my story- part 1

How it came to be that I live in Israel.

I thought after one year of blogging I should write down my story. Or at least a part of it. I still many times think about how it came to be that I live now in Israel. If it was destiny (is there something like destiny anyway?). How everything started- and well, where exactly did it start?
So let's go to the very start of it:
My parents met in 1974. No- not in Switzerland where they are both from, but in Kibbutz Einat in Israel. They were both volunteers there. My father for the 2nd time. (the 1st time he stayed as a volunteer during the war in 1973- 1974- a crazy story by itself.) My mother was in the Kibbutz for the 1st time -together with her brother.
They actually only started to date when they were both back in Switzerland- but without the stay in the Kibbutz they most probably never would have met, since both are coming from different places in Switzerland.
In April 1976 they went back to the Kibbutz together and stayed there until December 1976. In January 1977 they got married and in March I was born. You can do the math yourself.
When I was 2 my parents took me for a trip to Israel and the Sinai (today Egypt- at that time Israel) to visit friends and to travel. Those are my first memories- probably because they were so unique. My first flight when I received postcards, colour pencils and colouring books from the flight attendant (I treasured them for years and at least the postcards still exist now after 32 years.). Playing with the kids of my parents friends. Staying in the children's house.
A scanned picture of me in the Sinai desert 1979 and..

... in the children's house in Kibbutz Einat
So Israel was always present. Looking at old pictures and movies, hearing stories from my parents.
Through the stories from the bible also a historical part came alive and when I got older I got more interested in the story of the Jewish people. I read a lot of books and I always seemed to bump into something new connected to the Jewish people or Israel.
When I was 15 or 16 my parents thought about going for summer-holidays to Israel and I got real excited- and then terribly disappointed when they chose to travel with us to Scandinavia (Norway). (Despite my first resentment I fell in love with Scandinavia and re-visited many times afterwards! I would love to go again one day.)
So when during my studies at the teacher's college we had to go and work for half a year in a "non-social-profession", I chose to take the chance and go to work in a Kibbutz. To see for myself how life is there. To experience everything for myself…
In December 1998 I packed my backpack and boarded the train in Basel. Together with another student who wanted to go to Israel too- just to another Kibbutz- I started my journey on land and water. I did not want to take the plane. I wanted to travel slow as my parents did (okay- not that slow- they choose even longer routes- through Austria and Yugoslavia and all kinds of Greek islands…) and like the people before, during and after the 2nd World War.
We took the train from Basel to Milan to Brindisi (Italy), the ferry to Patras (Greece), the train to Athens and the ferry via Rhodes and Limassol (Cyprus) to Haifa- Israel.
(All my pictures are still at my parent's place in Switzerland... so I have no more picturs to post...)

Part 2 will follow next week.

Have a nice day!


Petra said…
We'll, that's quite a story. Funny how history repeats itself. I'm curious for part two!

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