“Memoirs of Israel”
Twenty four Sundays. Six perfect months. Originally, I had thought it would be 5.5 months. But, then after counting the number of Sundays, it didn’t make any sense.
You are probably thinking I’m some kind of nut for even considering exactly how long I stayed there. But you see, there’s a reason. Every single day, minute, and second, Israel has created every fabric of experience I could ever have dreamed of. Consequently, it is imperative that I know exactly how long I was there. From staying with four different families, giving major presentations in different parts of Israel for audiences of kindergarten and members of Knesset, from establishing close working relationships with my co-workers, developing life-long friendships with deaf Israelis, to being a visitor in a foreign country for half a year…whew! So who’d blame me for being detailed about this time of my life, this length of my stay?
FLIGHT BACK Conversed with an attendant who knew ASL and introduced me to the entire crew. My first interaction with Americans and I hadn’t even arrived in New York yet! Thoughts were racing in my head. After one of the most difficult tasks I ever had to do in my life — saying goodbye to everybody in Israel — I knew I would come back a changed person. Here’s a quote I got from “Under the Tuscan Sun” by Frances Mayes: “It is hard to chart such changes of one’s own in response to a new place, but shifts are easy to spot in another person.”
By those terms, when I returned to the States, I was startled to find how many of people I’ve stayed in touch with remain the same. A lot can happen in half a year. And yet, I’ve also seen friends who’ve just left me completely stunned. While aware of the obvious cultural differences, starting a new job and seeing my family again, I was able to appreciate new changes and sights. In midst of all dizzy traveling in the States-9 cities in 3 weeks, I had moments to reflect.
Like: Gosh, just the other day, I took an 11pm dive into the Kinneret with my friend, glorious stars in the sky. Found stars shaped like the country of Chile perfectly.” Or: “One week ago, eating falafel with tahini sauce dripping on my chin.” Yes, waves of nostalgia, like waves from the Mediterranean turning into waves off the Pacific. In essence, I left a part of me there, as I try to begin anew here.
In the States, basically, everything is bigger. Cars are bigger. License plates are fatter. Americans are HUGE. With all the Super Size specials, 40% free Big Size bag of Ruffles, elephantine hot cakes at coffee shops, bagels spread with loads of cream cheese(though “bagels” are bigger in Jerusalem), gallons of alcohol consumed daily, I ain’t surprised. Everything here is so accessibly easy in terms of food, technology, transportation, and information. I had forgotten the overwhelming amount of fast food establishments, restaurants, cafes, bars, and coffeehouses. Eating out is incredibly expensive in Israel, though of course food is consumed in great quantities there too. But, it is how it’s being consumed that counts. Israelis are notorious for being gourmets and gourmands. But, the way they eat, it is as if time does not exist, it is of no essence. They just eat, talk, drink, eat, talk, drink, and then eat, talk, and talk some more. Here there are plenty of great cheap eateries,but nowadays, so many of us eat on the run. I didn’t see a single “drive-thru” in Israel.
Americans though are by many times over, much more friendly and approachable than Israelis. I was in a store in New York and in less than five minutes, I was asked by a salesperson, ” May I help you with anything?” about twenty times. I nearly lost my head. Don’t get me wrong, I was like that too. Being overly-conscientious about certain elements of life. No one pushes me while waiting in the exactly linear-style line. There is no such thing as a “linear” line in Israel. People do say, “Excuse me,” while they’re intentionally or unintentionally pushing you out of the way. I was chatting with a friend here, while accidentally bumping into a stranger walking by. It didn’t occur to me anymore to say, “Oops! Sorry about that.” I just continued to walk. My friend stopped and politely yelled, “SORRY!” Oops. When people drive here, they actually use their blinkers to signal. Amazing! Courteous! I must remember to do that….
Handing over some grub, the cashier actually said, “Thank you.” Oh that’s right, I should smile. In restaurants, they actually give you the check without your asking for it. The waiter will come by your table fifteen times asking if everything’s okay. As if being table campers is a crime here. Yeah, I should remember to order that glass of water and leave me alone.
Of course, there will be some cashiers that won’t say thank you, drivers that don’t signal, people pushing people without saying, “Excuse me” and customers left unattended. if.. (Those restaurants remaining nameless for now!) But, generally, I was overwhelmed with how friendly Americans are. They actually show their teeth more. Of course, it’s a known fact that Americans have the best dental care in the world….
I miss the hospitality of Israelis. Offers of tea and coffee are few and far between over here. Hugging and kissing one cheek to the next is not an ordinary sight here. Hands gesturing everywhere. For that, I’d have to take a walk around Little Italy in NYC. People drink more here. Alcohol, alcohol, and alcohol. And there’s more emphasis on socializing rather than personalizing.
All in all, it’s great being back. I feel and know I did not come back more religious, but with a great deal more understanding and respect for Judaism. Israel will have more than a special place in my life. It left its footprint on my heart.
Upon my return here, I had great people on the welcome committee. For those reading this, thanks for making me feel at home once more!
Liz Stone can be contacted at this e-mail, [email protected].
