To the disappointment of the new sociologists, I never felt rejected, despised, inferior, or jealous of my Israeli-born friends. There was not even one moment where I did not feel at home.
Language difficulties? I had problems with the language, yet Hebrew (and this is a well-known secret) is not a difficult language. I remember with longing the paths of the transit camp, the howling jackals near my hut, the bonfires, and my first date, which was accompanied by the intoxicating scent of the orchards.
Yes, this was a new country for me. However, it was not a foreign country.
I was not fortunate to go through or be shaped by any such conscience-etching experiences, whether they are real or imaginary.
No such thing as typical Israeli
I have no absorption trauma and you cannot force out of me any kind of repressed memory of immigrant humiliation. I was not humiliated and I was not an immigrant. I was the son of a family of new olim who lived deep below the poverty line, and I felt an inseparable part of the Israeliness around me.