Thursday, April 9, 2009


I went to Israel on aliyah as part of a revolutionary new concept in immigration. Instead of the designation "oleh chadash" I went under the designation "oleh chodesh". I predetermined that one month of shtuyot would be all I could take so that is what I signed up for. When I arrived ba'aretz, I listed all my assets in the U.S. for the tax ministry officials who seemed quite interested. They kept getting my name wrong and calling me "Yehudi Asheer“. I also underwent the prescribed mandatory full body cavity search for wads of currency and jewels. The tax collector who performed the rectal probe did not use lubrication. He told me that "to be an Israeli, you have to be tough!" I was glad that I had the foresight to bring along a supply of KY jelly. I spent my month as an oleh chodesh waiting on lines at the Sachnut and various other governmental bureaucracies and sampling the Israeli ambience and cuisine. I grew quite fond of olives and cucumbers. Israeli pizza is quite distinctive! Instead of pepperoni, they use chicken livers. I drove to a number of new settlements to see where I might have lived had I decided to stay longer. An interesting option was a town called "B'nei Bakak" overlooking an Arab shanty town on the West Bank. The night life was rather limited as there was only one little kiosk where you could sit and “lishtot caffe“. The Israeli Sabra women were rather standoffish and kept saying "learn Hebrew!" when I tried to be friendly and speak to them. So I adapted the "international language" and would just extend my tongue and wiggle the tip at them. I find it amazing that women all over the world understand the "international language". I visited several kibbutzim but the men I encountered were all depressed looking. When I inquired why they looked so miserable in such a sunny, picturesque little community they replied that, "since their kibbutzim stopped utilizing Volunteers, there are no longer any horny loose volunteer girls from Europe and the U.S. to shtupp. They had to go back to masturbating in the orchards and raiding the dairy barns" The driving patterns in Israel are quite unique. To save road space, Israeli drivers tailgate within eight inches of the car in front of them. I rented a car and drove around for a day and a half straight. I was afraid to slow down to stop because there was always an Israeli driver speeding along right behind me by only inches. The highlight of my month was when I saw a Russian immigrant urinate publicly on a street in Tel Aviv. How did I know he was Russian? His speaking to his associates in Russian gave me a clue. It was then that that deep emotion overcame me and I appreciated what aliyah meant. "L'hyot am chofshi", to be a free people. And what is freer than a man displaying his circumcised organ under the bright Israeli sun and freely urinating? After my month was up, I returned to my home in the U.S.A. whistling "Ha Tikvah" and "God Bless America".

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