17 April 2007

Part 1
I arrived back in Israel Sunday afternoon, exhausted and rather disoriented. The flight back from JFK via Madrid was decent, save the non-defrosted kosher meals and the Israeli who had to make friends with everyone on the plane. I shot him a look of annoyance every time he tried to make eye contact.
Flying on Iberia to and from Israel was an interesting linguistic experience, as my six years of learning Spanish flooded back into my immediate brainwaves like blood rushing to one’s head after getting up quickly. Soon I was mimicking the stewardesses’ Castilian accents, full of lisps that came in handy as they were just as adamant as Americans in speaking their native tongue. Spanish and Hebrew blended into one seamless language full of long vowels and absent of the sound of the letter of my first name. The Madrid airport was visually impressive, the duty-free extensive but not as good as Israel’s (not that I could afford anything) and the little food that wasn’t covered in Spanish ham decent (read: a salad and a thick omelet sandwich that makes the thin Israeli version even more pitiful than it already is).

But this wasn’t a trip to Spain. I landed in JFK several weeks ago. I watched the overweight family in front of me go through security and the TSA agents screaming and cursing at one another, and knew I was back in America. After a few days in DC, my parents and I drove to our relatives in Ohio – a nine-hour drive that I normally hate, but this was my chance to soak up some Americana. In no time I was immersed in drawls and Cracker Barrel and endless tracts of land. Pesach was its usual spectacle, at least 20 people per night at my aunt’s with the requisite family dynamics. I lead the s’darim, trying to keep a progressively fading crowd captive, and helped to instigate a family-wide debate over the nature of freedom and existence of universal values that left me as the more philosophically liberal voice at the heated table (moral relativism, onward!). Just as important, I took advantage of my cousin’s free drinks perk at Starbucks several times, not to mention making her blast one of the country music stations while driving around. A good yet abbreviated trip to the Midwest.

My inability to shop like an Israeli at duty-free (read: with abandon for the sake of a good deal) was made up for in DC stocking up on magazines, clothes and the always important Airborne.

Friends and family keep asking how the trip was, my first once since emigrating. As I summed up to one person, “It’s great to be there, it’s great to be here.” Coined in a state of delirium after sleeping for 16 hours, tihs line that would make Dr. Seuss proud best sums up my situation. Even though I know I made the right decision in moving here (a crappy school and lack of work situation notwithstanding) it was great being back in the States and it’ll be great to be back again. For me it took a trip back to the States to internalize how much I missed family & friends, and how much they miss me – a great feeling indeed. Despite the almost 24 hour voyage each way, I didn’t mind the actual act of flying, so there will be future attempts at creating a life Here and There simultaneously.

Part 2
Trying to stay up as long as possible to avoid jet lag, I pass out around 10pm only to wake up a few hours later still dressed. Ten hours later, I slowly get up out of bed in time to hear the siren marking Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Memorial Day. I was planning on going downtown to see life stop for a minute, crazy drivers and all – as it does every year – but all I managed to muster was getting out of bed and go right back to sleep. The siren, which will also be sounded next week for Memorial Day, is as much about a moment of reflection as it is about recognizing the fragility of everyday life here in Israel – the same siren, with its piercing winding-up and winding-down effect, is the same one sounded should something more immediate occur.

Several hours later, I forced myself to wake up after a self-record of 16 hours! The jetlag this time is fierce, overpowering even a second cup of coffee.

The Student Union began a strike before break was over, and continues at least through 18/4 with no reports of it ceasing soon. My interest in going back to working full-time grows with each day, as I’m finding myself more and more restless in a good way, wanting to get immersed in something impactful that can provide disposable income.
That's it for now, tomorrow's a new day of no school, a possible to Tel Aviv and the definite continuing of jetlag.