Year Number Five

I had so much planned to write, and then things went nutso around here, so once again I find myself playing catchup.

On 11 August, I had my fourth anniversary of aliyah to Israel. I've mentioned before, the word "aliyah," is the noun form of "going up." As Jews, we consider it a "going up" to move to the Holy Land.

In 2005, I made an additional aliyah by moving to Jerusalem - the Holy City. A couple of months later, in January 2006, I got my first real job in Israel -- a job hiring people to do sales, fundraising, transcription, customer service, etc. for a big call center.

In June 2006 I moved into my current apartment in the hippest, most central location in Jerusalem.

But I was so tired from work and life that I didn't take advantage of living here in the least. I went through phases when I went to shul (synagogue), and for a while I would have a friend come over sometimes for Shabbat meals or I'd go to her.

When my friend moved out of Israel in December 2006, that was pretty much the end of my Shabbat social life. I spent most Shabbats alone -- which was sometimes lonely and sometimes exactly what I felt I needed.

In the fall of 2007, I decided to take a technical writing course. It's one of the few fields in Israel that seems to always be hiring, and it's excellent money. I knew that the chances were small that I'd find a job in Jerusalem, but I figured since I wasn't taking advantage of living in Jerusalem anyway, it was no big deal if I had to commute... or maybe I'd even move to the center, if the money was good enough.

But in February, 2008, my whole life changed.

It started in a tiny way -- I met a really nice girl at a wedding I hadn't really wanted to go to.

She encouraged me to go to the yeshiva another friend had been telling me about for 2.5 years. I had another friend decide to go with me to a special Shabbat dinner in the Old City. After the amazing Shabbat dinner, I decided my friend from the wedding was right -- I needed to go to the yeshiva.

I saw online that they had a class on the weekly Torah portion that started late enough in the evening that I could go. I went, and I really liked the class... the rav (rabbi) was awesome, and I felt like I left there a better person than I'd been when I walked in.

I'll skip most of the details, but suffice it to say that I loved learning so much that I started asking Hashem (G-d) for an opportunity to spend more time learning.

So He answered me by granting me an opportunity to be downsized from my job in April, 2008, with enough money to allow me to learn full time for at least two months, if not more.

The rav of the yeshiva allowed me to take classes without paying, and he tried to also find opportunities for me to make money. I met people in the community and made real friends.

For almost four months, I knew that I needed to find a job, but I no longer wanted to leave Jerusalem to work. I felt like I became who I am supposed to be, and it happened here in Jerusalem... I could barely leave Jerusalem for a few hours once in a while, so the thought of leaving every day to go to work was painful... and it was even more distressing to think about not having the opportunity to go to evening classes because of commuting.

So I decided I wouldn't work outside Jerusalem, even if it meant taking a cruddy job.

But I prayed and prayed to Hashem to give me a job that I could grow in... a job that would allow me to give tzedakah (literally "justice," but we use it as the word for charity)... a job that would allow me to invite guests into my home for Shabbat meals, etc.

Of course, I still wasn't ready to actually start actively looking for a job.

From the very beginning of the writing course, I always had confidence that when I decided to look for a job, I would find one. But again, I thought that might be outside of Jerusalem.

So I still had complete faith that when I started to look for a job, I would get one, but I knew that finding a job in technical writing in Jerusalem was going to be close to impossible -- there are so many tech writers with experience in Jerusalem that they usually have the pick of any openings... so there'd be no reason to hire someone with no experience for not a whole lot less money.

A few weeks ago, I became aware that I had seriously messed up on my financial situation. If I'd have done what I needed to do from the very beginning, I could have gone at least six or eight months without working if necessary. But I found myself at the end of three months with no money and a bounced rent check. Most of it was my "fault," but part of it was due to the mess-ups at my old job and at the insurance agent responsible for my severance fund.

Oops.

So I started looking for a job -- almost any job -- to get me through. I was afraid I wouldn't find something that would allow me to go to my sibling's wedding, so I assumed I simply wouldn't be able to find a job until after I returned from the States.

But once again, Hashem is awesome, and things changed.

After not hearing from my tech writing teachers the last few times I emailed them, I decided to try again. I sent my resume and a letter saying that I am seriously looking for work.

A few days later, one of my teachers called and said she needed my resume right away, right now, yesterday. I told her I'd just sent it, but she said she didn't have access to the folders where it was stored, so I sent it to her a couple of minutes later.

She called back sounding disappointed that I didn't have more experience in a particular kind of software, but she said she'd send my resume anyway to a company looking for someone. She didn't know if I'd get called, but if I did, I was to call my teacher back so she could give me tips for going to the interview.

I didn't think much more about it... but the next day or the day after, I got called to come in for an interview. As "commanded," I called my teacher to let her know I was going for an interview. She gave me a bunch of tips. I told her also that I was going on this trip to America, (I had told them in the original email I'd sent, but I don't think she saw the original email) and asked what I should tell the interviewer.

She told me the interviewer had been looking for the right person for over a month and was getting pretty desperate. She'd wanted someone with experience, but they couldn't pay enough to get someone she liked with the experience she wanted... so she told me to go ahead and tell the interviewer. She also told me that the interviewer (the senior tech writer, who also happened to be the only tech writer, in the company) had a journalism background, and she thought that would give us something in common... and that when the tech writer had asked for recommendations, my two teachers consulted with each other to decide whom to send -- and I was one of the ones they sent, because they thought my personality would work well with the writer and in the particular company.

You see where this is going, right?

So I went for the interview, and prayed that I would leave there believing I'd done the best I was capable of doing. And that's what happened. I interviewed well, while being completely myself. I tested well, feeling confident that I'd done at least "okay" on the test. I was honest with the interviewer about my trip. I told her that I'd be willing to start immediately, but that I needed to leave for the wedding. She asked me tons of stuff about my journalism background, which wasn't so deep, considering it consisted of my college degree and one internship.

The only thing I thought I messed up on was that I hadn't brought any of my journalism clips with me. She'd asked me in advance to bring samples of my writing, but I had only taken my tech writing portfolio and none of my newspaper stories.


During the interview, she mentioned that before they'd make a final decision, the person would need to meet with her boss, who was in military reserve duty. I forgot to ask when he'd be back, or when they'd be considering making a decision.

She asked me to email her some of my journalism samples, and I told her I would.

That was last Thursday, the 21st.

On Monday, the 25th, I got called to see if I could come in for an interview with the writer's boss on Tuesday.

Tuesday, I left my house a bit later than I'd wanted, and then I waited for a bus for a while... when it looked like it was either walk and get there super sweaty and probably on time, or take a taxi and spend money I didn't really have, but be clean, I opted for the taxi.

I had a great taxi driver. He spoke Hebrew to me, of course, and we had a nice conversation. He kept telling me how nice I am (no comments from the peanut gallery, please ;)), and wished me luck on my interview. When I got out of the taxi, I somehow knew I was supposed to have taken that ride, because I needed the quick Hebrew practice and the feeling that someone liked me as a confidence booster.

When I got to the interview, I had to wait 45 minutes past the time of my interview, because the boss was busy. But it didn't even phase me... the writer and the HR person kept apologizing, but I just chilled out in the lobby. After all, I've been in their place -- having set someone up for an interview, but the interviewer gets busy and runs late -- so I wasn't worried.

Eventually, I went in for the interview, which was conducted entirely in Hebrew.

Toward the end of the interview, the boss asked me what my salary expectation was. I was expecting the question, and I'd been told by my teachers what to say. When I gave the number that was 1.5x what I was making at my old job, the guy didn't flinch. He just asked the writer (who'd been co-interviewing) to step out with him for a moment and told me they'd be back.

A couple of minutes later, he came in and said something about me coming back the next day at 10 to discuss the compensation.

I wasn't sure i'd heard/understood correctly, so as the writer was walking me out, I confirmed with her that's what I'd understood. She said it was, and then she asked me if I'd be able to stay and start training, assuming the compensation meeting went well. I reminded her of my sibling's wedding, but she remembered and said that she really wanted someone who could help her get something finished in the next couple of days, and yes, she knew I would have to go away for the wedding.

So all afternoon Tuesday I wasn't 100% sure I had a job, but I was about 90% sure. They'd have had to offer me like, half of my old salary for me not to take the position. Otherwise, I could manage and if the salary sucked, I could always get some experience and then look for a job elsewhere.

Wednesday morning I arrived and "discussed" the compensation with the financial guy. It wasn't much discussing... he told me what they could offer me, and it was all I could to to sit in my seat and pretend to be nonchalant.

The offer was 1.25x what I was making at my old job, plus a performance review with a possible raise after three months, plus full retirement/educational insurance after six months, plus subsidized lunches, plus a flexible schedule. Oh yeah, and every person I had any contact with seemed really nice. And it's still within walking distance of my house.

Um, duh.

Of *course* I took the job. Heck yeah.

(Yes, it occurs to me that maybe there was room for negotiation -- but my rule when it comes to bargaining is that if I think something's worth it I'm going to take it at the price offered. And this seemed almost too good to be true, so I wasn't even about to mess it up.)

Now that I look at it, I feel like Hashem wanted me to have this job -- this specific job -- and that's why my financial stuff got all messed up. If it hadn't gotten messed up, I might not have started applying for jobs when I did. I wouldn't have prayed so much to find the right job.

Note: There was a HUGE damper on my excitement about my first days at work, when I found out a friend of mine... someone who I didn't know particularly well but who had a HUGE HUGE HUGE impact on my life and who I am... left this world on Wednesday. She was just a few years older than I am, with a 2.5-year-old son, and the cancer got her. She was one of the most beautiful people on the planet, and she took a little piece of my soul with her when she left... mine and hundreds, if not thousands, of others. My new boss thankfully let me leave early so I could go to the funeral. Tzivia bat Bayla should rise to the highest heights in the World to Come.

So there it is...

I am now a couple of weeks into my fifth year of living in Israel. I have gone through enormous changes physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally... and I have never been in a place -- physical, mental, spiritual or emotional -- that was better for me.

I have a job... a community of friends... a rav (who actually calls me just to check in, if he's worried about me for any reason. *That* took some getting used to ;))... a great landlord... a supportive "adopted" family in Israel... a supportive family in America...

I am so incredibly blessed.