The Israeli entrepreneurial community has a strong presence in Silicon Valley, having set up many high-tech businesses.

Today, there are an estimated 40,000 Israelis in the Bay Area--with close to 10,000 calling Sunnyvale and Cupertino their home.

However, unlike many other immigrant communities that settle in the U.S., the Israelis seem to be caught at the crossroads of a unique cultural conundrum. On one hand is the intense patriotic pull toward Israel that often leaves this immigrant community longing to move home. And, on the other, is an equally strong sense of parental concern to do what is right by their children, who are growing up more American than Israeli.

An Israeli's sense of nationalistic pride and patriotism is something that is steeped in the history of the small nation's birth and evolution.

"Every time a bunch of us get together, the one topic that definitely comes up is: 'When are you going back home,'" says Taryn Hadas. Hadas and her family moved to the U.S. nine years ago and have lived in Sunnyvale ever since.

To many Israelis, this is not a subject of idle chitchat. "It's a serious goal," Hadas says.

"Unlike other cultures, we grew up understanding the significance of Israel. My parents came from Russia to live in Israel. I grew up with the strong belief that the Jewish people do not have any other land to call their own but Israel," says Isabel Efroni, a Cupertino resident.

Yair Hadas says living outside the country for several years does not diminish the love for their motherland. "Israel is a very small piece of land [about the size of Rhode Island] with a population of just over six million people who are constantly under threat. And when you realize that fact, nothing can destroy the connection to your homeland. That's why you'll see that while Israelis come in to the U.S. to work, there are many who also go back home. So there is traffic both ways," Hadas says.

With such an impassioned attitude, one wonders why so many have left Israel.

"To us it was a combination of reasons," says Hanna Bamnolker, who left Tel Aviv 10 years ago. She, her husband Yehuda Bamnolker and three children now live in Cupertino.

"Economically, both of us were in paying, high-tech jobs there. But we were paying almost 65 percent of our salaries to taxes--most of which is spent on defense. This is not easy for a young family with children who want to save for the future. The salaries here are more attractive," says Bamnolker. She says another reason for coming here was the political unrest in the region.

"We wanted a more calm life bringing up our children," Bamnolker says.

At the time the Bamnolkers left Israel, the situation was not as violent as it became in the years between 2000 and 2003.

"But during the time we were living in Tel Aviv, there were a few buses that were bombed, and it was difficult for me to send my 6-year-old son to school everyday," she says.

Bamnolker's sentiments resonate with Isabel Efroni. Efroni's first son was about 5 years old when the family moved to Cupertino.

"At that time my son was talking about soldiers dying and helicopters crashing. It was difficult to watch the effect on a small child because the images were on TV all the time," she says. Efroni says her second son, who is now 5 and growing up in America, has no concept of war.

"To me it's amazing to see the difference in my two children who have grown up in two different circumstances," she says.

There are other reasons for moving, as well.

"To us, coming to America was all about an exciting job offer and experiencing a new culture," Hadas says. "The place where we lived was not very dangerous. But I think when you live there, you don't think of Israel as a dangerous place. It's just the western perception. California has earthquakes. But we continue to live here. In New York so many people lost their lives on 9-11. But people still continue to live in New York."

For many Israeli immigrants, maintaining strong bonds with the homeland and their heritage is important. "Even if you are not a devout Jew, during Yom Kippur [Day of Atonement] you will find most Israeli Jews trying to observe the traditions. In Israel Yom Kippur is a national holiday. Everything is closed. No TV. No radio. We fast, we do not work and try to spend the time praying at the synagogue. But it is so difficult practicing our traditions in America because this is not a national holiday. We need to be at work. Children have other commitments. It becomes a real struggle to pass on our traditional values," says Efroni.

This is where organizations such as Chabad offers support.

Chabad is a Brooklyn-based organization that has more than 3,000 chapters worldwide. The organization sends rabbis to communities where there is a large Jewish presence. The rabbi sets up a local chapter of Chabad, which provides social and religious opportunities for the Jewish community to come together and keep their heritage alive.

Over the past 10 years, the Israeli community in Cupertino and Sunnyvale has grown exponentially because of the good schools in the area. Which is why, last year, Chabad sent Rabbi Reuven Goldstein to set up a local chapter in Cupertino. Sunnyvale has had a Chabad since 2002.

"My job here is to make every Jew feel comfortable with his or her heritage, even if they've never heard about a synagogue," Goldstein says. "We try to create programs for adults and children in the city which will help them celebrate their culture."

Last year was the first time a menorah was lit for Chanukah in Cupertino's Cali Mill Plaza. This December Chabad plans similar celebrations.

The Sunnyvale Chabad runs summer camps, Hebrew Sunday schools and holiday programs.

"In the past, we've had around 300 people attending our major holiday events, and I have about 50 people weekly attending the Shabbat [Sabbath] services," Rabbi Yisroel Hecht says. Hecht is the head of the Sunnyvale Chabad. He says that while the programs he runs for children are geared toward a better understanding of Judaism, they also teach the younger generation to be proud of their Israeli and American identities.

Because of the growing interest in Cupertino, Gitty Goldstein, wife of Rabbi Goldstein and the program director of Chabad, has launched several programs for young second-generation Israeli Americans.

"One of the most exciting programs we have started are bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah clubs for young boys and girls who will be having their celebrations soon," she says. The club meets once a month and discusses a variety of subjects, ranging from growing up Jewish in America to learning verses from the Torah to understanding Jewish holidays. The Cupertino Chapter also plans to start a regular Shabbat dinner and services soon.

Adi Bamnolker, 13, an eighth-grader at Kennedy Middle school, joined the bat mitzvah club last month.

"I'm happy I joined the club because it reminds us of our heritage. Otherwise, we don't get a chance to talk much about it," she says.

The clubs all foster a sense of nationalist pride among young Israeli Americans--so much so that the parents' patriotism often appears in the next generation.

One Cupertino resident, who did not want to be identified, experienced first-hand how it felt to be the mother of a patriotic Israeli teenager.

"My daughter was 16¹/2 and was attending Monta Vista High School. We'd been living in America for close to seven years by then. Out of the blue, one day she came to us and said she wanted to go back home and join the army," the mother says. And she did.

According to Israeli law, every person at the age of 18 must serve in the Israeli army, two years for women, and three for men. While there are no such requirements for Israelis growing up outside the country, the Monta Vista high-schooler decided to follow the dictates of her heart.

"She was close to 11 when we moved here and she never felt happy leaving Israel. I think she felt truly happy only after she had made the decision," says this mother of three.

Sending one's child to serve in the army is not an easy decision for a parent--especially during wartime. The Monta Vista graduate served in the army between 2001 and 2003, when violence was at its peak in the region.

"I knew she had to cross a few Arab villages to get to her kibbutz every day. So I was a little worried. Now she is out of the army and is attending a university there."

"I think of my daughter's decision as an investment in all our futures," the mother says. "We will be here in the U.S. until my other two children finish high school. Then we can all go back to Israel and be together again."

Not all Israeli-American youngsters are ready to pack their bags and leave. For many who were either born here or have lived most of their young lives here, America is the only homeland they know. For them, Israel is a place to visit extended family and spend vacations. This creates a dilemma for those parents who still dream of returning.

In any case, the tie to the homeland remains deep. At the end of the Seder--the feast commemorating the Jews exodus from Egypt--the Jews always say, "Next year in Jeruselem."

For information about this year's Chanukah celebration, contact Rabbi Reuven Goldstein at 408.725.0910.