hebrew, Arabic and English. The business have familiar logos with writing in Hebrew, but it still felt like being in America.
It's a good thing I started doing a little Pimsleur to learn Hebrew, because that taxi driver knew very little English. I think after 15 Pimsleur 30 minute lessons, I knew more Hebrew than he had of English which is taught in Israeli schools. Apparently it's not taught very well, much like the Spanish we learned in high school -- I took 4 years of Spanish and never learned it. Anyway, the trip was so long because of traffic, I had to use the bathroom really, really bad. So did David. We were able to piece together enough Hebrew to make him understand the urgency. Whew! That is a miserable feeling to be holding it, and holding it, and wondering when, if and how.
When we reached Haifa, he didn't know where to take us. So he kept yelling out the window asking people for directions. They gave terrible directions and he still couldn't find it. He yelled out, "Slee-chah!" which is Hebrew to politely say, "Excuse me." But Slee-chah doesn't sound like excuse me, it sounds like, "Hey You!"
Anyway, everyone he yelled out to, regardless if they were on the street or in the car tried to answer his question. Eventually he found the place, and our contact was waiting with a key. She showed us around the small apartment and how to turn on the hot water heater or boiler as she called it, and put down the exterior metal electric blinds, and how to lock the door. She brought us donuts and we lit the Hanukkah candles, and I gave he kids the donuts and pretended like David and I would eat ours later. But he can't eat sugar because he's diabetic, and I'm gluten intolerant and getting worse, so we threw the donuts away.
And David reminded me, "You don't have to worry about starving in Israel."
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