Tales of Bitaḥon: Settling in Eretz Yisrael

When I arrived in Eretz Yisrael, I did not have a plan of where I was going to stay or what I was going to. I understood that Hashem will pave the path for me. Upon arriving at the airport, the Olim were gathered together by someone working for the Medinah. He said that the cab ride to the place of stay would be free, so I decided to be sent as far up north as I thought was reasonable to go to, and from there, I was able to find where to stay in Tzfat.

Passover was the first Chag I experienced in Eretz Ha-Kdoshah. I did not, yet, have plans for where I would be for the seder. During the week that would lead into Passover (starting on Shabbat), I decided to do hitbodedut in a cave that I had heard about but had never visited. It was in a park. On my way there, I was trying to figure out the location of it, and I discovered a young couple with a kid, they told me where to go. They also gave me the number of the rabbi that was hosting the seder that they were going to. And that’s how I was able to have a seder for Passover.

Now, there were some practical issues with staying in Tzfat long-term, so I decided to move to Yerushalayim. A rabbi, in Tzfat, told me that it would be a good idea to find people near the Mir. I went to the Mir and there, I asked someone if he knew where I could rent. He invited me to his place, and from there, he brought me to his place. And a neighbor was able to temporarily host me for 15 days. I was told that on the 15th day, I would have to leave as the room would become occupied by other guests. It was on that 15th day that I found a long-term place in that same part of town.

When it comes to finding a Yeshivah, this inyan involved just as much hashgachah pratit as the aformentioned events. I had heard of a Yeshivah in the part of town that I live in, so I decided to walk up the hill to go to it. Half way there, a rabbi, who know of me (despite having never had any formal conversation) invites me to learn with him in the Beit Midrash where he is the Rosh Kollel. And that is how I became part of this Beit Midrash.

Around this time, a friend of mine had a son. That son had to remain in the hospital because of heart problems. They asked me to daven for him at the kevarim in the land. So I went to Har Zeitim. Now, at the time, I did not realize that this was in a fully goyish area (the Arab side of town), but I knew it was worth it since I was davening for the son.

Upon my arrival, nightfall had already started, and I was the only person in the entire cemetery. I had all of the time to myself. I was able to daven at an incredibly large number of kevarim. Now, it was just a matter of returning home. Because it is an incredible danger for a Jew to be in a non-Jewish place, it became imperative for me to take the first bus that came. That bus turned out to be a bus where the bus company was Arab, but the bus dropped me off near the Light Rail of the Old City (near the entrance to the Muslim quarter but not “East Jerusalem”), and I was able to go home safely.