I am not religious. While I grew up in a relatively observant Conservative household, after graduating from my Jewish high school, I sought to distance myself completely from anything religious, or Jewish in general. My one exception was the holidays, which I love. Whether it’s with my dad’s side or my mom’s side- my holiday memories are filled with cousins, laughter, games (Rummikub or Celebrity anyone?), and equal parts drama and relaxation. Most importantly, they also always include family traditions. Whether it’s eating a meal of only ice cream every Rosh Hashanah, or drunkenly singing Chad Gadya with animal noises and relief that we made it through another seder every Passover, these grounding moments have ensured that I can gratefully say I am close with my cousins- even as our family grows and disperses throughout the United States and further.
I came to Israel in 2019, and it was my second year away from home. I had lived at home during college, and had therefore never missed a holiday. The only time I missed them was when I spent a year abroad in England, where the novelty, and completely secular lifestyle I lived there, dampened any homesickness I would have felt. Having no sukkah in sight ensured I did not miss mine. However, the blessing of Israel is that Judaism is abundant: I couldn’t escape the traditions of my culture any more than I could escape the weather.
I felt the absence of my family keenly that Sukkot. I was at a distant (now closer) cousin’s house. I did not even realize I was feeling homesick initially, when all of a sudden, her friend came through the door. I had never met her before, but she bears a striking resemblance to my aunt who I love dearly back in the US. It was like a punch in the gut. I looked around and realized that all of my favorite things about that holiday that I had unwittingly taken for granted were missing: the comfort of my aunt’s and my mom’s cooking, the decade old inside jokes that come up every year, the games I loved, the familiarity of the people I grew up with…it was all gone. It felt like I had woken up lost. I excused myself and cried in my room, while calling a cousin I grew up with who made Aliyah a few years ago. It always helps to know that you are not alone.
There are times when I find it harder to live here than others. Traditions are important to Jews; for me they signify family and connections and a sense of home. The experience of not having my traditions made me aware of what I wanted and expected from my holidays. I want to be surrounded by loved ones, and if I can’t have my old traditions, I can create new ones. But not having them at all made me feel bereft, untethered. I felt like I had lost something important, and it shocked me into realizing my priorities.
When I moved here, I had to prioritize in a way I hadn’t had to before- whether it was making sure that I was saving up to go home, or making plans with close friends. I am so happy that I moved here; it is one of the best decisions I ever made. However, as with most big decisions, it came with a price. I know that there will be many years (especially with COVID) that I will be unable to travel back to the US to be with my family. I have to accept that and find a community here that will share my traditions and make new ones with me. I’m looking forward to it.
Gaby Deane – MITF Tel Aviv and South 2019-2020
My name is Gaby Deane and I participated in the Masa Israel Teaching Fellowship in 2019-2020. I taught English to students in South Tel Aviv, mainly seekers and new immigrants, and later in the Bedouin community. I now work at Masa as a part of the international marketing team and live in Jaffa with a close friend I made on my program. It is wonderful. You can find me on Facebook as Gaby Deane or on Instagram @mordantmadame.
More articles
