Coming back from Israel is always bittersweet.
I love returning to my family. I can't wait to see and hold each of them. I am glad to return, to be here where (most....) of my family is.
But it is always jarring to me to hear English all around. To see signs in English and not Hebrew. To look around and feel reasonably sure that I'm back in the minority. To see children in baseball caps instead of kippot. To not feel a compulsion to give any young soldier a motherly kiss on the forehead (not that I saw so many soldiers in O'Hare, though). Coming back from Israel...even though this is definitely my home, I always have a hard time saying that I'm going home when I leave Israel. A piece of me is always there, my home away from home, my heart-land.
"Wherever I go, I am going to the land of Israel." (Rebbe Nachman)
I love introducing people to this land I love so much. To see through their eyes the sights and sounds and smells, to taste anew each visit the felafel, halva, even bamba (which I'm not such a fan of, sorry Israeli friends)...as I pointed out to our group, even Coke tastes different here. The very air is different.
And I can't wait to go back.
(More Israel posts coming up with pictures and stories....stay tuned! Same blogtime, same blogchannel!)
This is an archive of all my posts from 2005-2013. For current writings, please visit imabima.blogspot.com
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Returning...
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