The end of graduation season had finally arrived. My son, Ari, had his second and third graduation ceremonies scheduled to start at 5:30 pm. I looked over the buses scheduled in Moovit and saw that there was one scheduled to leave at 4 and including the walk to the school, we should be there by about ten minutes after 5, giving us 20 minutes to spare.
I let Orli know to be ready to go by 3:45. She complained that her stomach was hurting and didn’t want to go. I told her that she needed to go anyway. I knocked on her door around 3:40 and she said she was almost ready. I continued to prod her to leave, 3:45, 3:46, 3:47, and she was finally out the door. We made it to the bus stop and boarded in time. An easy bus ride, a relaxed walk, and we’d be there.
By this point in time, I really should know better. We followed our route through Haifa in moderate traffic and then turned onto the highway, or should I say, parking lot. Traffic was alternating between a crawl and a full stop. I texted Ari to let him know we might be late and let my wife know, as well.
We finally seemed to clear the jam, and sailed through several stops along an open highway and then, just as quickly, traffic was back to a standstill. There was absolutely no way we were going to make it in time.
The bus didn’t reach the stop until 5:35 and we still had a walk from the bus stop to the moshav and then to the dining hall. I let Ari know we’d made it to the stop. He called and I told him where I was on the route in and he said he’d meet me on the road near the dining hall.
And there he was, standing with his friend Sammy, waiting for us. When we made it to the dining hall, I found out that it was just dinner until 6:30, so I could relax a little.
A long buffet was set up outside and there were a variety of salads, grilled vegetables, hummus, rice, potatoes, and then chicken and beef. I loaded up my plate with salad and veggies. We sat with his friends and ate. I was the only North American parent there and very few of the parents from Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, or other former Soviet bloc states, were there either.
The speeches soon began, and then songs performed by students, and counselors, and then one last closing song, that all the students were called up for and it was over. That was the pnimiyah, or boarding school, graduation.
We had a little bit of a break before the school graduation. Orli still wasn’t feeling well, so she decided to take a bus back to Haifa .
The school graduation was in a large outdoor amphitheater. The program began at 8 with a student dance performance, followed by speeches, and more speeches, interspersed with musical or dance performances, skits, and videos. This included an elaborate video created by the Israeli parents with song and dance and overhead shots. All of the program was emceed by students.
Finally, the time came to call the students up to the stage. There were no caps and gowns, no diplomas or certificates, no recognition by administration or teachers. Each of the nine home rooms was called up two students selected from that class. They began with some humorous remarks, usually in rhyme, extolling the virtues of their class, then calling up students, frequently with nicknames and humor. Ari was in the ninth and final class and he and his classmates had their moment on the stage.
I thought it was over. Maybe one last speech or performance. I was wrong; almost 45 minutes of skits, dances, and videos. It ended around 10:45 with a fireworks show. Afterward, Ari walked me to the bus stop(fortunately this was the close stop). I told him how proud I was of him and sent him back to his friends. I had about a 30-minute wait for the bus, followed by a 45-minute ride back to the hotel. The German Colony was very much alive when I returned after midnight. I walked for five or ten minutes just to see a little of life on the street, and then headed to my room.
Five ceremonies later, both of my children had graduated from high school. After four years, they spoke Hebrew fluently, had passed all of their classes, navigated school and Israeli bureaucracies, made lifelong friends, and achieved a great deal of independence. I could not be more proud of both of them.
My Journey to Israel: Connections and Disruptions 