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February 16, 2001/Shevet 23, 5761, Vol. 53, No.20
Divided in Jerusalem
Return or not? 'Situation' complicates decision
PAM RUBINS
Special to Jewish News
After an 18-month stint in America, my husband and I began preparing to move back to Jerusalem, our adopted home. We resigned from our jobs, broke the lease on our apartment, ordered a passport for our three-month-old baby, sublet an apartment in Israel, and began packing up. Then all hell broke loose in Israel in the form of the Al-Aksa Intifada.
After countless conversations with loved ones and extensive deliberations with each other, we finally made our decision. Much to the dismay of our families, we chose to return as planned, rationalizing that we would not have left Israel because of the matsav, situation, were we still living there. But despite my brave face, I had deep reservations about our decision. How could I not after watching CNN's continuous coverage of hate-filled, violent, Palestinian rioters?
To alleviate my concerns, my husband agreed to my rather stringent terms and conditions: until things are brought under control, we would not go to Ben Yehuda, the mall, the shuk, market, that was bombed the day that we arrived-or the Old City. Nor would we ride any buses that went through the center of town. Essentially, we would give up much of what we love about living in Jerusalem.
Our arrival was met with great joy by our friends who bent over backwards for us-picking us up at the airport, schlepping our bags upstairs, stocking the house with all sorts of baby gear, groceries and home-cooked meals.
Such is the nature of community in Jerusalem. The makolet, convenience store, and falafel stand guys were also happy to welcome us back. All told us how proud they were that we beat the odds and came back from America - especially at a time like this. In all my years of working in the field, I don't think that I have ever done so much on behalf of Israeli-Diaspora relations.
I am happy that we returned, too, despite the cloud of gloom that hangs over much of Israel. Our day-to-day life is largely unaffected by the matsav: my husband still gets up and goes to work every morning while I perform my job via e-mail, I take care of our baby, lunch with friends, go to the store and perform sundry other errands.
Yet night after night, while I sit in the dark nursing my baby, I am reminded that all is not well in the City of Hope. For it is during this time that I listen to the sounds of artillery shells reaching their targets in Beit Jala in response to shots fired at the Jerusalem neighborhood of Gilo. And it is then that my mind fills with unpleasant thoughts: baby gas masks, blown up school buses, my son growing up and serving in the Israeli army. It is times like these that I question whether we made the right decision by returning.
At the same time, I know that Israel is a great place for a child to grow up. From a very young age my son will have the chance to play alone or with friends without the constant fear of "stranger danger." It is unlikely that he will have to contend with gangs, hard drugs or guns in school. He will surely grow up knowing what it means to be Jewish, with his holidays and culture in sync with the mainstream calendar. And he will be bilingual, making a seamless transition from Hebrew to English.
When I consider my own life, I have to admit that I feel most complete in Israel -a feeling that is shared by my husband. I feel truly blessed to have the opportunity to live in the first sovereign Jewish State in 2,000 years - a privilege that our people have been praying for since the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 C.E. It is here that I feel a part of history in the making, helping to strengthen our country - the only one in the world that, as long as it exists, will always provide a safe haven for Jews.
And, when I consider the world's reaction to the current violence - blaming Israel as if the Palestinians are being attacked without provocation - I am convinced that we owe it to the Jewish people to remain in Israel.
Yet beyond the big picture and my ideals, I know that staying means always living apart from our families and raising our child(ren) away from grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins; battling an obstacle course every time I drive a car; struggling to perform menial tasks in Hebrew that would be effortless in English; always living on the periphery of Israeli society.
So, almost three months after our return, I remain deeply divided over our future in Israel, still unsure whether we have made the right decision. In the past, when it was just my husband and I, it was easy enough to overlook the often-harsh reality of life in the Middle East.
But I am a mother now and everything feels different. It is much too soon to tell if we are here for the long haul. At this point, only time will tell.
Pam Rubins is a freelance writer who lives in Jerusalem.
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