On Sunday night, my family drove me down to New York for my flight the next day. I was able to sleep surprisingly well. The next morning we spent hours in line waiting for the moment that made it all real, saying goodbye. I think my mind had blocked out the reality of what was about to happen up until this point when it started to hit me. I was leaving home, my parents, my brother, and my sister. I’ll spare you the details of the emotional goodbye.
While waiting in line for my boarding pass I had a very disturbing moment. All the to-be-soldiers were given a shirt, so we were easily recognizable. A woman approached my friend and said, “When you get there, kill those Arabs!” My friend and I laughed it off, but it truly bothered me. Here is a woman, whose daughter is making Aliyah, and she is going into a new society with a misguided and hateful sentiment towards Israel’s Arab population. It is gross that people educate their children to hate.
My flight was a charter flight only for people making aliyah. There were 125 kids like me who were going to become soldiers, and 206 others simply making aliyah. I had heard that these flights are a non-stop party with singing and dancing, and I was excited yet worried because I like to sleep on planes. Most of the ride was spent crowding the aisles and meeting kids from other Garinim. I had a conversation with a girl who went to the University of Michigan which was very cool because had I gone to college instead, I would have attended U of M. Near the end of the ride, the speakers were busted out and the clapping and dancing started. The flight attendants even brought us champagne. 
Once the plane landed and the customary hand-clapping took place, we were ushered down onto the tarmac, where we posed for what seemed like 200 cameras. We were then bussed to the terminal, where reportedly 1,600 people were waiting to welcome all 331 new Olim (immigrants). There was then a lengthy ceremony with a surprise performance by Rami Kleinshtein, and then we were sent to another waiting room to be processed for our Teduat Oleh (Immigrant ID).
I am spending the day catching up on sleep lost on the flight, and undoubtably screwing myself over with jetlag, at my relative’s house in Tel Aviv. Tomorrow we have the official Garin Tzabar ceremony, after which we will be on our way to Kibbutz Beit Zera!
Yours Truly
Shaul Armony 