Olah hadash from Australia tells of her aliyah

Editor’s Note:  The following article will introduce a new Tel Aviv correspondent who will be writing for San Diego Jewish World.

By Candice Mervis

TEL AVIV– Two and a half years ago I made Aliyah from Sydney Australia, and although the decision came as a surprise to most people, for me it had been burning in my belly since the age of 16. It was in 2008, that the flame to live in Israel was re-ignited.

In 2008, I successfully convinced my mother to travel to Israel for a cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. 44 hours of flying, on four planes and visiting two countries, all in a matter of ten days. Still I had to go. Six days were all we had in Israel and for that short period we walked all the streets of Tel Aviv. From the stretch of promenade, to the artistic area of Nevek Tzedek, through the Carmel ‘Shuk’ (market) to window shopping and café-ing in the bohemian Sheinkin and Rothschild streets. We sweated our way in the April heat through Tel Aviv and I loved it. The last day and a half was spent wandering the alleys and getting intimate with the old city of Jerusalem.

The desire was bubbling and the drive back to Ben Gurion Airport saddened me for a second time. On the flight back I decided I needed to come for a longer visit and so planned a two month trip in which I, like most young people, went to the beach and partied. I stayed ten days in a hostel until I found a sublet with one of the girls. We lived in the heart of Tel Aviv for seven weeks. I saw mainly the beach and the night life. I lounged at cafes and explored the local surroundings. Every day from my window, I could see the office for absorption (Aliyah) which stood right across the street, staring at me.

I first fell in love with Israel when I decided at the last minute to go on the Israel Study Tour (IST) back in 1996, which is a two-month school program conducted for Year 10 students of Masada and Moriah Jewish Schools, Sydney. It was a last minute decision and although it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience I’m pretty sure I made the decision to go because the majority of kids were going.

In December 1996 landed at Ben Gurion airport, 108 students from two different schools with six teachers, we walked down the stairs and onto the tarmac and there was the beautiful white sign “Israel.” The first place we visited, straight from our 22 hour trip was the Kotel (Wailing Wall) and it was breathtaking. Years of talking, learning and studying about such a historic wall and we were there. The enormity of it, the sense and spirituality wereoverwhelming.

We then spent two months traveling every inch of Israel, from the tip of the Golan all the way down to the seas of Eilat. We explored Jerusalem, traveled to Haifa and visited kibbutzim. The whole experience was enriching and at the end I did not want to go back. I did not want to board that plane with 108 other students, and six teachers and fly on two planes for 22 hours back to Sydney, but I did. In my heart I was determined to make aliyah and go to the army once I had finished school. However as life would have it, nothing goes to plan.

I did like most young Australians, finished school and went straight to university. I had originally been accepted to do a Bachelor of Policing, a three-year degree in which after two years you joined the police, but decided that I needed some maturing. I was accepted into Sydney University under a Bachelor of Arts, in which I majored in English Literature and Sociology. The plan was to move into journalism. However, I applied for and was accepted into the New South Wales Police Academy.

Only months after finishing my degree, I started at the Police Academy. Most of my family thought I would not survive. Here was a girl who struggled to get out of bed at 7:40 in the morning, loved going out late and had a fairly relaxed calendar at University. Furthermore, I was known for falling asleep as soon as the car started rolling. I was not known for working 12-hour days, getting up at 6a.m.and studying long hours. My family had bets on how long I would last down at the Police Academy.

Out of a four-month program the longest bet was six weeks and the shortest was two weeks. A few weeks before starting the academy I went with my mother and step father to collect my uniform. I tried on the light blue shirt with the NSW Police crest firm on the sleeve, the navy blue pants, black leather police belt and the shoes, I took one look in the mirror and the pride beamed on my face. A female student, who was hovering around trying to find the right size shirt, turned to me and remarked how she thought I was a “real” constable. This image and this comment helped me as I toiled through the four months at the police academy, through the firearms training, through the hours of law exams and through the operational safety and tactics. It was this and of course my mother that held me together during the grilling week 8 which encompassed all the physical training and tests.

Successfully graduating from the academy I was allocated the station I wanted go in, Kings Cross, my top choice out of five and in my heart I knew it was mine. Kings Cross is the third smallest Command in the state of New South Wales, the most eclectic and volatile of all. It is a real “hands on” station which would slap you in the face if you were not paying attention.

Kings Cross has a notorious reputation as being the dangerous underworld of Sydney. It is frequented by drug dealers, repeat offenders, prostitutes, gangsters and outlaw motorcycle gangs who all strut around on the infamous strip of Darlinghurst Road,  a 300-meter strip of bitumen, packed with strip clubs, bars, cafes and adult stores and home to the criminal underworld. I was witness to a multitude of scenes.

I remember one night, we were conducting random breath testing at a mobile station, which had been set up a mile from the Sydney Theatre Company. A black Audi with tinted windows was waved in my direction and when the electric window descended slowly Cate Blanchett was revealed sitting in the driver’s seat.  I’m still not sure who was more nervous. I checked her driver’s licence and yes, it was her. She looked at me, smiled and politely informed me that she had never done this before. Neither had I!

After my stint in uniform, I snuck around in plain clothes and conducted undercover drug operations until I finally settled in my comfortable seat in the Detectives office. For four years I investigated a plethora of protracted cases from murder task forces, to shootings, armed robberies, stabbings, sexual assaults and more. I saw the good the bad and the really ugly, what mankind can do on its worst days. The majority of my supervisors and colleagues had me set for the Homicide Squad, but in the end all I wanted to do was slip on those rose-colored glasses.

Instead, six months after returning from my holiday in Israel, I had my one way ticket, my aliyah visa, my apartment was rented, my furniture was gone and my bags packed. I took only 35 kilograms of my life, caught two flights and arrived at Ben Gurion Airport. For the first six weeks I “couch surfed” at my step-cousin’s who lived a 30-minute bus ride from Tel Aviv. This was my base while I set up my new life, opening a bank account, signing a telephone contract, choosing health insurance, obtaining an identity card, all done within the first week. Within two weeks I had registered and started ulpan.

Within four weeks I had already found a customer service job with an online casino, working mainly midnight to 8 a.m., study from 8 a.m. until 1:30 p.m. and trying to find an apartment. I had gone from being a Detective, to working in a somewhat shady online casino where I was not completely sure I would be paid for a month’s work.

My first few months as an Olah Chadasha (new immigrant) were tough. As time went on, I found myself a waitressing job at a hotel that suited my hours of Ulpan. I moved into a fantastic apartment just off the amazing Sheinkin Street with the most delightful flatmate and my days and nights off I enjoyed with my friends.

In almost three years I have found my feet and paved my own footpath to a wonderful, but challenging new life. In such a short time I was privileged to have had so many interesting experiences. Although life is hard, it is a sweat and a struggle and yes there are those days that you cry and want to go back, that you think you made a mistake, there are many more snapshots of happiness and tranquility that make every second worth it.

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Mervis is a freelance writer based in Tel Aviv.  She may be contacted at candice.mervis@sdjewishworld.com