"Reset Button" Tel Aviv-Newark-Cleveland United BusinessFirst
May 29, 2015, 8:32 am
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Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Arizona, USA
Posts: 2,403
"Reset Button" Tel Aviv-Newark-Cleveland United BusinessFirst
A long but important introduction
It seems that most everyone has his or her “happy place.” Maybe it’s a childhood vacation spot from long ago, a favourite beach or lake, a vibrant city.
For me, Tel Aviv is my “happy place.” I am at home amid its markets, beaches, and cafés. I love going for a run along the Yarkon River, taking an evening walk down the Tayelet (boardwalk) There is no place to which I feel more at ease and myself.
After many years of deliberation, I moved here last year. I am not an impulsive person by any stretch of the imagination. And I asked many detailed questions about work, finances, licensure, and so on. It turns out that I was given many empty promises and false assurances.
Americans who make aliyah (i.e. Jews who move to Israel) have a reportedly dismal success rate. It is especially true of professionals. Israel’s crippling bureaucracy makes it difficult, if not impossible, for American professionals to gain licensure and practice. Despite job fairs and recruiting efforts in the US, the reality in Israel is that it very few ever make it to gainful employment. Statistics are hard to find because many—like me—just leave quietly, defeated.
It seems like everyone has their story of a friend, neighbour, or colleague who gave up and moved back to the USA: a dentist and his wife who lost all their savings. An accomplished neonatologist who only got to work for three months. She never saw a paycheck. I just learned of a high school friend who suffered a similar fate. The stories go on and on.
I had every duck in a row: transcripts dating back to high school, proof of employment from everywhere I have worked, original diplomas… all of it translated and notarized for thousands upon thousands of dollars.
For me, my licensure application remained “in process” the whole time I was here. It is impossible that in two years or six years or next week things will change. But I reached a point at which I got bored and also needed to start making a salary. The latest I heard was that I might be able to “work as a nurse” for US$15 an hour after a six-month unpaid internship, or I could work as a “volunteer epidemiologist.”
It’s not the only barrier. Much to my amazement, I was unable to get a driver’s license after six months of trying. The reason? I have a prescription for Ambien to take for jetlag. Although Ambien is related to auto accidents, it is commonly prescribed here—even to drivers. But even my application for a driver’s license remains “in process.”
The Welcoming Committee
So many people reached out to me, one member of FlyerTalk in particular. And I’m forever grateful. I really only had one friend when I moved here, and I remain indebted and thankful to many who helped along the way. FlyerTalk was incredibly helpful with connecting me with one FlyerTalk friend here in particular. Thank you!
Israel is full of kind, warm people. I remain fortunate that I did so well with the post office, bank, health insurance, utilities, and many other places where new immigrants seem to struggle. I enjoyed warm hellos from the shops, markets, and stores in my neighbourhood, and I even got to know some of my neighbours (a rarity in many cities, including here.)
The Less Obvious Problem with Unemployment
I spent much of my first few months taking lots and lots of Hebrew… medical Hebrew. And I occupied as much time as I could trying to acclimate. And it felt very good to have an identity and life outside of work.
But I discovered something that could have happened anywhere: the people who were around during the day were those who chose not to work. There was a small “club” of Americans and French who latched on to me right away. They had chosen to drop out of their former lives and enjoy the beach here. Nothing wrong with that.
But they were not reaching the heights of human virtue. They were in their 50s, mostly drunk and stoned. One had AIDS and chose to have unprotected sex with many without sharing this critical detail. He argued that it was okay since he’s a doctor and takes his medicine. The other two told wildly inflated stories of their days at Studio 54, and their various celebrity paramours.
In frantic needs for attention, one used to make a point of relieving herself in public, ensuring that others could observe, and then she would talk about it. Although Israelis are more permissive about children relieving themselves in semi-public places, this is not quite true for adults, particularly when a bathroom is a few feet away, and—well—I won’t share the details.
And as I have encountered in other places, they had powerfully racist beliefs, which they had no shame in sharing with me.
It took a surprising amount of effort to evade them. I found myself taking circuitous routes if I walked my dog or wanted to go to the beach myself. The coast is sparsely populated during the weekdays outside of the summer months, so running into them was sometime an unavoidable misery.
I politely explained that I was going back to the USA. One told me that, “Americans who leave Israel join the PLO.” And I received harsh judgment about my lack of commitment to Israel. In fact, Israel had shown a lack of commitment to me.
I’m tremendously fortunate to have made other friends in Israel, who are far more sane, and a lot less shaming.
Where to go next?
I sold my furniture, my car, and almost of all of my belongings (except for books and my dog.) So I really didn’t know where to go in the US. I did not like the Pacific Northwest, except for a few months out of the year. And I wasn’t tempted by the costs and hassles of San Francisco, Los Angeles, or Boston. Pretty much everyone advised me, for now, to go stay with my dad. He has a large house, an extra car at my disposal, and it would at least be a “landing point.” Thus, I am bound for Ohio. I’m sure it will be just like Tel Aviv. (CRINGE!)
Fortunately, Cleveland has a huge Jewish community, and there are many Israelis, particularly physicians who come for their fellowships. There are multiple renowned hospitals, and the cost of living is laughably low. It makes sense for now, even if it seems more than a little grim. At least my dog will have a yard.
The Last Night
I ended in a combination of joy and oblivion. I went with my upstairs neighbour to get hammered beyond recognition at a bar across the street. (My neighbour had asked me to treat his cough as well, which I did.) I’m not much of a drinker, but this turned out to be a pretty good send-off.
Last sunsets from my apartment: the Port and the Mediterranean beyond.
Pancho lying atop a suitcase
Ben Gurion Airport (NATBAG)
The taxi driver was initially rattled by my many suitcases and the time it took to load his car. But he cooled off quickly. He did not speak English, and was instantly relieved that I spoke in Hebrew and explained where I was going, and a bit of the story. He ended up hugging me. Typical of Israel: start the encounter with high drama, end like family.
I navigated the check in hall, stumbling with two SmartCartes and a dog. There was no line at all for security. The guy asked the usual three or four questions, but mostly wanted to play with my dog, invited others to play with the dog, and then joked about how my dog was a “security risk” and needed to go to their apartment permanently. The security guy helped me with my bags as we chatted about the Cleveland Cavaliers. My dog was the star of the show.
The “OAS” check-in woman seemed kind of clueless, but she eventually got the job done. A grim-faced United employee glared at her. I’d never seen him before, and would prefer not to see him again. He seemed to be on a mission, and not a happy one.
I took Pancho back outside for visit to the trees, and then braced for a long trip.
Security itself was a breeze, with everyone offering to help, smiling, petting the dog, and laughing.
Immigration had no line, and the woman was all smiles (they’re always so nice when you leave; so evil when you arrive.) She laughed because I gave her a Newark-Cleveland boarding pass. “It’s no problem,” she said, “You have a lot going on.”
I skipped the Dan Lounge. I don’t know what they’d make of a dog, and it’s just not that nice. When I went to use the bathroom in the Terminal, the cleaning woman asked—in heavily Russian accented Hebrew—“Can I please play with the dog while you go inside? Please?”
United 85
Tel Aviv/Ben Gurion-Newark
777-200
Seat 8K
The Captain stopped and said hi to me and Pancho at the gate. We chatted about Continental’s prior history of “issues” with flying animals gone awry, but they are much more careful now. “I’ll be sure to say hi during the flight,” he said. And he did.
Pancho at gate C9 at NATBAG
I boarded as quickly as possible, and the security staff just asked “Do you have any liquids,” not bothering with other questions or bag searches. I am grateful because it was cramped and narrow to hold a dog and bags there.
The introduction before the safety video features a great new line. United wants passengers to have the "most easy" experience. Safety is global; grammar apparently is not.
We pushed back on time only to face about a 90-minute delay. It was 40 degrees and the regular “long” runway had closed. So we went back to the gate to offload cargo then re-shift cargo to have sufficiently less weight to use a shorter runway.
The woman behind me had an epic meltdown about misconnecting. She felt the need to tell everyone she could find about the horrors of a misconnection. She insisted that she’d have to fly in economy on her domestic connection but she had paid for business class. And she wasn’t earning enough points on this flight for gold status, which she wanted so dearly. The aircraft was WiFi-enabled, and united.com is free of charge, but she claimed her phone was broken.
She kept demanding that the crew “radio ahead” to tell Newark that she was going to miss her flight.
To their credit, the crew were great. I knew one of them from previous flights. They de-escalated with firmness and professionalism. No, they weren’t going to “radio ahead,” or fly faster because of this woman. They really worked hard to keep their cool and re-direct her to other activities. She spent the majority of the 12.5 hour flight festering about the misconnect that would presumably ruin her life, all of which was masterminded by some evil force at United.
The story continued (loudly) about her failed marriage. So perhaps a misconnection was somehow a metaphor?
I couldn’t sleep, so I distracted myself by watching an American Experience documentary about Jonestown, Frontline about food safety, torture, and gun control (three separate episodes), and re-watched “The Reader” and “Slumdog Millionaire.” That passed the time quite well. I considered performing the dance to "Jai Ho," but my dog and I are equally talented when it comes to inflight Bollywood dancing.
Pancho slept, even having a few dreams. He didn’t beg, bark, or complain. The woman sitting next to me happily held on to him the couple of times I got up.
The main meal was not good, I took one bit of the salad and deemed it revolting. I swear it had ham in it. As always, the menu was shellfish-infested. At least the bread was excellent, including sundried tomato focaccia. I was grateful for cheese, grapes, dates, apricots, and a sundae with a particularly dark, almost coffee-flavoured sauce. I should have foregone the main course.
The apricot tart was awesome, and the breakfast is still very good: fresh fruit, unsweetened yoghurt with granola, warm wholemeal bread. And the coffee wasn’t bad. Above all, they had Israeli orange juice (i.e. insanely sweet.) I just had cereal for breakfast/dinner or whatever that meal is.
Water bottles
What is it with the water bottles? This is an ongoing effort on transatlantic flights. The crew are constantly going back and forth with litre bottles of water to be moved from one cabinet to another. I have never understood the need for all of this back and forth. I welcome any reasonable explanation.
As we started initial descent, the captain advised us that we would be delayed further due to thunderstorms over Newark. You can imagine how Ms. Misconnect handled this. The delay wasn’t too long; perhaps 40 minutes. But it feels like four hours after such a long flight. I knew that Pancho would be eager to go out, but he didn’t complain.
The taxi seemed to take forever, but I’m sure it was just ten minutes or so.
Newark
As I got off the plane, I needed the elevator, not the escalator. It was almost impossible to explain this to a passenger blocking the elevator. I tried Hebrew then English with her. “The elevator. I need to use it.” She kept telling me “no.” It turns out that she spoke English, she just felt like somehow getting in my way. I felt like grabbing a wheelchair, putting her in it, and wheeling her away from the elevator.
The Global Entry machine took a photo of some guy walking by me; I was busy fussing with the finger prints. The Immigration guy laughed, and he said it didn’t matter. The Global Entry line was full of non-Global Entry people, so I think that prompted him to be particularly courteous. I should point out that this was not a language gap; the line is well marked, and a lot of people just thought they should use it.
Bags took about 15 minutes, and it was just like the elevator woman, it is impossible to get anyone to step aside if you are trying to pull a bag off the belt. The family in front of me only spoke Spanish. I speak fluent Spanish, and I explained in polite terms why I was asking them to step aside, and they chose not to. ˇGracias! I should have used the wheelchair plain with them.
I knew I would need to stop at Agricultural Inspection, but there was nobody there. This is a two-second process of showing proof of rabies vaccination. I went through a lot of trouble to get formal paperwork, even a pricey trip out to Ben Gurion Airport for a stamp from an official veterinarian. I think the Agricultural Inspection people would have accepted a post-it.
The Agricultural Inspector was really kind. He was joking, “I can’t imagine why you are here.” Then he took the extra time to help me with my bags, and get me on my way to baggage re-check. I already sent a thank you to the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey.
Pancho finally went outside and he seemed very pleased with this.
TSA fun
I posted elsewhere about this, but the line for security was 65 minutes (actual screening took one or two minutes). The C1 checkpoint was closed, C3 was limited to passengers departing out of C3 gates, so I was relegated to the long, snaking, narrow, dizzying lines at C2. There is no Premier Access at all (that’s United’s fault, not the TSA.) And PreCheck is “PreCheck Light.” I didn’t bother taking out liquids, but I did take out my laptop.
The Newark TSA staff were screaming repeated messages that nobody cared to hear. As always, less shouting, more screening, please. “If you have a passport it better be out to the picture page.” Look, how many people can hear the message, and how many passport holders understand enough shouted English?
I felt bad for the one ID woman. She was smiling and polite to everyone. The guy in front of me didn’t speak English, and she was able to use hand motions to show how he needed to take his laptop out of his bag.
An expensive oops
Although I checked and double-checked, I realized at the gate in Newark that my iPad was gone. It’s not the first time I’ve done it, and it’s one of many iPads flying unattended around the world.
The United Club agent did call the gate for me, but the flight had already pushed back for Heathrow.
Although I used “Find My Ipad” and filed a lost item report, I won’t see that iPad again. I hope that it enjoys its visit to London.
I am wise enough at age 40 to know that it’s not worth beating myself up over it, and I bought replacement.
United 1628
Newark-Cleveland
737-700
Seat 1B
The planned 20:10 departure actually pushed back around 23:25 due to a late inbound aircraft.
The gate agent didn’t even notice that I had a dog, and I hustled on board to secure scarce bin space (I was in a bulkhead.)
The crew were bitter and snippy. I’m sure they were tired, but they were so busy complaining about the gate agent. One passenger was frustrated about the lack of gate check bag tags. The crew complained loudly that he “had a chip on his shoulder.” That’s so classy and professional.
At least the hour-long flight was quick, and I nodded off briefly.
Cleveland/Hopkins Airport
We were the only flight to arrive, but bags took 30 minutes. Go figure. I felt myself getting restless.
My bags arrived fairly quickly once they started delivering them. I was surprised to find that one of my bags was open. There was a “We screwed around with your bag” note from the TSA. But I guess the Newark TSA was too busy yelling at people to bother closing the my bag. After all, zippers are tricky.
I was miffed that a couple of books in the bag were left out in the rain. They’re not completely ruined, but it just shows carelessness and disregard. I’m trying not to think about it. It will get me mad, and then I’ll be on the way to Ms. Epic Meltdown. (I imagine she is still in line for security at Newark.)
The car service I ordered cancelled on me due to the very late night arrival. But a taxi turned out to be a breeze, and the driver was happy to help me with my bags. He was Somali, spoke little English, but he seemed happy to help me. I gave him a ridiculously generous tip. He earned every bit of it.
Reset
So here I am. I spent a day dealing with US bureaucracy (five separate trips to the DMV to get a driver’s license, but I was victorious.) I sent the state $400 and got re-fingerprinted to re-activate an old Ohio license (obviously I’ve had a fingerprint transplant.) And I now have US phone number. I’m largely unpacked, and just in a haze.
I’m driving around in my sister’s rusting car—the same kind I had as a senior in high school here. So I feel 22 years younger. That’s not so bad.
The next few weeks and months will be a time of tremendous transition. I’m sad, tearful, but I would have never known that it would happen this way if I hadn’t tried. Taking risks—even big, expensive risks—isn’t such a bad idea.
Again, thank you all for your comments, support, and thoughts during this whole adventure.
Kol tuv (all the best.)
It seems that most everyone has his or her “happy place.” Maybe it’s a childhood vacation spot from long ago, a favourite beach or lake, a vibrant city.
For me, Tel Aviv is my “happy place.” I am at home amid its markets, beaches, and cafés. I love going for a run along the Yarkon River, taking an evening walk down the Tayelet (boardwalk) There is no place to which I feel more at ease and myself.
After many years of deliberation, I moved here last year. I am not an impulsive person by any stretch of the imagination. And I asked many detailed questions about work, finances, licensure, and so on. It turns out that I was given many empty promises and false assurances.
Americans who make aliyah (i.e. Jews who move to Israel) have a reportedly dismal success rate. It is especially true of professionals. Israel’s crippling bureaucracy makes it difficult, if not impossible, for American professionals to gain licensure and practice. Despite job fairs and recruiting efforts in the US, the reality in Israel is that it very few ever make it to gainful employment. Statistics are hard to find because many—like me—just leave quietly, defeated.
It seems like everyone has their story of a friend, neighbour, or colleague who gave up and moved back to the USA: a dentist and his wife who lost all their savings. An accomplished neonatologist who only got to work for three months. She never saw a paycheck. I just learned of a high school friend who suffered a similar fate. The stories go on and on.
I had every duck in a row: transcripts dating back to high school, proof of employment from everywhere I have worked, original diplomas… all of it translated and notarized for thousands upon thousands of dollars.
For me, my licensure application remained “in process” the whole time I was here. It is impossible that in two years or six years or next week things will change. But I reached a point at which I got bored and also needed to start making a salary. The latest I heard was that I might be able to “work as a nurse” for US$15 an hour after a six-month unpaid internship, or I could work as a “volunteer epidemiologist.”
It’s not the only barrier. Much to my amazement, I was unable to get a driver’s license after six months of trying. The reason? I have a prescription for Ambien to take for jetlag. Although Ambien is related to auto accidents, it is commonly prescribed here—even to drivers. But even my application for a driver’s license remains “in process.”
The Welcoming Committee
So many people reached out to me, one member of FlyerTalk in particular. And I’m forever grateful. I really only had one friend when I moved here, and I remain indebted and thankful to many who helped along the way. FlyerTalk was incredibly helpful with connecting me with one FlyerTalk friend here in particular. Thank you!
Israel is full of kind, warm people. I remain fortunate that I did so well with the post office, bank, health insurance, utilities, and many other places where new immigrants seem to struggle. I enjoyed warm hellos from the shops, markets, and stores in my neighbourhood, and I even got to know some of my neighbours (a rarity in many cities, including here.)
The Less Obvious Problem with Unemployment
I spent much of my first few months taking lots and lots of Hebrew… medical Hebrew. And I occupied as much time as I could trying to acclimate. And it felt very good to have an identity and life outside of work.
But I discovered something that could have happened anywhere: the people who were around during the day were those who chose not to work. There was a small “club” of Americans and French who latched on to me right away. They had chosen to drop out of their former lives and enjoy the beach here. Nothing wrong with that.
But they were not reaching the heights of human virtue. They were in their 50s, mostly drunk and stoned. One had AIDS and chose to have unprotected sex with many without sharing this critical detail. He argued that it was okay since he’s a doctor and takes his medicine. The other two told wildly inflated stories of their days at Studio 54, and their various celebrity paramours.
In frantic needs for attention, one used to make a point of relieving herself in public, ensuring that others could observe, and then she would talk about it. Although Israelis are more permissive about children relieving themselves in semi-public places, this is not quite true for adults, particularly when a bathroom is a few feet away, and—well—I won’t share the details.
And as I have encountered in other places, they had powerfully racist beliefs, which they had no shame in sharing with me.
It took a surprising amount of effort to evade them. I found myself taking circuitous routes if I walked my dog or wanted to go to the beach myself. The coast is sparsely populated during the weekdays outside of the summer months, so running into them was sometime an unavoidable misery.
I politely explained that I was going back to the USA. One told me that, “Americans who leave Israel join the PLO.” And I received harsh judgment about my lack of commitment to Israel. In fact, Israel had shown a lack of commitment to me.
I’m tremendously fortunate to have made other friends in Israel, who are far more sane, and a lot less shaming.
Where to go next?
I sold my furniture, my car, and almost of all of my belongings (except for books and my dog.) So I really didn’t know where to go in the US. I did not like the Pacific Northwest, except for a few months out of the year. And I wasn’t tempted by the costs and hassles of San Francisco, Los Angeles, or Boston. Pretty much everyone advised me, for now, to go stay with my dad. He has a large house, an extra car at my disposal, and it would at least be a “landing point.” Thus, I am bound for Ohio. I’m sure it will be just like Tel Aviv. (CRINGE!)
Fortunately, Cleveland has a huge Jewish community, and there are many Israelis, particularly physicians who come for their fellowships. There are multiple renowned hospitals, and the cost of living is laughably low. It makes sense for now, even if it seems more than a little grim. At least my dog will have a yard.
The Last Night
I ended in a combination of joy and oblivion. I went with my upstairs neighbour to get hammered beyond recognition at a bar across the street. (My neighbour had asked me to treat his cough as well, which I did.) I’m not much of a drinker, but this turned out to be a pretty good send-off.
Last sunsets from my apartment: the Port and the Mediterranean beyond.
Pancho lying atop a suitcase
Ben Gurion Airport (NATBAG)
The taxi driver was initially rattled by my many suitcases and the time it took to load his car. But he cooled off quickly. He did not speak English, and was instantly relieved that I spoke in Hebrew and explained where I was going, and a bit of the story. He ended up hugging me. Typical of Israel: start the encounter with high drama, end like family.
I navigated the check in hall, stumbling with two SmartCartes and a dog. There was no line at all for security. The guy asked the usual three or four questions, but mostly wanted to play with my dog, invited others to play with the dog, and then joked about how my dog was a “security risk” and needed to go to their apartment permanently. The security guy helped me with my bags as we chatted about the Cleveland Cavaliers. My dog was the star of the show.
The “OAS” check-in woman seemed kind of clueless, but she eventually got the job done. A grim-faced United employee glared at her. I’d never seen him before, and would prefer not to see him again. He seemed to be on a mission, and not a happy one.
I took Pancho back outside for visit to the trees, and then braced for a long trip.
Security itself was a breeze, with everyone offering to help, smiling, petting the dog, and laughing.
Immigration had no line, and the woman was all smiles (they’re always so nice when you leave; so evil when you arrive.) She laughed because I gave her a Newark-Cleveland boarding pass. “It’s no problem,” she said, “You have a lot going on.”
I skipped the Dan Lounge. I don’t know what they’d make of a dog, and it’s just not that nice. When I went to use the bathroom in the Terminal, the cleaning woman asked—in heavily Russian accented Hebrew—“Can I please play with the dog while you go inside? Please?”
United 85
Tel Aviv/Ben Gurion-Newark
777-200
Seat 8K
The Captain stopped and said hi to me and Pancho at the gate. We chatted about Continental’s prior history of “issues” with flying animals gone awry, but they are much more careful now. “I’ll be sure to say hi during the flight,” he said. And he did.
Pancho at gate C9 at NATBAG
I boarded as quickly as possible, and the security staff just asked “Do you have any liquids,” not bothering with other questions or bag searches. I am grateful because it was cramped and narrow to hold a dog and bags there.
The introduction before the safety video features a great new line. United wants passengers to have the "most easy" experience. Safety is global; grammar apparently is not.
We pushed back on time only to face about a 90-minute delay. It was 40 degrees and the regular “long” runway had closed. So we went back to the gate to offload cargo then re-shift cargo to have sufficiently less weight to use a shorter runway.
The woman behind me had an epic meltdown about misconnecting. She felt the need to tell everyone she could find about the horrors of a misconnection. She insisted that she’d have to fly in economy on her domestic connection but she had paid for business class. And she wasn’t earning enough points on this flight for gold status, which she wanted so dearly. The aircraft was WiFi-enabled, and united.com is free of charge, but she claimed her phone was broken.
She kept demanding that the crew “radio ahead” to tell Newark that she was going to miss her flight.
To their credit, the crew were great. I knew one of them from previous flights. They de-escalated with firmness and professionalism. No, they weren’t going to “radio ahead,” or fly faster because of this woman. They really worked hard to keep their cool and re-direct her to other activities. She spent the majority of the 12.5 hour flight festering about the misconnect that would presumably ruin her life, all of which was masterminded by some evil force at United.
The story continued (loudly) about her failed marriage. So perhaps a misconnection was somehow a metaphor?
I couldn’t sleep, so I distracted myself by watching an American Experience documentary about Jonestown, Frontline about food safety, torture, and gun control (three separate episodes), and re-watched “The Reader” and “Slumdog Millionaire.” That passed the time quite well. I considered performing the dance to "Jai Ho," but my dog and I are equally talented when it comes to inflight Bollywood dancing.
Pancho slept, even having a few dreams. He didn’t beg, bark, or complain. The woman sitting next to me happily held on to him the couple of times I got up.
The main meal was not good, I took one bit of the salad and deemed it revolting. I swear it had ham in it. As always, the menu was shellfish-infested. At least the bread was excellent, including sundried tomato focaccia. I was grateful for cheese, grapes, dates, apricots, and a sundae with a particularly dark, almost coffee-flavoured sauce. I should have foregone the main course.
The apricot tart was awesome, and the breakfast is still very good: fresh fruit, unsweetened yoghurt with granola, warm wholemeal bread. And the coffee wasn’t bad. Above all, they had Israeli orange juice (i.e. insanely sweet.) I just had cereal for breakfast/dinner or whatever that meal is.
TO BEGIN
Chilled Appetizer
Prawns with endive leaves filled with nut and raisin salad and citrus vinaigrette
Fresh Seasonal Greens
Smoked goose breast, blue cheese, dried fruit and nuts with your choice of blue cheese dressing or raspberry vinaigrette
MAIN COURSE
Porcini-dusted Tenderloin of Beef
Red wine sauce, polenta with sage and Parmesan cheese, mushrooms, pearl onions and snow peas
Pistachio-filled Breast of Chicken
Tarragon sauce, lentil ragout and asparagus
Sautéed Garlic Prawns
Coriander-chile sauce, herbed black rice, snow peas and mushrooms
Chestnut-filled Ravioli
Creamy mushroom sauce, creamed root vegetables, asparagus, leek, and mushrooms
Meals do not contain pork
TO FINISH
International Cheese Selection
Served with Port
Dessert
Ice cream with your choice of toppings
MID-FLIGHT SNACK
Assorted Sandwiches
Cream cheese, smoked salmon and quail egg
Roast beef and horseradish cream
Pistachio Cream and Apricot Tart
PRIOR TO ARRIVAL
An appetizer of smoked trout, zfatit cheese and garnishes with your choice of
Herbed Omelette
Goat cheese and sautéed zucchini
Jerusalem-style Kugel
Carrot and prune compote and crčme fraîche
Cereal and Banana
Served with milk
Fresh fruit appetizer, yogurt, and breakfast breads
Chilled Appetizer
Prawns with endive leaves filled with nut and raisin salad and citrus vinaigrette
Fresh Seasonal Greens
Smoked goose breast, blue cheese, dried fruit and nuts with your choice of blue cheese dressing or raspberry vinaigrette
MAIN COURSE
Porcini-dusted Tenderloin of Beef
Red wine sauce, polenta with sage and Parmesan cheese, mushrooms, pearl onions and snow peas
Pistachio-filled Breast of Chicken
Tarragon sauce, lentil ragout and asparagus
Sautéed Garlic Prawns
Coriander-chile sauce, herbed black rice, snow peas and mushrooms
Chestnut-filled Ravioli
Creamy mushroom sauce, creamed root vegetables, asparagus, leek, and mushrooms
Meals do not contain pork
TO FINISH
International Cheese Selection
Served with Port
Dessert
Ice cream with your choice of toppings
MID-FLIGHT SNACK
Assorted Sandwiches
Cream cheese, smoked salmon and quail egg
Roast beef and horseradish cream
Pistachio Cream and Apricot Tart
PRIOR TO ARRIVAL
An appetizer of smoked trout, zfatit cheese and garnishes with your choice of
Herbed Omelette
Goat cheese and sautéed zucchini
Jerusalem-style Kugel
Carrot and prune compote and crčme fraîche
Cereal and Banana
Served with milk
Fresh fruit appetizer, yogurt, and breakfast breads
What is it with the water bottles? This is an ongoing effort on transatlantic flights. The crew are constantly going back and forth with litre bottles of water to be moved from one cabinet to another. I have never understood the need for all of this back and forth. I welcome any reasonable explanation.
As we started initial descent, the captain advised us that we would be delayed further due to thunderstorms over Newark. You can imagine how Ms. Misconnect handled this. The delay wasn’t too long; perhaps 40 minutes. But it feels like four hours after such a long flight. I knew that Pancho would be eager to go out, but he didn’t complain.
The taxi seemed to take forever, but I’m sure it was just ten minutes or so.
Newark
As I got off the plane, I needed the elevator, not the escalator. It was almost impossible to explain this to a passenger blocking the elevator. I tried Hebrew then English with her. “The elevator. I need to use it.” She kept telling me “no.” It turns out that she spoke English, she just felt like somehow getting in my way. I felt like grabbing a wheelchair, putting her in it, and wheeling her away from the elevator.
The Global Entry machine took a photo of some guy walking by me; I was busy fussing with the finger prints. The Immigration guy laughed, and he said it didn’t matter. The Global Entry line was full of non-Global Entry people, so I think that prompted him to be particularly courteous. I should point out that this was not a language gap; the line is well marked, and a lot of people just thought they should use it.
Bags took about 15 minutes, and it was just like the elevator woman, it is impossible to get anyone to step aside if you are trying to pull a bag off the belt. The family in front of me only spoke Spanish. I speak fluent Spanish, and I explained in polite terms why I was asking them to step aside, and they chose not to. ˇGracias! I should have used the wheelchair plain with them.
I knew I would need to stop at Agricultural Inspection, but there was nobody there. This is a two-second process of showing proof of rabies vaccination. I went through a lot of trouble to get formal paperwork, even a pricey trip out to Ben Gurion Airport for a stamp from an official veterinarian. I think the Agricultural Inspection people would have accepted a post-it.
The Agricultural Inspector was really kind. He was joking, “I can’t imagine why you are here.” Then he took the extra time to help me with my bags, and get me on my way to baggage re-check. I already sent a thank you to the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey.
Pancho finally went outside and he seemed very pleased with this.
TSA fun
I posted elsewhere about this, but the line for security was 65 minutes (actual screening took one or two minutes). The C1 checkpoint was closed, C3 was limited to passengers departing out of C3 gates, so I was relegated to the long, snaking, narrow, dizzying lines at C2. There is no Premier Access at all (that’s United’s fault, not the TSA.) And PreCheck is “PreCheck Light.” I didn’t bother taking out liquids, but I did take out my laptop.
The Newark TSA staff were screaming repeated messages that nobody cared to hear. As always, less shouting, more screening, please. “If you have a passport it better be out to the picture page.” Look, how many people can hear the message, and how many passport holders understand enough shouted English?
I felt bad for the one ID woman. She was smiling and polite to everyone. The guy in front of me didn’t speak English, and she was able to use hand motions to show how he needed to take his laptop out of his bag.
An expensive oops
Although I checked and double-checked, I realized at the gate in Newark that my iPad was gone. It’s not the first time I’ve done it, and it’s one of many iPads flying unattended around the world.
The United Club agent did call the gate for me, but the flight had already pushed back for Heathrow.
Although I used “Find My Ipad” and filed a lost item report, I won’t see that iPad again. I hope that it enjoys its visit to London.
I am wise enough at age 40 to know that it’s not worth beating myself up over it, and I bought replacement.
United 1628
Newark-Cleveland
737-700
Seat 1B
The planned 20:10 departure actually pushed back around 23:25 due to a late inbound aircraft.
The gate agent didn’t even notice that I had a dog, and I hustled on board to secure scarce bin space (I was in a bulkhead.)
The crew were bitter and snippy. I’m sure they were tired, but they were so busy complaining about the gate agent. One passenger was frustrated about the lack of gate check bag tags. The crew complained loudly that he “had a chip on his shoulder.” That’s so classy and professional.
At least the hour-long flight was quick, and I nodded off briefly.
Cleveland/Hopkins Airport
We were the only flight to arrive, but bags took 30 minutes. Go figure. I felt myself getting restless.
My bags arrived fairly quickly once they started delivering them. I was surprised to find that one of my bags was open. There was a “We screwed around with your bag” note from the TSA. But I guess the Newark TSA was too busy yelling at people to bother closing the my bag. After all, zippers are tricky.
I was miffed that a couple of books in the bag were left out in the rain. They’re not completely ruined, but it just shows carelessness and disregard. I’m trying not to think about it. It will get me mad, and then I’ll be on the way to Ms. Epic Meltdown. (I imagine she is still in line for security at Newark.)
The car service I ordered cancelled on me due to the very late night arrival. But a taxi turned out to be a breeze, and the driver was happy to help me with my bags. He was Somali, spoke little English, but he seemed happy to help me. I gave him a ridiculously generous tip. He earned every bit of it.
Reset
So here I am. I spent a day dealing with US bureaucracy (five separate trips to the DMV to get a driver’s license, but I was victorious.) I sent the state $400 and got re-fingerprinted to re-activate an old Ohio license (obviously I’ve had a fingerprint transplant.) And I now have US phone number. I’m largely unpacked, and just in a haze.
I’m driving around in my sister’s rusting car—the same kind I had as a senior in high school here. So I feel 22 years younger. That’s not so bad.
The next few weeks and months will be a time of tremendous transition. I’m sad, tearful, but I would have never known that it would happen this way if I hadn’t tried. Taking risks—even big, expensive risks—isn’t such a bad idea.
Again, thank you all for your comments, support, and thoughts during this whole adventure.
Kol tuv (all the best.)
May 29, 2015, 9:01 am
#2
Join Date: Sep 2006
Programs: No more shiny cards -- former LH SEN, SPG Platinum, Flying Blue Platinum, BA Silver
Posts: 704
The main thing is that you tried it -- you had an idea; you went for it; it didn't work out; so you try something else. It is one of the many circles of life.
Enjoy settling in back in to life in the USA and remember -- you can always go back on holiday .......
PS -- I am not much of a poster on here but have always liked the way you write -- I forwarded one of your last reports to one of my friends who (having traded in an Israeli passport for a German one) was amazed when the immigration officer spoke to him in Hebrew at Ben Gurion even though he had not said a word
Enjoy settling in back in to life in the USA and remember -- you can always go back on holiday .......
PS -- I am not much of a poster on here but have always liked the way you write -- I forwarded one of your last reports to one of my friends who (having traded in an Israeli passport for a German one) was amazed when the immigration officer spoke to him in Hebrew at Ben Gurion even though he had not said a word
May 29, 2015, 2:15 pm
#3
Join Date: Jul 2013
Location: JNB
Programs: Flying Blue, Miles and Smiles, Hhonors, ICHotels
Posts: 1,307
What a lovely story. What really hit home is how people try and assimilate into a new culture / country, and really try, but that is not enough.
It is a huge decision to make and I am pleased that it is working out for for you.
Oh, and Pancho looks awesome. Sometimes I wish that I can travel with my hounds, but being Jack Russels and from South Africa, that is not going to happen.
It is a huge decision to make and I am pleased that it is working out for for you.
Oh, and Pancho looks awesome. Sometimes I wish that I can travel with my hounds, but being Jack Russels and from South Africa, that is not going to happen.
May 29, 2015, 2:22 pm
#4
Join Date: Nov 2006
Programs: BA Silver / Aegean
Posts: 287
Mosel tov in your new life
I really enjoyed your post.
Whilst I am British & proud of my nationality we are not great in the UK in always recognising individual pursuits & career changes in direction.
Always remember u tried, isn't life boring if u never crossed that road.
You are a brave individual but are now far richer & wiser from your experience. I envy your guts as I did not have this with my own simple career life choice in country 15 yrs ago!
I wish you & Pancho every luck in the world & thank you for your post on this site which isn't always about class j/f travel.
please post again your future pursuits And take care m8 as we say here in the UK.
Thanks
Steve G.
Whilst I am British & proud of my nationality we are not great in the UK in always recognising individual pursuits & career changes in direction.
Always remember u tried, isn't life boring if u never crossed that road.
You are a brave individual but are now far richer & wiser from your experience. I envy your guts as I did not have this with my own simple career life choice in country 15 yrs ago!
I wish you & Pancho every luck in the world & thank you for your post on this site which isn't always about class j/f travel.
please post again your future pursuits And take care m8 as we say here in the UK.
Thanks
Steve G.
Last edited by steveggetit; May 29, 2015 at 2:36 pm
May 29, 2015, 5:36 pm
#5
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: CLE
Posts: 1,886
When I was young and dumb, well pretty young I did the kibbutz ulpan thing and stayed in Israel for about a year. I realized the kibbutz life wasn't for me, as I'm too much of a capitalist.
You are certainly braver than I.
You are certainly braver than I.
May 29, 2015, 5:54 pm
#6
Join Date: Sep 2004
Location: PDX
Programs: Free agent!
Posts: 1,427
I've always enjoyed reading your TRs and I'm sorry to hear that Israel didn't work out, even if Tel Aviv felt like home. I hope you're able to find a good place either here in the States or wherever else you get the urge to try.
As always, great writing.
As always, great writing.
May 29, 2015, 7:16 pm
#7
Suspended
Join Date: Aug 2005
Location: BOS
Posts: 15,027
Your story reminds me a bit of the Dutch TV show "Ik Vertrek". It is about Dutch families trying their luck abroad. Most of these stories can be summarized as "I hate Holland, let's move to France or Thailand and start a bed'n breakfast."
http://www.avrotros.nl/ikvertrek/home/
It always amazes me how people make these life-altering decisions on a whim. Full of emotions and with hardly any analytical thought.
How boring must my experience seem:
1) Find a job in Boston (via networking)
2) Go for an interview
3) Sign the job contract
4) Make financial, living and commuting arrangements in Boston
5) Organize the move to Boston
6) Move.
http://www.avrotros.nl/ikvertrek/home/
It always amazes me how people make these life-altering decisions on a whim. Full of emotions and with hardly any analytical thought.
How boring must my experience seem:
1) Find a job in Boston (via networking)
2) Go for an interview
3) Sign the job contract
4) Make financial, living and commuting arrangements in Boston
5) Organize the move to Boston
6) Move.
May 29, 2015, 7:23 pm
#8
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: IAH
Programs: DL DM, Hyatt Ist-iest, Stariott Platinum, Hilton Diamond
Posts: 12,792
I remember reading your "move to Israel" TR with great interest. While too bad it didn't work out, I'm sure it's a valuable life lesson and memory. I myself have been talking to a company about a new job opportunity that would require moving to NYC, so I flip between conflicted and excited about that possibility.
May 29, 2015, 8:40 pm
#9
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Treasure Coast, FL
Programs: DL Diamond, Marriott LT Plat, HH Diamond, Avis Preferred Plus, National Executive
Posts: 4,578
Sorry to hear Israel didn't work out for you.
I remember reading your trip report on the move from last year. At least you tried and hopefully you have no regrets.
Best of luck back and I wish you much success in the future. Mazel tov.
I remember reading your trip report on the move from last year. At least you tried and hopefully you have no regrets.
Best of luck back and I wish you much success in the future. Mazel tov.
May 30, 2015, 9:48 am
#10
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Germany
Programs: Some
Posts: 11,522
Guess he is glad you didn´t sell him
May 30, 2015, 1:26 pm
#12
Join Date: Dec 2001
Posts: 3,181
I enjoyed reading your report.
As a Doctor, you were unable to get hired?
Don't they recognize a US license or do you have to take Israeli exams?
I think at least 50% of western immigrants return.
It's OK for older people with money to go there.
Interesting that so many western immigrants seemed to be weirdos.
As a Doctor, you were unable to get hired?
Don't they recognize a US license or do you have to take Israeli exams?
I think at least 50% of western immigrants return.
It's OK for older people with money to go there.
Interesting that so many western immigrants seemed to be weirdos.
May 30, 2015, 4:52 pm
#15
Join Date: Feb 2015
Location: USA
Programs: United, American, Delta, Turkish, Alaska
Posts: 76
Great story, I enjoyed reading it. Moving abroad is never easy, and moving back is always harder than the move itself, whether planned or not. I've moved abroad and come back 3 times now (once planned, once after "giving up" on a place, once after simply having enough), and very few people will understand that re-entry is the worst! A large Israeli community should help, though.
Best of luck with whatever you decide to do next!
Edit: Someone sent me this, and I think it captures it fairly well. http://thoughtcatalog.com/kellie-don...e-talks-about/
Best of luck with whatever you decide to do next!
Edit: Someone sent me this, and I think it captures it fairly well. http://thoughtcatalog.com/kellie-don...e-talks-about/
Last edited by LeisureClassy; May 30, 2015 at 7:59 pm Reason: link