The non-accent

When I made aliyah, I didn't give my accent very much thought. I have a near-perfect Israeli accent when I speak Hebrew, which, I have learned, is both a blessing and a curse.

When I go out with other olim chadashim [new immigrants], they're all sure that Israeli vendors are trying to rip us off. As we approach booths in the shuk [market] or at the Nachalat Binyamin art fair, my friends' voices drop to hushed tones.

"Ask him, in Hebrew, how much the necklace costs," someone will whisper, then stand hunched behind me, listening for an answer and hissing demands as I try to negotiate the price.

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Here to stay

It's been a world-wind journey over the past few days.

The feeling of being an 'Oleh Chadash' is not going to sink in for a while, and certainly will not until the Rally is over in a few days time.  Having said that, there's an immediate affinity that I do feel to my surroundings and with the people we meet and talk to along the way. And even on the simplest level, following road signs written in Ivrit after travelling so far and seeing signs in so many other languages has a nice feeling.

I've been an Oleh for a little over 24 hours, and I'm not sure there are many Olim who have started off their stay in Israel as we have. We have a jam-packed schedule until the finale on Wednesday, so I'll just tell you a little about what we've done so far.

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Some inspiration

I write to you now on board our overnight ferry from Italy to Greece, the last country on our voyage before we arrive in Israel. On Monday we traveled from Siena to our evening stop-over in an amazing castle just north of Rome. Tuesday, we drove down to Naples driving through the winding hills of central Italy.

As promised, I'll take this opportunity to share with you some experiences that we have had with a particular individual on this trip.

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