Immigrating 6,700 miles with United First/Business First
Nov 29, 2014, 1:26 pm
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Arizona, USA
Posts: 2,403
Immigrating 6,700 miles with United First/Business First
To quote, This is Where I Leave You, “I’ve spent my entire life playing it safe just to avoid being exactly where I am right now.” I spent years living in Washington State, frustrated by the dismal winters, the rain, and the “Seattle Freeze.” I had a great job, but I was profoundly lonely and burned-out.
Despite the financial security, routine, and convenience, I hated where I was geographically and psychologically. I’d been thinking of moving to Israel for about a decade, and I’d been there once or twice per year. A year ago, I finally asked myself, "For real this time. What if I stayed?" So… in February, I will turn 40 in a place I love so much.
I’d had chats with rabbis in others about the "recidivism rate" for American immigrants. They felt that my odds for success were favorable. I’m single, old enough that I don’t have to serve in the military, have four degrees, and I had thought through this with great caution. Since much of my family is in France and Switzerland, they’ll actually be closer.
I knew that Israel would mean hassles, a much lower salary, and tax burdens. But I’d already lived in other countries, and my family is spread out on three continents. The idea of moving isn’t quite so “foreign.”
The process for immigration was quite easy. I submitted documentation like my birth certificate, "Proof of Judaism" (insert an off-color joke here), and went to an interview with the Jewish Agency for Israel. It was all pretty painless.
For those unfamiliar, the term is aliyah, meaning "to rise up." So "to make aliyah" is for a Jew to "rise up" and move to Israel. I received profound accolades from my home town, neighbors, and relatives.
The most common question was, "what sort of practice will you have in Israel?"What sort of job will you have?” Although I’ve laid the groundwork to take the boards and get a license, I plan to go slowly. I need some time to recover. Some friendly friends suggested that my answer should be "I’ll be a ski instructor."
I didn’t come across any naysayers. In fact, everyone was supportive of the move. The only exception was a bizarre woman who attends our synagogue. She suggested that I move to Hong Kong. I considered this woman’s suggestion to be a glowing endorsement that Tel Aviv was the right choice.
Saying Goodbye
I didn’t prepare for how hard it would be to say goodbye to my patients. I got flooded with emails, cards, hugs, and well-wishes. It was bittersweet. I never realized how much I meant in the lives of my patients.
But I needed a sense of “self” outside of work. I’d forsaken running, socializing, dating due to long hours and inclement weather.
I had a small freak-out when I realized that I don’t know how to wake up in the morning, go to work, put on my stethoscope and diagnose and treat illnesses. I’ve been “Dr. Mats” for so long that I want to have a life outside of work.
In June, I got pneumonia then shingles then pneumonia again. And I don’t have diabetes, cancer, HIV, etc. I was just overworked and stressed-out. My job was really killing me. A time-out was in order.
Packing
I scoured the internet and asked many people for advice. Most of it boiled down to just making a decision. I decided on a mix of US Postal Service and two extra checked bags. It was surprisingly simple, but I haven’t arrived yet(!)
My friends were amazing, including one who is due to give birth in nine weeks. They helped get unwanted items to Goodwill, clean out my apartment, and box-up and carry my belongings.
I must have spent three days wondering about my laser printer. I finally drew the line and said, ****-it; I’ll put it in a checked bag. No right answer.
What will I miss?
Sure, I’ll miss my patients and a few friends, but I am hard-pressed to think of anything else. A generous salary and benefits are nice, but money isn’t happiness (ask me again in a few months.) I kept thinking that I should get stoned out of my mind as a farewell to Washington, but I wasn’t tempted. I settled on some local salmon, huckleberries, and wine from the Walla Walla Valley.
Hilton Seattle Tacoma International Airport
I spent my last night at the Hilton, and I bought a room for a friend so that I could have some help getting to the airport. At $78 a night including breakfast, this was a great deal. I had dinner with friends next door at the Radisson “RBG” restaurant (it’s really good), and enjoyed my upgraded room: a “Olympic suite.” This included a hot tub, which came in handy for my sore muscles.
The Hilton seemed entirely disinterested that I had a dog with me. They just handed me some biscuits for him.
Routes and Ticketing
The Jewish Agency for Israel and Nefesh B’Nefesh pay for an economy class plane ticket. But their travel agency has no relationship with United, and I was definitely going to fly in Business. So I paid up front, and they’ll reimburse me once I arrive in Israel.
I also wanted to stop in Ohio for Thanksgiving, which coincided with my dad’s 70th birthday.
I remember checking my itinerary online and wondering, “Did I screw this up? Where’s the return flight?” Oh yeah. One-way.
SEA-TAC
Instead of the hotel shuttle, my friend drove to the airport, which was a wise decision. There was no line at all at the 1K desk, and the agent was hilarious. She said I looked like a celebrity chef with five matching duffle bags. My friend suggested that I looked like I was headed to the 1980 Moscow Olympics (the bags are all red.)
Security was a minor hassle. There was no “long beep,” but the agent insisted on a hand swab. I asked, “Was there a long beep?” “No,” he replied, “this is my decision.” That man is saving lives, I’m sure. American hero.
This took forever since nobody was available, and my dog and I almost got trampled as I waited aside the metal detector. He was quite hostile, but the hand swab lady was friendly, telling jokes, and—above all—apologetic. She seemed flummoxed as to why she was called over. Oh well.
UA648 SEA-DEN
26 November
Seat 1B
A320
I was late to get to the gate due to security and the long line at Starbucks. As I boarded, the agent asked, “Are you travelling with a dog, sir?” I thought about saying, “No, he’s my cousin.” The other agent shot her a look that tacitly implied, “Are you crazy?”
Once on board, everything was fine. Pancho (the dog), curled up at my feet, snuggled on a blanket, and seemed entirely unperturbed. I liked that he watched the (manual) safety demo with such rapt attention. Good dog.
He was a hit with the cabin crew, who couldn’t resist playing with him.
Lunch was a roast beef salad or cold chicken wrap, both with onion soup and a warm cookie. The wrap was a new one for me, and I quite liked it. It was big, flavorful, and lacked the congealed cheese of the erstwhile burrito/calzone/bouquet. Pancho and I shared the pretzel roll since it was a bit stale.
There was a great couple sitting behind me with two pugs, and another woman with a massive dog. So United First was rather like a petting zoo.
I got a hug from the purser as I disembarked, and we were off for a short layover.
DEN (and my own stupidity)
The couple with the pugs was on the same itinerary. There was just enough time to go outside. So the husband of the couple looked after our bags, and his wife and I went for a walk outside to the “animal relief” area.
On our way back, I realized that I had done something remarkably stupid. I left my driver’s license at the gate. Yes, I know, this is moronic. But I probably wasn’t thinking clearly about anything, and I hadn’t slept much.
To be fair, the TSA staff were apologetic. I knew that this would mean painful selectee screening, and it was entirely my fault. I had PreCheck, but it was pointless now.
The man in charge of frisking wasn’t terribly nice, but not mean either. This involved hands on the inside of my pants, swabbing every last item he could find (my belt, the zipper on my jacket, shoes), and then re-frisking in the most sensitive areas imaginable. It took perhaps 10-12 minutes. I had no luggage, which perhaps expedited the process.
To my amusement, he missed the verboten lithium AAA battery in the pocket of my pants. He was so busy feeling the inside of my pants that he missed the obvious. I forgot: logic is not part of this transaction.
I would have ordinarily been agitated, tearful, trembling by public humiliation. But there was a mitigating force: another TSA agent held my dog, and we chatted the whole time, she played with the dog, and the indignity was easily forgotten.
The gate agents laughed in Schadenfreude. Somehow, I coped with the most invasive security I’ve ever experienced without agitation. Thank you, Pancho.
UA1229 DEN-CLE
26 November
Seat 1E
737-800
Pancho once again curled up at the bulkhead. The woman next to me was a dog lover, so she enjoyed the extra guest in the bulkhead.
The crew were initially flustered, but apologized later: they had a last-minute change of plans, thereby preventing their long-awaited 24-hour layover in Denver. But they rose to the occasion, and poured over Pancho.
There was a cold plate, DirectTV, and there were plenty of drink runs. Although the flight seemed slow, it wasn’t.
Again, I was wished off with warm farewells, and I think Pancho would have been just as happy staying on the plane. He seemed awfully cozy.
Ohio
Perhaps the less said the better. Thanksgiving was my mom’s showcase holiday: beautiful food, sitting by the fireplace, watching Ohio State crush Michigan. I only got the last of those items.
I definitely enjoyed the Velvet Tango Room and Le Petite Triangle. The Velvet Tango Room is someplace everyone should go if given the opportunity to visit Cleveland. It's a Prohibition-style lounge with amazing drinks.
My stepmother is best described as a “Cluster B” personality, so I find myself clenching my fists beneath the table.
I’ve just checked in for my flight to Israel tomorrow. No problem. I hadn’t swiped a new passport yet, but the United app for iPhone worked perfectly, I took a photo of my passport, checked in, paid the bag fees, and got PreCheck the whole way. I think I’ll bring my ID with me this time.
Despite the financial security, routine, and convenience, I hated where I was geographically and psychologically. I’d been thinking of moving to Israel for about a decade, and I’d been there once or twice per year. A year ago, I finally asked myself, "For real this time. What if I stayed?" So… in February, I will turn 40 in a place I love so much.
I’d had chats with rabbis in others about the "recidivism rate" for American immigrants. They felt that my odds for success were favorable. I’m single, old enough that I don’t have to serve in the military, have four degrees, and I had thought through this with great caution. Since much of my family is in France and Switzerland, they’ll actually be closer.
I knew that Israel would mean hassles, a much lower salary, and tax burdens. But I’d already lived in other countries, and my family is spread out on three continents. The idea of moving isn’t quite so “foreign.”
The process for immigration was quite easy. I submitted documentation like my birth certificate, "Proof of Judaism" (insert an off-color joke here), and went to an interview with the Jewish Agency for Israel. It was all pretty painless.
For those unfamiliar, the term is aliyah, meaning "to rise up." So "to make aliyah" is for a Jew to "rise up" and move to Israel. I received profound accolades from my home town, neighbors, and relatives.
The most common question was, "what sort of practice will you have in Israel?"What sort of job will you have?” Although I’ve laid the groundwork to take the boards and get a license, I plan to go slowly. I need some time to recover. Some friendly friends suggested that my answer should be "I’ll be a ski instructor."
I didn’t come across any naysayers. In fact, everyone was supportive of the move. The only exception was a bizarre woman who attends our synagogue. She suggested that I move to Hong Kong. I considered this woman’s suggestion to be a glowing endorsement that Tel Aviv was the right choice.
Saying Goodbye
I didn’t prepare for how hard it would be to say goodbye to my patients. I got flooded with emails, cards, hugs, and well-wishes. It was bittersweet. I never realized how much I meant in the lives of my patients.
But I needed a sense of “self” outside of work. I’d forsaken running, socializing, dating due to long hours and inclement weather.
I had a small freak-out when I realized that I don’t know how to wake up in the morning, go to work, put on my stethoscope and diagnose and treat illnesses. I’ve been “Dr. Mats” for so long that I want to have a life outside of work.
In June, I got pneumonia then shingles then pneumonia again. And I don’t have diabetes, cancer, HIV, etc. I was just overworked and stressed-out. My job was really killing me. A time-out was in order.
Packing
I scoured the internet and asked many people for advice. Most of it boiled down to just making a decision. I decided on a mix of US Postal Service and two extra checked bags. It was surprisingly simple, but I haven’t arrived yet(!)
My friends were amazing, including one who is due to give birth in nine weeks. They helped get unwanted items to Goodwill, clean out my apartment, and box-up and carry my belongings.
I must have spent three days wondering about my laser printer. I finally drew the line and said, ****-it; I’ll put it in a checked bag. No right answer.
What will I miss?
Sure, I’ll miss my patients and a few friends, but I am hard-pressed to think of anything else. A generous salary and benefits are nice, but money isn’t happiness (ask me again in a few months.) I kept thinking that I should get stoned out of my mind as a farewell to Washington, but I wasn’t tempted. I settled on some local salmon, huckleberries, and wine from the Walla Walla Valley.
Hilton Seattle Tacoma International Airport
I spent my last night at the Hilton, and I bought a room for a friend so that I could have some help getting to the airport. At $78 a night including breakfast, this was a great deal. I had dinner with friends next door at the Radisson “RBG” restaurant (it’s really good), and enjoyed my upgraded room: a “Olympic suite.” This included a hot tub, which came in handy for my sore muscles.
The Hilton seemed entirely disinterested that I had a dog with me. They just handed me some biscuits for him.
Routes and Ticketing
The Jewish Agency for Israel and Nefesh B’Nefesh pay for an economy class plane ticket. But their travel agency has no relationship with United, and I was definitely going to fly in Business. So I paid up front, and they’ll reimburse me once I arrive in Israel.
I also wanted to stop in Ohio for Thanksgiving, which coincided with my dad’s 70th birthday.
I remember checking my itinerary online and wondering, “Did I screw this up? Where’s the return flight?” Oh yeah. One-way.
SEA-TAC
Instead of the hotel shuttle, my friend drove to the airport, which was a wise decision. There was no line at all at the 1K desk, and the agent was hilarious. She said I looked like a celebrity chef with five matching duffle bags. My friend suggested that I looked like I was headed to the 1980 Moscow Olympics (the bags are all red.)
Security was a minor hassle. There was no “long beep,” but the agent insisted on a hand swab. I asked, “Was there a long beep?” “No,” he replied, “this is my decision.” That man is saving lives, I’m sure. American hero.
This took forever since nobody was available, and my dog and I almost got trampled as I waited aside the metal detector. He was quite hostile, but the hand swab lady was friendly, telling jokes, and—above all—apologetic. She seemed flummoxed as to why she was called over. Oh well.
UA648 SEA-DEN
26 November
Seat 1B
A320
I was late to get to the gate due to security and the long line at Starbucks. As I boarded, the agent asked, “Are you travelling with a dog, sir?” I thought about saying, “No, he’s my cousin.” The other agent shot her a look that tacitly implied, “Are you crazy?”
Once on board, everything was fine. Pancho (the dog), curled up at my feet, snuggled on a blanket, and seemed entirely unperturbed. I liked that he watched the (manual) safety demo with such rapt attention. Good dog.
He was a hit with the cabin crew, who couldn’t resist playing with him.
Lunch was a roast beef salad or cold chicken wrap, both with onion soup and a warm cookie. The wrap was a new one for me, and I quite liked it. It was big, flavorful, and lacked the congealed cheese of the erstwhile burrito/calzone/bouquet. Pancho and I shared the pretzel roll since it was a bit stale.
There was a great couple sitting behind me with two pugs, and another woman with a massive dog. So United First was rather like a petting zoo.
I got a hug from the purser as I disembarked, and we were off for a short layover.
DEN (and my own stupidity)
The couple with the pugs was on the same itinerary. There was just enough time to go outside. So the husband of the couple looked after our bags, and his wife and I went for a walk outside to the “animal relief” area.
On our way back, I realized that I had done something remarkably stupid. I left my driver’s license at the gate. Yes, I know, this is moronic. But I probably wasn’t thinking clearly about anything, and I hadn’t slept much.
To be fair, the TSA staff were apologetic. I knew that this would mean painful selectee screening, and it was entirely my fault. I had PreCheck, but it was pointless now.
The man in charge of frisking wasn’t terribly nice, but not mean either. This involved hands on the inside of my pants, swabbing every last item he could find (my belt, the zipper on my jacket, shoes), and then re-frisking in the most sensitive areas imaginable. It took perhaps 10-12 minutes. I had no luggage, which perhaps expedited the process.
To my amusement, he missed the verboten lithium AAA battery in the pocket of my pants. He was so busy feeling the inside of my pants that he missed the obvious. I forgot: logic is not part of this transaction.
I would have ordinarily been agitated, tearful, trembling by public humiliation. But there was a mitigating force: another TSA agent held my dog, and we chatted the whole time, she played with the dog, and the indignity was easily forgotten.
The gate agents laughed in Schadenfreude. Somehow, I coped with the most invasive security I’ve ever experienced without agitation. Thank you, Pancho.
UA1229 DEN-CLE
26 November
Seat 1E
737-800
Pancho once again curled up at the bulkhead. The woman next to me was a dog lover, so she enjoyed the extra guest in the bulkhead.
The crew were initially flustered, but apologized later: they had a last-minute change of plans, thereby preventing their long-awaited 24-hour layover in Denver. But they rose to the occasion, and poured over Pancho.
There was a cold plate, DirectTV, and there were plenty of drink runs. Although the flight seemed slow, it wasn’t.
Again, I was wished off with warm farewells, and I think Pancho would have been just as happy staying on the plane. He seemed awfully cozy.
Ohio
Perhaps the less said the better. Thanksgiving was my mom’s showcase holiday: beautiful food, sitting by the fireplace, watching Ohio State crush Michigan. I only got the last of those items.
I definitely enjoyed the Velvet Tango Room and Le Petite Triangle. The Velvet Tango Room is someplace everyone should go if given the opportunity to visit Cleveland. It's a Prohibition-style lounge with amazing drinks.
My stepmother is best described as a “Cluster B” personality, so I find myself clenching my fists beneath the table.
I’ve just checked in for my flight to Israel tomorrow. No problem. I hadn’t swiped a new passport yet, but the United app for iPhone worked perfectly, I took a photo of my passport, checked in, paid the bag fees, and got PreCheck the whole way. I think I’ll bring my ID with me this time.
Last edited by Mats; Nov 29, 2014 at 4:33 pm
Nov 29, 2014, 9:32 pm
#9
Original Poster
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Arizona, USA
Posts: 2,403
Nov 30, 2014, 1:31 am
#10
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: IAH
Programs: DL DM, Hyatt Ist-iest, Stariott Platinum, Hilton Diamond
Posts: 12,789
And thanks for the Pancho picture. I got to the end of the first post earlier and thought wait, I read all this and I don't even get a picture of the dog!?
Nov 30, 2014, 9:24 am
#11
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: Boston, MA (BOS)
Programs: AA PLT Pro 2MM, DL Gold, UA Silver, Marriott Ambassador + LT Plat, COFC Venture X, HHonors Diamond
Posts: 5,587
Mazel Tov.
Enjoyed reading upto this point and look forward to the rest. Pretty sure Nefesh B’Nefesh works with USAIR (and LY of course), I know people who took USAIR a few years ago.
Enjoyed reading upto this point and look forward to the rest. Pretty sure Nefesh B’Nefesh works with USAIR (and LY of course), I know people who took USAIR a few years ago.
Nov 30, 2014, 12:10 pm
#12
Join Date: Dec 2001
Posts: 3,181
Good luck. You have a lot of courage which I admire.
My mother arrived in Haifa in November 1940 on a ship from Romania where they all slept on deck with 1 toilet. The only place they washed was in Istanbul harbor. They ate potatoes for 1 month and traveled part of the way on a British convoy with British warships.
At least your trip will be a lot more comfortable.
http://digitalassets.ushmm.org/photo...spx?id=1146061
My mother arrived in Haifa in November 1940 on a ship from Romania where they all slept on deck with 1 toilet. The only place they washed was in Istanbul harbor. They ate potatoes for 1 month and traveled part of the way on a British convoy with British warships.
At least your trip will be a lot more comfortable.
http://digitalassets.ushmm.org/photo...spx?id=1146061
Dec 1, 2014, 3:35 pm
#13
Join Date: Jun 2014
Location: DFW
Programs: AA Lifetime Gold, Admirals Club, Global Entry
Posts: 1,141
Thanks for sharing, truly. This is considerably more profound than the typical "trip report." Many go through some of the same things you've gone through, but few actually have the courage to do something about it.
If you ever want existential "trip report" company, you might take a look at what I believe is the longest (by far) trip report on Flyer Talk, "A Consultants life. Tales from the road at 35,000ft" -- a book-length tale of six-figure homelessness, loneliness and a lot more besides.
Good luck.
If you ever want existential "trip report" company, you might take a look at what I believe is the longest (by far) trip report on Flyer Talk, "A Consultants life. Tales from the road at 35,000ft" -- a book-length tale of six-figure homelessness, loneliness and a lot more besides.
Good luck.
Dec 2, 2014, 8:26 am
#15
Original Poster
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Arizona, USA
Posts: 2,403
A warm thank you to all of you who have sent me private messages, and who posted here wishing me well. It means a lot to me.
After waiting for my parents’ painfully slow dryer to take effect, I showered, and put on semi-wet clothes. We packed up the car, and headed off for the airport.
CLE
A particularly friendly skycap loaded up everything, and there was no line at all at the counter (this was the Sunday after Thanksgiving.) Three friendly agents tagged my bags, and one of them even printed out a special receipt for the dog.
There was also no line at PreCheck. The agent explained that he thought the new policy was to swab the hands of anyone with a dog. Given the brevity of the procedure, it wasn’t an issue. But they seemed in absolute fear that I might touch my luggage before the hand swabbing was completed. They also couldn’t figure out where I was supposed to stand. I’m sure that they’re frustrated by constantly changing rules and procedures.
UA226 CLE-ORD
30 November
A320
Seat 1B
Call me crazy, but how can a flight that has a scheduled landing time at 1:57 pm have a scheduled boarding time of 2:02? I was rather unsurprised that we were delayed.
It wasn’t that big of a deal. The guy sitting next to me was friendly and interesting, and he enjoyed playing with the dog.
The crew were exuberant to have Pancho on board. The purser was from Seattle, so we chatted about the now closed Seattle hub. I had two beers, and I split the potato chips with the dog (What? People food? I think there is a special exception on planes.)
Although United protected me on a later flight, the Newark flight was just three gates down, so I didn’t have a problem making the connection.
UA1492
ORD-EWR
30 November
757-200
Seat 1B
This is an international-configured plane that comes from Dublin, and it was headed on to Shannon when we got to Newark. Therefore, there was plenty of room both for hand luggage and for the dog in BusinessFirst.
Despite a very punctual door closure, we had an hour-long tarmac delay.
It wasn’t so bad. The Emirati guy next to me was fascinating. We had a long chat about Islamophobia, misunderstandings about the Arab-Israeli conflict, and so on. We both really enjoyed talking with one another.
The crew were phenomenal. They adored Pancho, and were cheerful and helpful throughout the delay and the flight.
Despite the 1:27 flight time, United serves dinner on this flight. The options were the Asian noodle salad with chicken or a ham and cheese sandwich. Both came with what was described as tortilla soup, but it didn’t taste like the usual United/Continental tortilla soup. Anyway, the salad was really quite good. Oatmeal raisin cookies were passed out just as dinner ended.
One of the flight attendants told me that Tel Aviv was always her favorite layover. She’s moving on in life too. She and her husband decided it was time to make a big change, so they’re leaving the Tri-State area, and they’re building a beautiful house near Bozeman. She shared photos with me and my seatmate. It looked impressive.
There were a number of panic-stricken passengers headed to Delhi. United had electric carts waiting for them, which speaks well for their preparedness in the event of a delay.
I still think that the 757 is the best plane in BusinessFirst. I love the small cabin, privacy, and relative quiet.
Newark
I gave Pancho some dog food and water, and then we walked outside. I ran into the purser outside, and we talked for a while. Some TSA agents were outside as well, and they all wanted to play with the dog.
Getting back inside was no fun. Only one of the three checkpoints was open, so the lines were massive. There was a lot of yelling from the contract security people. And I had to beg my way into the “Premier Access” line. It kept getting stalled by employees, those with disabilities, etc.
It was particularly strange since there was absolutely no line at all at the metal detector. The contract people were so busy keeping everyone out of the security checkpoint that the checkpoint itself was empty.
I was given a special “PreCheck” card, which required me to remove my laptop. In theory, I would have had to have removed my liquids, but I didn’t bother. Nobody seemed to care. A rather hostile man swabbed my hands with far more directions than necessary “Fingers together TIGHT! Now relax! Relax I said!” Time for your mood stabilizer, sir?
Off to gate C138, where Tel Aviv flights always originate. I always find it interesting that the gate is so clearly marked. I thought that one of the ways to prevent terrorist attacks was to keep the actual gate number for Tel Aviv flights as quiet as possible.
In contrast the TSA checkpoint, the gate security was really easy. It serves no security purpose, but they’re just so nice. It’s always the same people, and they’re so polite and cheerful. I don’t actually think the metal detector was turned on.
Of course they all wanted to play with the dog.
UA90
EWR-TLV
30 November
777-200
Seat 8B
Due to the TSA line, I was rather late to board. But it didn’t matter. There was still bin space.
The guy sitting next to me was definitely not happy. He was Hasidic, perhaps in his 70s, and demanded to speak with the captain and the purser because he found it so disturbing that there was a dog on the plane.
The captain and purser both pretty much told him to shut up. There were no other seats, and they didn’t really feel like appeasing this guy. A gate agent gave me some stern warning about watching the dog, but I think she did this to make it look like she was doing something. The guy in 8A was just putting on a show. The purser just mouthed the words, “I’m so sorry” to me.
I don’t think he was happy about anything. He wanted a meal, then didn’t want the main course, then didn’t want anything. Life just isn’t fair to this guy. Meanwhile, the two women behind me were just enamored with the dog, and puzzled by 8A’s behavior. I wish he’d said that he was allergic; that would have prompted a more generous response. Instead, he was just curmudgeonly.
8A also got the smack-down when he tried to enter the “A” cabin to chat with a friend. Nobody else got any sort of grief for passing through the two cabins. But this guy had really irritated the crew, so I think it was a bit retaliatory. I’d rather “take the high road,” but I think they felt like giving him a hard time.
The crew seemed rushed, anxious, but not mean. I only recognized one of them, a Hebrew speaker, but she worked in the back. One of them poured over Pancho, and we had a great talk about Tel Aviv. She has dreamed of moving here herself.
We pushed back right on time, and headed off for the 10:06 flight across the Atlantic and Mediterranean.
Dinner, for those interested, hasn’t changed much in years:
I watched Frost/Nixon even though I’d seen it twice before. It’s still a great movie.
Fearing drama, I took Pancho with me into the bathroom to brush my teeth. This isn’t as tricky as it sounds. Then the two of us curled up in the flat bed. Although I woke up a few times, I slept better on that flight than any other in recent history. In fact, I woke up when the lights came on for breakfast. That blew my mind!
United took it’s typical low-key attitude about the “30 minute rule.” There were no threatening announcements. And when a few people were up to use the bathrooms, the crew just reminded them to take their seats soon.
Arriving in my new country
A volunteer met me to usher me through immigration. The immigration woman was on the phone the entire time and paid no attention. It was the fastest trip I’ve ever had through Israeli immigration.
I then went upstairs to the “Absorption” office. I feared that I had arrived at Sheremetyevo Airport. The immigration staff were all Russian. They were impressed that I knew the word “sobachkya” (“little dog…” Thank you, Checkov.)
The formalities were pretty tame. Just verifying my passport and some random signatures. I was then given a not insignificant amount of cash, and there will be more of that to come.
It took perhaps 90 minutes to complete everything, but only about 15 minutes of that was actually spent on immigration formalities. It was mostly waiting.
Downstairs, my bags were waiting for me. Nobody mentioned anything about the dog. Although I had spent several hundred dollars preparing every conceivable document for the Israeli government, the special rabies titer, the drive to Olympia for the USDA to sign a form… nobody seemed to notice. The customs guys just said, “Oh, cute dog.” (To be fair, it would have been foolhardy to travel without the paperwork.
One of the Russian women waited with me and three other immigrants for taxis. The taxis are paid for by the government, but this meant waiting an hour. The immigration staff were quite frustrated by this, but I was pretty much in a haze.
Once the taxi arrived, one of the Russian women gave me a hug and wished me the best of luck. The taxi driver was initially perturbed by the paperwork, but warmed up quickly, played with the dog, and helped me with my bags.
Home
I’m now in a temporary apartment, exhausted, but finally here.
So far, my belongings seem all intact. My little Nespresso machine didn’t handle the trip well, so I just bought a replacement this afternoon. If that’s the only item to get broken, I’ve done quite well.
It seems like every email and Facebook post is, “Have you found a job?” “What job do you have?” “Where are you working?” As I had explained, I’m really trying to not think about work but that’s rather contrary to an American mindset, especially in medicine.
New projects: opening a bank account, getting an Israeli cell phone number, finding a permanent place to live, and—eventually—gainful employment.
For now, dinner and rest seem like the best plan.
Again, thank you all for your interest and support. It’s quite a challenge to immigrate on one’s own, and it’s great to know that those of you in FlyerTalk to such great interest. Be sure to come visit!
After waiting for my parents’ painfully slow dryer to take effect, I showered, and put on semi-wet clothes. We packed up the car, and headed off for the airport.
CLE
A particularly friendly skycap loaded up everything, and there was no line at all at the counter (this was the Sunday after Thanksgiving.) Three friendly agents tagged my bags, and one of them even printed out a special receipt for the dog.
There was also no line at PreCheck. The agent explained that he thought the new policy was to swab the hands of anyone with a dog. Given the brevity of the procedure, it wasn’t an issue. But they seemed in absolute fear that I might touch my luggage before the hand swabbing was completed. They also couldn’t figure out where I was supposed to stand. I’m sure that they’re frustrated by constantly changing rules and procedures.
UA226 CLE-ORD
30 November
A320
Seat 1B
Call me crazy, but how can a flight that has a scheduled landing time at 1:57 pm have a scheduled boarding time of 2:02? I was rather unsurprised that we were delayed.
It wasn’t that big of a deal. The guy sitting next to me was friendly and interesting, and he enjoyed playing with the dog.
The crew were exuberant to have Pancho on board. The purser was from Seattle, so we chatted about the now closed Seattle hub. I had two beers, and I split the potato chips with the dog (What? People food? I think there is a special exception on planes.)
Although United protected me on a later flight, the Newark flight was just three gates down, so I didn’t have a problem making the connection.
UA1492
ORD-EWR
30 November
757-200
Seat 1B
This is an international-configured plane that comes from Dublin, and it was headed on to Shannon when we got to Newark. Therefore, there was plenty of room both for hand luggage and for the dog in BusinessFirst.
Despite a very punctual door closure, we had an hour-long tarmac delay.
It wasn’t so bad. The Emirati guy next to me was fascinating. We had a long chat about Islamophobia, misunderstandings about the Arab-Israeli conflict, and so on. We both really enjoyed talking with one another.
The crew were phenomenal. They adored Pancho, and were cheerful and helpful throughout the delay and the flight.
Despite the 1:27 flight time, United serves dinner on this flight. The options were the Asian noodle salad with chicken or a ham and cheese sandwich. Both came with what was described as tortilla soup, but it didn’t taste like the usual United/Continental tortilla soup. Anyway, the salad was really quite good. Oatmeal raisin cookies were passed out just as dinner ended.
One of the flight attendants told me that Tel Aviv was always her favorite layover. She’s moving on in life too. She and her husband decided it was time to make a big change, so they’re leaving the Tri-State area, and they’re building a beautiful house near Bozeman. She shared photos with me and my seatmate. It looked impressive.
There were a number of panic-stricken passengers headed to Delhi. United had electric carts waiting for them, which speaks well for their preparedness in the event of a delay.
I still think that the 757 is the best plane in BusinessFirst. I love the small cabin, privacy, and relative quiet.
Newark
I gave Pancho some dog food and water, and then we walked outside. I ran into the purser outside, and we talked for a while. Some TSA agents were outside as well, and they all wanted to play with the dog.
Getting back inside was no fun. Only one of the three checkpoints was open, so the lines were massive. There was a lot of yelling from the contract security people. And I had to beg my way into the “Premier Access” line. It kept getting stalled by employees, those with disabilities, etc.
It was particularly strange since there was absolutely no line at all at the metal detector. The contract people were so busy keeping everyone out of the security checkpoint that the checkpoint itself was empty.
I was given a special “PreCheck” card, which required me to remove my laptop. In theory, I would have had to have removed my liquids, but I didn’t bother. Nobody seemed to care. A rather hostile man swabbed my hands with far more directions than necessary “Fingers together TIGHT! Now relax! Relax I said!” Time for your mood stabilizer, sir?
Off to gate C138, where Tel Aviv flights always originate. I always find it interesting that the gate is so clearly marked. I thought that one of the ways to prevent terrorist attacks was to keep the actual gate number for Tel Aviv flights as quiet as possible.
In contrast the TSA checkpoint, the gate security was really easy. It serves no security purpose, but they’re just so nice. It’s always the same people, and they’re so polite and cheerful. I don’t actually think the metal detector was turned on.
Of course they all wanted to play with the dog.
UA90
EWR-TLV
30 November
777-200
Seat 8B
Due to the TSA line, I was rather late to board. But it didn’t matter. There was still bin space.
The guy sitting next to me was definitely not happy. He was Hasidic, perhaps in his 70s, and demanded to speak with the captain and the purser because he found it so disturbing that there was a dog on the plane.
The captain and purser both pretty much told him to shut up. There were no other seats, and they didn’t really feel like appeasing this guy. A gate agent gave me some stern warning about watching the dog, but I think she did this to make it look like she was doing something. The guy in 8A was just putting on a show. The purser just mouthed the words, “I’m so sorry” to me.
I don’t think he was happy about anything. He wanted a meal, then didn’t want the main course, then didn’t want anything. Life just isn’t fair to this guy. Meanwhile, the two women behind me were just enamored with the dog, and puzzled by 8A’s behavior. I wish he’d said that he was allergic; that would have prompted a more generous response. Instead, he was just curmudgeonly.
8A also got the smack-down when he tried to enter the “A” cabin to chat with a friend. Nobody else got any sort of grief for passing through the two cabins. But this guy had really irritated the crew, so I think it was a bit retaliatory. I’d rather “take the high road,” but I think they felt like giving him a hard time.
The crew seemed rushed, anxious, but not mean. I only recognized one of them, a Hebrew speaker, but she worked in the back. One of them poured over Pancho, and we had a great talk about Tel Aviv. She has dreamed of moving here herself.
We pushed back right on time, and headed off for the 10:06 flight across the Atlantic and Mediterranean.
Dinner, for those interested, hasn’t changed much in years:
TO BEGIN
Chilled Appetizer
Smoked salmon with maple-horseradish mustard
Fresh Seasonal Greens
Tomatoes, Kalamata olives, carrot and croutons with your choice of blue cheese dressing or sesame ginger vinaigrette
MAIN COURSE
Rack of Lamb
Roasted garlic herb sauce, herbed couscous, green beans, and vegetable medley
Osso Buco-style Breast of chicken
Mushroom ragout, garlic polenta cake and broccolini
Filet of Turbot
Creamy lobster sauce, zucchini, carrots, and spinach
Spinach Cannelloni
Four-cheese sauce, roasted tomatoes and Parmesan cheese
Meals do not contain pork.
(But apparently lobster is fine?)
TO FINISH
International Cheese Selection
Grapes and crackers served with Port
Dessert
Ice cream with your choice of toppings.
The food wasn’t very good, but it wasn’t bad either. I’ve had worse on United. There was a choice between a Bordeaux and a Shiraz, and I was stupid enough to pick the Bordeaux. Yuck. I switched over, and the Purser/ISM kept refilling my glass, and made the “frown” face when I started to say “Oh that’s enough.” Okay, twist my arm.Chilled Appetizer
Smoked salmon with maple-horseradish mustard
Fresh Seasonal Greens
Tomatoes, Kalamata olives, carrot and croutons with your choice of blue cheese dressing or sesame ginger vinaigrette
MAIN COURSE
Rack of Lamb
Roasted garlic herb sauce, herbed couscous, green beans, and vegetable medley
Osso Buco-style Breast of chicken
Mushroom ragout, garlic polenta cake and broccolini
Filet of Turbot
Creamy lobster sauce, zucchini, carrots, and spinach
Spinach Cannelloni
Four-cheese sauce, roasted tomatoes and Parmesan cheese
Meals do not contain pork.
(But apparently lobster is fine?)
TO FINISH
International Cheese Selection
Grapes and crackers served with Port
Dessert
Ice cream with your choice of toppings.
I watched Frost/Nixon even though I’d seen it twice before. It’s still a great movie.
Fearing drama, I took Pancho with me into the bathroom to brush my teeth. This isn’t as tricky as it sounds. Then the two of us curled up in the flat bed. Although I woke up a few times, I slept better on that flight than any other in recent history. In fact, I woke up when the lights came on for breakfast. That blew my mind!
United took it’s typical low-key attitude about the “30 minute rule.” There were no threatening announcements. And when a few people were up to use the bathrooms, the crew just reminded them to take their seats soon.
Arriving in my new country
A volunteer met me to usher me through immigration. The immigration woman was on the phone the entire time and paid no attention. It was the fastest trip I’ve ever had through Israeli immigration.
I then went upstairs to the “Absorption” office. I feared that I had arrived at Sheremetyevo Airport. The immigration staff were all Russian. They were impressed that I knew the word “sobachkya” (“little dog…” Thank you, Checkov.)
The formalities were pretty tame. Just verifying my passport and some random signatures. I was then given a not insignificant amount of cash, and there will be more of that to come.
It took perhaps 90 minutes to complete everything, but only about 15 minutes of that was actually spent on immigration formalities. It was mostly waiting.
Downstairs, my bags were waiting for me. Nobody mentioned anything about the dog. Although I had spent several hundred dollars preparing every conceivable document for the Israeli government, the special rabies titer, the drive to Olympia for the USDA to sign a form… nobody seemed to notice. The customs guys just said, “Oh, cute dog.” (To be fair, it would have been foolhardy to travel without the paperwork.
One of the Russian women waited with me and three other immigrants for taxis. The taxis are paid for by the government, but this meant waiting an hour. The immigration staff were quite frustrated by this, but I was pretty much in a haze.
Once the taxi arrived, one of the Russian women gave me a hug and wished me the best of luck. The taxi driver was initially perturbed by the paperwork, but warmed up quickly, played with the dog, and helped me with my bags.
Home
I’m now in a temporary apartment, exhausted, but finally here.
So far, my belongings seem all intact. My little Nespresso machine didn’t handle the trip well, so I just bought a replacement this afternoon. If that’s the only item to get broken, I’ve done quite well.
It seems like every email and Facebook post is, “Have you found a job?” “What job do you have?” “Where are you working?” As I had explained, I’m really trying to not think about work but that’s rather contrary to an American mindset, especially in medicine.
New projects: opening a bank account, getting an Israeli cell phone number, finding a permanent place to live, and—eventually—gainful employment.
For now, dinner and rest seem like the best plan.
Again, thank you all for your interest and support. It’s quite a challenge to immigrate on one’s own, and it’s great to know that those of you in FlyerTalk to such great interest. Be sure to come visit!