The thorny path to the Promised Land
Israel, Israel, the Promised Land! And what the devil took me there?
A walk in the port of Jaffa
No devil, but my friend bought me tickets, like, fly in, see how it is here in Israel! Okay, okay, for a fool and sweet vinegar! I gathered my rags, bought some gifts for my friend - bacon and cigarettes - and puffed into the Dnieper, to the airport.
The flight itself did not excite me in any way, but passport control was remembered for a long time. When planning the trip, we discussed the possibility of my deportation, because Ukrainians are not very favored at Ben Gurion Airport, and I was ready for anything, but it was really harsh. The bespectacled man at the passport control examined my passport for about 5 minutes, then asked where and to whom I was going, shook his head and sent me for an additional conversation with the border guards. Like he showed me his distrust.
I had to wait more than 7 hours for an invitation to the office for interrogation (or conversation? ). During this time, more than a hundred people passed before my eyes, most of whom the Israeli border guards sent back. For some reason, Ukrainians, Georgians and Arabs were treated with particular predilection, but a team of black merry rappers were let through without any problems. “Well, you’re not a Negro, sit and wait, ” my friend “consoled” me in response to my complaints. Well, yes, why moan - even in the event of deportation, I don’t really lose anything, except for time and nerves. Well, I can still go to the toilet without an escort. The beauty! But other tourists were not so lucky. The nasty red-haired border guard sent for deportation almost all the people who came into his office. It was a pity for a young couple from the Dnieper - the guys made a route, paid for all the hotels and excursions, and this is very expensive, but they were not allowed into the country. Also, a Georgian priest with a drunken physiognomy and his magnificent wife were thwarted for a long time, then they were sent back. They tried to find fault with an elderly lady who had come for an operation, but representatives of the hospital galloped up behind her, a lawyer rushed after someone. And we are all sitting... At five o'clock in the morning I really felt bad. I asked if there was a doctor at the airport, I was told that he would come only after 8 in the morning. In the fence opposite, those awaiting deportation were sadly sitting, and every minute their number arrived, and from there even to the toilet under escort... I decided not to tease fate and began to humbly wait for my fate.
By what criteria the border guards decided whether or not to let a person into the country - only God knows. Distrust is announced without explanation, then - waiting for the return flight in an Israeli prison. One of my friends was “lucky” to visit there. “Dirty, stench, sour sandwiches, one decanter of water for everyone (7 people in the cell). They are allowed to take only money and cigarettes with them, they take them out for a walk once a day. It’s good that the plane was back in just a few hours, ”the girl told me. But some spend more than a week in these conditions...
Morning came and the border guards changed. The nasty red-haired man, having fulfilled and exceeded the deportation plan, proudly left home, and the “fresh” guy did not torment me for a long time. “I believe you, you are telling the truth, ” he said and gave out a small piece of paper with my face on it. I was mentally surprised, but I did not dare to object, I grabbed my passport and ran for my luggage. Another 5 minutes - and now I'm hugging my friend, but the humiliating torture by Ben Gurion took away all my strength. I am a little pleased that I see palm trees and vaunted Israeli roads, thank the gods, not through the bars of a paddy wagon.
The roads are really good, smooth, with convenient markings. And spring in Israel is beautiful: comfortable temperature, green grass, yellow flowers, bright petunias in the flower beds. Excellently equipped beaches, in particular in Ashdod. A free toilet and a large changing room, fountains with drinking water and a shower, hammocks, sunbeds under umbrellas, benches and tables with chairs, playgrounds are installed on the embankment, everything is very comfortable and beautiful. In the evening, a colored fountain turns on, cafes and shops work. But there are not very many people on the embankment in the evening - is it not the season in March yet, or maybe the local population does not like evening walks?
Beach in Ashdod
What walks? I get tired at work like a dog! Here at least have time to restore strength until the morning! my friend grumbles.
He has been living and working in Israel for the 9th year already, and he knows all the problems of repatriates firsthand.
Work. Do you want to live and work in Israel? Welcome! There is always work, of course, for representatives of working professions - builders, installers, crane operators, drivers, nannies, maids, etc. If you want a warmer place - learn Hebrew, and you will be happy, but for how long? Officially, the working day lasts 8 hours, but in fact, employers transparently hint at the need to work 12 hours a day. I do not agree - you can not go to work. Perhaps young people can handle such a schedule, but those who are “over 300” have a hard time. And you also need to serve yourself, buy food, and this despite the fact that work is not always possible to find close to home.
Already from 7 am, traffic jams form on the roads near the entrances to the cities, at the end of the working day the picture is the same. In general, getting up at 5 am, at least an hour on the road, what time it will be possible to go to bed is unknown. Well, if you are an illegal immigrant, then even more so - what are such cafe-mafes? Stay at home and keep your head down so as not to get in the eyes of the police. Moreover, many illegal immigrants constantly carry everything they have earned by overwork with them, because if you get caught, they will be deported in what they were caught in - shorts, a T-shirt and no money. Hoping that more successful colleagues will later send you a money transfer from your own funds is at least stupid.
Language. Learning Hebrew is not easy, there are no vowels in the alphabet, and vowels (these are such dots denoting vowels) are practically not written anywhere. Google Translator is also “no help” for you, because there is no voice acting in Hebrew (at the request of the Israeli authorities, of course). And if citizens who come to the country legally study it in special schools, then illegal immigrants have to learn Hebrew in the course of the play. Or not teach at all, you can live like that. “I have been here for more than 30 years, but I have not mastered the language, because I communicate only in a Russian-speaking environment, ” a respectable old woman complained to me on the bus. Indeed, Russian speech is heard everywhere, the Russian language has already been learned even by the Israelis themselves. There are many old women in Ashdod, they live in hostels - special houses for the elderly. Friendly and talkative, having unmistakably identified the “Russian” in me, they all asked if I had lost my way, and vying with each other showed the way.
Private life or lack of it. “I have been divorced for a long time, my wife found a rich man here and ran away, ” a man on the beach complained to me. Indeed, many families of repatriates have been crushed by the harsh reality of life in Israel. Hard work or lack of it, lack of funds, children suffer from bullying at school and so on and so forth and so on. It is much easier to get out of problems alone than with a family that is always demanding money. And Israeli men oh how they love blondes!
Sovkodr… Oh, sorry, nostalgia for the USSR has acquired simply amazing shapes and sizes here. You can only hear - oh, oh, but in the Union, and it was good, and ice cream, and films, and cartoons, and sausage, etc. , etc. People completely forgot why they once left such a beautiful Soviet Union and smoked out of it as much as an uninhabitable desert. And now they live so well here that at night the crocodile Gena and Cheburashka come in erotic dreams...
But Tel Aviv is still beautiful! Especially the port of Jaffa, its ancient picturesque narrow streets and bizarre paintings by contemporary artists on the walls, fat cats near the Catholic Church and an orange tree growing in the air. I also liked the monument to the fly, installed at the entrance to Mini Israel in Latrun. Judging from the text under the fly-monument, this beautiful Diptera rendered a great service to some builders, almost saved them from death, therefore the miracle fly was sculpted in bronze for posterity.
Monument to the fly
I didn't really like the excursion to Jerusalem. Our group stood in line for more than 2 hours to get into kovukla, or kuvikla, as it is there, in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher... There are a lot of people, there is nothing to breathe, the guide is not heard, and in general we did not understand why all this was needed. In 10 minutes I walked around the entire temple, found a toilet, and then I led my own excursions there, which my “tourists” were incredibly happy about. We were not given time to walk around the Old Town, we ran to the Wailing Wall for only 10 minutes. They didn’t even let me cry in peace, they took me to some shabby cafe, and then quickly, quickly through the churches.
I liked the trip to the Dead Sea, to the SPA Hotel Lot much more. Expensive-rich, inside - a pool with hot salt water, outside - a pool for swimming. Well, the Dead Sea itself is pretty. There are few tourists, because it is expensive - a room in this hotel costs $ 800 per day. In general, Israel is not a tourist country. Because it is really expensive, and food, and drinks, and hotels, and excursions, and the Israelis themselves fly en masse to Bulgaria in the summer, because in July-August the Mediterranean Sea is full of jellyfish, it is impossible to swim. Well, in March - just right. It’s a bit cold, of course, but after passport control I was just sick.
Well, to be honest, it's all boring....But the fair in Ashdod is not bad. There I bought a kilogram of strawberries and a scarf in horses for my niece. That, in fact, is the whole shopping)
