Wednesday, 25 January 2017

Aliyah comments

The preface 

The plane flew into Tel Aviv airport from Milan. The second part of the journey had been the longest for Jehoiakim Altland, the Jewish journalist. The first section of the flight from London to Milan took a little under two hours, but the trip from Milan to Tel Aviv took four hours. Air travel was no bother - now - for Jehoiakim, but he still remembered his first flight to Canada from Gatwick. How could he forget, he'd been forced to travel overnight for an early morning flight and suffering from nerves he'd not been able to rest during the six-hour wait for the flight. It didn't help his cause that the night he set off, he'd got soaked through within minutes of leaving his house. How he longed to feel the hot sun on his back again after all these years.

The trip was made longer by an unexpected layover from his London flight. He was returning to his homeland for his Aliyah.
Although he was a Jew, Jehoiakim had spent the majority of his life far away, in England mostly but his work as a photojournalist took him all over at a moments notice. Deep in his heart, he knew something spiritual was missing in his life. Jehoiakim knew he needed to return to the Holy Land for some reason, but the reason evaded him. His life as a journalist was so busy over the last few years with the amount of traveling he needed to do; he found he didn't have time to plan this trip kept slipping away from him. He had found the longer he waited, the more the desire to return burned in his soul.

The flight change caught Jehoiakim off guard; he'd turned up at the airport expecting to board the through flight to Tel Aviv, to find that his editor had changed the plan and booked him for the trip to Milan. There was no time to find an answer as the modification of policy had left him with only a few minutes over the hour passengers have to board their flights. The stopover in Milan was no problem, after all, he'd always wished he had the time for an Italian vacation, and Milan, not Rome, would be the city he wanted to see. He wished someone had notified him, that is all, sudden changes of itinerary could mean anything, and at this time, not knowing the reason for the alteration had put him on edge.
The only message he'd received at the desk was a garbled one, from his editor, "I arranged for you to meet Adrianna Kucinski, in Milan. She's doing a European tour and stopping over in Milan for a day or two."

The name was nothing new to Jehoiakim as he'd kept abreast of the writing world, in his role as a journalist - even if he had stopped writing outside his job on the Jewish Express. As a reporter, he'd made a name for himself by asking interviewees awkward questions, and not giving up until he got close to the truth - as he saw it - this had both won him fans and respect from his readers, but he'd also made enemies of some powerful people. Death threats were nothing new to him, either as a Jew or a hard-talking reporter. He always kept in mind the quote from Woodrow Wilson,"If you want to make enemies, try to change something."
The changes are a constant companion as a writer, people's views, opinions, and the political interplay was always moving, changing faster than the winds sometimes. Your friend today could become an enemy overnight; such was the life the Jewish people had been forced to live with since time began. The Israelis had long ago learned that trust is as fickle as the desert wind that burns the aridness surrounding you, most people would turn on you if it were to their benefit. Those who stood by you at any cost risked becoming targets for hate as much as the Jews themselves, and those were the people you could trust even if there were few of them to be found.

Jehoiakim had accepted the meeting with Mrs. Kucinski without a second thought; he had little else to do as it was too late to question the call when he received it and Jehoiakim realized a stop-over would be pleasant once, in a while, his writing was getting jaded recently he had noted. He lacked the biting touch his readers came to expect, and he wasn't happy with his work either, even if the regular work paid the bills there was no satisfaction in writing lackluster articles for the younger readers when he wanted to do items of note.  Sure, he had gained a massive following with the youngsters but did he want to report on the pop circus when he knew life was moving fast, and he was missing the real stories?
Something out in the world was calling Jehoiakim, and he needed to find out what was calling him; first he had to find out what was calling him back to Israel at this time, more importantly, why this year?

The plane landed at Milan, after disembarking, Jehoiakim made his way to the lounge for a cup of coffee - when in Milan try the best coffee in Italy - one of his colleagues told him on his return from a job in Italy.

Comments on the early draft
These comments are from a Jewish lady on Disqus:-
Mazel Tov! I really enjoyed and would love to read more. :) Thank you for sharing. I became quite interested just from your little excerpt.
Please let us know when you've finished....sounds like my kind of story.

And this is from someone in Japan
Hm, reading through it was feeling pretty easy, guess it's due to your style of writing. It seems simply, still doesn't get boring and easy and fast to follow.
Sadly, not much is happening; one page is just that - one page. Furthermore, you have not yet caught my personal interest when it comes to the story as a whole - "only" my interest as someone who is trying to be able to write in English as well :)
Still, very much worth a recommendation :)

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