Hello! Remember me? I used to write here. You, for some reason, still come back every day (or however often) to check to see if I’ve updated. Well, I haven’t. I mean, I have, just not until now. So, I guess, now I have. So, I have. At this point you’re asking yourself what you ever liked about my blog. And I don’t blame you…
Anyways, I promised a blog a while back on nefesh b’nefesh, back when I was still really angry with them for refusing to help me. Now I’m less angry, but I still think they suck. Here’s why… (cue eerie suspenseful instrumental music (you have to have watched the entire first season of 24 with the subtitles on to have gotten that (watching the entire first (and second) season(s) of 24 with or without subtitles may or may not account for my prolonged absence from blogging)))
Nefesh B’Nefesh, God bless ‘em, help people with bureaucracy when making aliya. At least, that’s what they pretend to do. What they actually do is take all the cookie cutter aliya cases of rich dentists from Woodmere (10 points for whoever tells me what song includes the line “dentist from woodmere”) who have the easiest and simplest time making aliya anyway, fill out their forms for them, and give them a bucket of cash to “ease the transition”. Complicated aliya cases (like, for example, me) get no help. Should you ever have the misfortune to make aliya after volunteering with Magen David Adom before signing up for over a year of (volunteer!) service in the army (and forget about the nearly three years in yeshiva), expect no help from Nefesh B’Nefesh. No money, no cutting through red tape. We, obviously, need no help with “easing the transition.”
Now then, after getting no help from NBN, and after being informed that after you spend 18 months in the country (I had been here 23) you lose the sal klita (a bucket of cash from the state, not to be confused with the bucket of cash from NBN) I decided that there was no rush to finish the whole aliya process, and took my time. I may have set the record for longest gap between getting a teudat zehut and getting a teudat oleh (10 and a half months). Here’s where the laziness pays part comes in. After yelling at me for being so damn lazy, the nice lady in the office tells me that, lucky for me, they changed the law just a couple of days ago, and instead of an 18 month cap on the sal klita, it’s extended to 24 months (readers of previous parenthetical comments will note that I qualified for this by a mere month). Had I taken care of all the necessary on time, I would never have gotten the money.
So that’s where the story ends. Because I was lazy, and got screwed by Nefesh B’Nefesh, I got a lump sum of 15,542 shekels (14$ US).
.Until next time… whenever that may be