From nearly the moment I stepped off the Nefesh B'Nefesh organization's chartered 747 at Ben Gurion Airport on July 14, 2004, my life has been quite different from the one I knew back in Tucson. Sometimes I have to pinch myself, wondering, "Am I actually here, living this life and experiencing the things I am experiencing?" At other times, I want to slap myself upside the head: "Why did I move  here, of all places?"

For the first five months I was in Israel, my time was basically spent living in Jerusalem and dealing with my first serious relationship, with an incredibly beautiful but amazingly insecure girl from Paris, France: Sophie. During a period when I should have been learning Hebrew, I was often getting yelled at in French. We broke up and got back together again a few times, and even got engaged last fall before our final split in early January. Since then, I've spent nearly seven months finding and losing work; finding a good job isn't all that easy here if your Hebrew level isn't up to par with, say, even that of a 5-year-old. I'm happy to report though, that I recently found work doing Internet-related writing and editing in Tel Aviv.

Life here has a lot to do with security and the mandatory process of registering for the Israel Defense Forces. I've been to the recruitment offices here in Jerusalem three times at the summons of the army since May, and still have no idea when or if I will serve. Several of my friends here have already been drafted or received their draft dates. Whether I join their ranks or not, I can't help but notice soldiers here: they surround me on the bus, stand in line behind me at Burger King, and push their way past me at the supermarket. And while I do miss being able to walk into a mall or go to see a movie without having to pass through a metal detector (or be patted down to make sure I'm not a suicide bomber), it is a consequence of my choosing to live in a country that has unfortunately and unfairly been placed in a state of perpetual war since the day it was founded. Yes, security precautions are widespread in Israel, but in general life goes on here just like it does everywhere else.

All in all, my first year outside the United States has been one of the most rewarding periods in my life. It is a bit ironic that I spent my first Yom Kippur as a new Israeli not in Israel, but in Paris; I broke my semi-fast at a McDonald's near the Jardin du Luxembourg. Aside from that, I've umpired little league baseball games in Jewish settlements, celebrated many a Shabbat in the Old City of Jerusalem, held a Passover Seder in my own apartment in Jerusalem (an apartment shared with a fellow former Tucsonan, Aaron Greenberg), and made friends from all over the world. I've seen my fair share of sunsets on the beaches of Tel Aviv, Eilat and Haifa, too, and if you're ever here, I highly recommend checking one of those out for yourself.

I've learned a lot about self-reliance, love, and my identity as a Jew since moving to Israel. While much of what I've learned has come at a great emotional cost that I would have rather not have had to pay, I know that I've matured because of all of it. With the controversial Israeli pullout from the Gaza Strip fast approaching, more modern Jewish history is going to be made in the upcoming months and I'm honored - and I'll admit, a little nervous, too - to be able to be here to share in all the joy, sorrow, pain and pleasure that comes with being an active participant in what is surely one of the greatest and most exciting Jewish stories since Biblical times. I do miss my friends and my family so much, though. Moving away hasn't been easy, but it hasn't exactly been boring, either. Bring on year two