Settling in: Final thoughts

Well, it took me five days to get motivated enough, but my bags are unpacked, my clothes are put away, and with the exception of a few notebooks and miscellaneous papers, everything is in its place.  I even took a break to eat a thoroughly non-Israeli lunch: a peanut butter and jelly with banana sandwich.  I am officially home.

My melancholy of a few days ago has subsided a bit, especially after celebrating a joyous occasion with a huge portion of my close and extended family yesterday.  I have spent time with most of the close friends I missed so much while gone, and I've even been accepted back at my summer job which I'll start on Wednesday.  All in all, I'm feeling a little less "out of it" and a whole lot more "part of it."

There was also an innocuous moment a few days ago when my dog decided 6:30 am was the perfect time to wake up.  At her whining command I got out of bed and followed her downstairs to the door.  Normally I would just open the door for her, let her do her business, then let her back in, but that day I decided to go outside with her.  At that quiet early-morning moment, I stood, breathed, and was washed over with a scent I had forgotten I loved so much.  You know how it smells early in the morning, when the dew is just getting warmed by the sun and the grass is particularly green?  It's a smell associated with that special feeling of being awake just before everyone else, when the neighborhood is still quietly clutching to the final moments of a dream.  It's a smell associated with summer and a frolicking dewy-pawed dog, fewer obligations and walking around barefoot.  It's the smell of home.

I breathed slowly and deeply as I tuned my senses to all the things I didn't realize I had missed and finally felt truly happy to be back in the comfort of this particular home.

In some ways it's hard to believe I did what I did - traveled across an ocean, lived nearly half a year in a different country with different languages, learned and worked alongside people from around the globe.  I look back and wonder "Did this really happen?  Or was it just a dream?"  But my e-mails and Facebook conversations in Hebrew, the pictures filling my hard drive, and this blog are all evidence of my journey.  They are also reminders of what I am capable of and that maybe the world isn't quite so terrifyingly big after all.

But for now, my journeys as a temporary kibbutznikit are over, so I think it is the perfect time to thank you for reading this and joining me on my journey.  I may not know you personally, but knowing you read this, even occasionally, gave me something of a feeling of purpose.  At the very least it's nice to know someone is interested in what you're doing.  I hope throughout it all you learned something and smiled a bit, and maybe it even gave you the extra little push you needed to go on your own adventure.  Lech lecha.  Lechi lach.  Lechu lachem. לכו לכם

I do have one final request of you, though.  Some have recommended I continue writing and I must admit, I do enjoy it.  What do you think?  Should I keep blogging, throwing my thoughts into cyberspace for the benefit of anyone with a few spare minutes in their day?  I'd love to hear from all of you, so please feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you think!

Until next time (whenever that may be), להתראות, au revoir, goodbye.  It was wonderful traveling with you :)

I'm home!

Back when I first arrived to Israel I published a post with the same title, so it seems only fitting that now, having returned to my first home, I do the same.

I've been at this home for slightly over 30 hours now and I'm not sure if it's jet lag or weird body rhythms that has me up at 6:30 in the morning.  It should be noted that on my last day in Israel I also woke up earlier than necessary, so I'm not sure if this is entirely the fault of travel.  Either way, I'm not quite as rested as I would have hoped and I'm still feeling the effects of not sleeping more than 30 minutes the day I traveled.  I may be due for a nap today.

People ask me if I'm happy to be home and I respond that I'm happy to be with everyone again.  But home?  For five months my home was on the other side of the world.  Is it weird to say I'm homesick?

Coming back into town, walking into my house, even seeing my family again, it was almost like I never left.  Sure, the paint on the bathroom walls have changed since I left, there's a new rug in one room, new lawn chairs, and my dog is a bit scruffier than when I left, but nothing significant has changed.  It's almost as if I put my real life on hold when I flew across the Atlantic in February and now that I'm back I can just start again right where I left off.  No big deal, right?

Except it's not so simple.  I'm restarting my "real" life with a new language on my tongue, new memories behind my eyes, and new experiences reverberating through my body.  Everyone is more or less as I left them but I just got back from a life-changing experience.  How do I just "start again" with all that in me?  I want to tell everyone, to share my excitement, but without people near me who have had a similar experience I don't know exactly what to do with all the memories roiling around in my head.  I never realized that returning to normal would be such a daunting endeavor.

What will I do without hearing at least four languages every day, or without speaking at least three?  How will I feel when, because of social custom, I won't get a kiss on the cheek when I say hi to an old acquaintance?  And then of course there are all the challenges associated with returning to a country where, as a Jew, I'm the minority, which never really bothered me before but there's something indescribably cool about saying "Shabbat Shalom" to the stranger who picks you up when you're hitchhiking on a Friday afternoon.

I will admit, though, I'm glad to be in my bedroom, in my house, in my town.  I'm glad that I just answered the phone and the receptionist making the call was nice, courteous, and understandable.  I love that it's a little cooler and I'm not suffering even without the air conditioner on.  And, of course, I am immensely thrilled that yesterday I spent hours with some of my best friends, talking about boys and family and life and trying our hardest to make up for all the hugs we couldn't share for so long.

Homesick at home?  An interesting predicament, but if I've learned anything in the last five months it's how to deal with interesting predicaments.  Luckily, unlike in Israel, this time I'm surrounded by all the loved ones I missed so desperately.

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The Photos page has been updated with an album of pictures from my last few days in Israel.  Enjoy!

Sand through an hour glass and other over-used metaphors

With only seven-and-a-half days left in this country things are rapidly winding down and all the Last Moments are waiting there turn to be noticed and commemorated.  Last Saturday marked my Last Shabbat on the Kibbutz and my Last Opportunity to Go to the Club (which I had every intention of doing but ended up missing completely), last night was [probably] my Last Time Shopping in Rehovot, today marked the important and emotional Last Class with Our Teacher, and there are many more Last Moments ahead of me.  Each one will get their moment in the spotlight where it is potentially overly-cherished, celebrated, and wished farewell.

Saying goodbye to our teacher today was a fairly significant one of the Lasts.  Though we have a few more hours of class before our exam on Thursday our teacher will not be with us for them as she is flying to the U.S. with her son for a couple months of site-seeing and frivolity, so today we celebrated.  We bought her a hilarious thank you/parting gift, I wrote her a special card of my own, and she baked us a cake.  We took pictures, some girls shed a few tears, and we said our goodbyes.  It truly was one of those moments that renewed my faith and desire to be a teacher.

Thursday will be my last full day on the kibbutz and Friday I plan on leaving to travel a bit more before I leave.  Yet despite the fact that the next few days will be filled with packing, organizing, arranging, then traveling, hiking, hanging out, and more traveling, I have surprisingly few things on my mental list of Things I Want to Do Before I Leave Israel.  I suppose that's a good sign indicating that I have, in fact, experienced a lot while here and I'll be ready to go home without feeling as if I missed out on too much.  With the exception of eating at another hummussia and visiting the Banias before I leave, I don't feel there's a lot I absolutely have to do before I leave.  All in all, I'm feeling very fulfilled.

Additionally, one reason I don't feel the urge to do more here may have to do with the incredibly strong force that is homesickness.  Even now it's hard for me to believe that I picked up and flew away from my family and friends for so long, and the allure of seeing them again so soon is almost too much to bear.  Generally speaking I didn't suffer from great bouts of homesickness.  With the exception of the holidays and my birthday I usually kept busy and enjoyed myself enough to justify being so removed from normal life, but when I allow myself to stop and think about it the distance is almost too much to bear, especially when it comes to my friends.  Sure, I've made friends here, but nobody compares to my amazing group at home.  Ya hear that, girls and guy (you know who you are)?  We're only a week away from the most epic reunion we've had yet!

I know this is a short post (Who just exasperatedly said "finally"?), but rest assured there will be more posts coming in the following days.  After all, I have to give each of those Last Moments their well-earned minutes of fame, right?