M&D's Visit -- A Grand Week Out!

If you caught the Wallace & Gromit reference in the title, bonus points for you!  Anyhow, posting my reflection about an hour ago actually motivated me to finally write this up, so here goes!

Our adventures began on a Tuesday morning.  M&D had flown to Tel Aviv through London and then took a sherut to Jerusalem.  They were both feeling remarkably well-rested, so I took the bus to their hotel!  We walked into and around the Old City, shopping and chatting and drinking fresh juice, and had a delicious lunch of kebabs (the same ones Kat and I stumbled upon on her first day in the Holy City).

Then we took a cab back to their hotel so that Mom could take a nap, and Dad took the bus to campus with me so he could know how to find it the next day when they came to visit the university.  I went to class while Dad went back and napped as well, and I met them that evening for a lovely dinner at Tmol Shilshom, one of my absolute FAVOURITE places in Jerusalem -- I'm heartbroken that I discovered it so late!  It was also where I ate my last meal in Israel with Arielle a couple weeks later.

The next day they came to visit me at Hebrew U.  We had cappuccinos at Aroma and saw my favourite vistas on campus (including the amphitheatre, below), and then we went to French Hill Falafel because, well, how could we not?  I sent them on the light rail to Yad Vashem while I went to class, then we met up with a few of my favourite friends for an incredibly delicious dinner at Darna, a Moroccan restaurant in Jerusalem.  Good food, good wine, good friends -- a wonderful evening!

The next day after I did my laundry and had my last oral exam for Hebrew, we took off on a road trip!  We drove up the coast and stopped in Caesarea (where I put my feet in the Mediterranean Sea -- one to go!).  Dad loved seeing and climbing around on the ancient Roman aqueduct, and Mom had fun taking pictures of the sand and of us!  We finally headed up to Haifa where we spent the night in rooms with gorgeous views of the sea.

The next day we made a quick visit to the Baha'i Gardens, which were as spectacular as everyone told me!  We also headed up to Akko/Acre and wandered the ruins of the crusader city, which my history buff father really loved.  Afterward we drove across to the Galilee to a hotel at a kibbutz where we spent the next two nights.

On Christmas Eve, we went to the surprisingly confusing city of Nazareth!  Navigating it was extremely difficult, but we hit a lot of the sites I had really wanted to visit (and had some tasty falafel to boot!).  We were surprised how many things were closed on Christmas Eve in a city with such Christian history!  We also made a quick stop by the Jordan River on our way back to the hotel and saw a baptism there.

The next day was Christmas!  I was awakened with a couple of presents (although we had agreed to do our main gift exchange on Epiphany in the US) -- a two CD set of Adagios conducted by Leonard Bernstein (swoon!) and a beautiful cross I had admired in Akko.  Then we set off for a drive around most of the Sea of Galilee.  I stuck my feet in the last of the four seas that touches Israel (hurrah!) and visited some of the most famous sites of Jesus' ministry.  My favourite moment was standing next to the Church of the Loaves and Fishes (which was closed on Christmas!) and looking down from where Jesus stood as he preached the Sermon on the Mount, the sun reflecting off the Sea of Galilee.  We had to cut our trip a bit short in order to return our rental car on time, but it was a really lovely adventure to all these places I'd been longing to see!

The next day they headed out on a Green Olive Tour of Bethlehem and Hebron while I went to class.  Womp womp.  But they had a marvelous time, and we had a delicious Italian dinner that night!

The next day we went out to Masada (my third trip there!) which was really fun to visit with my parents.  I gave them a tour as best I could, and then we had a rather crowded bus ride back!  Once again, I headed to class, and they rested in their hotel room until dinner.

On their last day, we wandered the Old City once again, doing the opposite side of the Ramparts Walk than Kat and I had.  From one point, we could see Hebrew U!  We then walked the beginning of the Via Dolorosa, leaving the Old City partway through to grab lunch at my other favourite falafel stands.  I headed out to class while they continued their walk.  I met them for dinner and began an evening of goodbyes.  M&D took off for the US the next morning, and Carolyn was set to leave then as well.  After kissing M&D goodbye at their hotel (to be reunited in just over a week!), I went back to the Kfar for a wonderful last evening with three of my favourite women.

After that my hours were dedicated to writing papers, studying for exams, and getting my fill of all things Israeli before my departure.  This included many hours in Aroma with cappuccinos, hot chocolate, and "orange soup"; a visit to Tmol Shilshom; purchase of Hebrew U swag; and an economy-sized back of sunflower seeds from the shuk.  Two months later, the memory of my experiences and the material goods I've brought back with me connect me to the four incredible, life-changing months I spent there.  Lehitraot, Israel; I promise I'll be back.

What's your story, universe?

Note to my readers:  I have accepted that I'm probably not going to get around to blogging about M&D's visit to Israel anytime soon (pictures on Facebook may be as far as I get, but I promise to try -- if not for you, I want a record of it for myself, because it was a grand adventure!), so I decided I finally ought to post the reflection I wrote back in January.  Enjoy!

As I write this, I am on a plane from Phoenix to Oakland, the second-to-last leg of my long journey from Jerusalem to San Jose.  The whole 32-hour saga includes a 90-minute bus ride from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv; a 12-hour flight from Tel Aviv to Newark; a 5-hour flight from Newark to Phoenix; a 2-hour flight from Phoenix to Oakland; and a 90-minute drive from Oakland to San Jose.  Plus many hours of of waiting around in airports!

A funny thing just happened to me.  As our plane sat in line, waiting for its turn to take off, I suddenly realized what was going on:  I’m not in Israel anymore.  And just like that, I inexplicably burst into tears!  Even now with our plane at cruising altitude, I’ve got a lump in the back of my throat and a serious case of the sniffles.  In the moment that I began to cry, I wasn’t sure why, and why now?  Why not when I said goodbye to Carolyn or Arielle, or when we took off from Israel, or when we landed in the United States?  Was it because after my first trip to Starbucks since I left home in August, I was finally awake enough to grasp the enormity of the situation?  Was it because I was flying solo?  As I have written this, pouring my soul out through my fingertips (and leaking it from my eyes!), the picture slowly became clear—or at least clearer.

I think that when we love, be it a person or a place, we leave little pieces of ourselves behind with them, and bring pieces of them along with us as we continue our life journey.  Depending on the intimacy of that love, the piece may be large or small.  Not only did I leave pieces of myself with the lands and people of Palestine, Israel, Egypt, and Jordan, I left pieces of myself with four extraordinary women who are currently scattered across the globe:  two in Israel, one in Ohio, and one in Washington D.C.  I cried because I honestly have no idea when I will see any of them again—the places or the people.  But I am comforted because I know that my love for them means that I will see them again, be it months or decades from now, and we will reunite the pieces of ourselves that we gave to one another.

So many things about my life have changed in the last four months or so, some obvious and tangible, and some less so.  I know that I have changed enormously, and I can’t even see some of those changes yet—I will come to recognize them as I resume my life in San Jose and at Mount Holyoke.  I can already see that I have new insights, new appetites, new questions, new goals, new friends, new dreams.  I have gained and I have lost.  I am experiencing spiritual growing pains.  I cried because I am not who I was, and I never will be again, and that may mean I lose some things about my old life.  But I am comforted knowing that I have become someone new, someone stronger, and hopefully someone better, and that being this new person will allow me to replace what I’ve lost with something that is a better fit.  (To be honest, I’m a little scared of this new Grace—I think she’s a force to be reckoned with, I’m in for a wild ride with her!)

One of the (remarkably few!) books that I brought with me was a Christmas gift from my parents two years ago, Travel as a Political Act by Rick Steves.  It waited for me on my bookshelf all through the busy semester, and on my flight from Newark today, I finally cracked it open, reading the first chapter and the last chapter, and skimming everything in between.  The first chapter was about how to accomplish travel as a political act.  (I was pleased to see that, even without reading it ahead of time, I did rather well!)  The last was on how to come home again.  The author reminded me that I have changed in more ways than I can see this close to my experience, and that my life at home has continued in my absence and changed too, although only in small ways.  I cried because I am scared that I will not fit anymore.  But I am comforted because I know that I have so much love in my old life, and so while the pieces have changed, the puzzle will solve itself in a new and beautiful way.

This experience wasn’t perfect.  There were days when I curled up in my bed wanted more than anything to come home; there were days when I went miles away from my comfort zone and smiled and laughed until my cheeks hurt.  Mostly there were days that were somewhere in between:  drinking ice-café between classes, walking from campus to my apartment with good company, whining about professors and midterms, having dinner-and-a-movie night with my friends, doing reading and homework while listening to folk music, shopping at the shuk, wandering the Old City of Jerusalem.  I cried because I mourn the loss of the life I built there.  But I am comforted by the thought that I have two other lives waiting for me in the coming weeks, and probably dozens more in my life.

Whether I like it or not, it is time to close this chapter and begin writing the next one.  It is a new calendar year, and it is a new phase of my life.  I do not think I have ever had an experience this life-altering, so I honestly do not know what will fill the blank pages of the next days, weeks, and months.  In some ways I will pick up my old life:  stage managing, singing in Chorale, working toward my teacher licensure.  But I am sure that while there are a few things I do know about the coming months, there are many more that I don’t.  I feel terrified, I feel naked, I feel vulnerable.  But in the last four months, I have been utterly broken and discovered that I have the strength to rise above and come back better and stronger than before.  I also know that I’m not alone; even when I feel broken, I have so much love in my life and so many people to listen to me and help me.  So I am confident that whatever the universe throws at me next, I am ready for it—in fact, I welcome the unknown challenge with open arms.

Well, dear readers, my journey is drawing to a close.  Thank you for your interest, your comments, and your support—they meant the world to me.  Shalom aleichem; salaam wa alaykum; peace be with you <3