In my head I keep recounting all the reasons why I loved Israel. I start to writing about Haifa or Jaffa or the Dead Sea but stop myself short every time. It’s been difficult to mold it into words when it’s still stuck in my chest as a feeling. Even the things I didn’t like over there have an odd little home in heart.

At first I couldn’t stand the tiny little shops in a big major city like Tel Aviv. I felt claustrophobic and tense with people inside my personal space. Some of the stores were literally full with only 5 people in them. And I think that may be part of the reason I did little to no shopping while I was there. I’m not sure if it’s the American in me, but I just hate being crowded. Hate it. Hate it.

But after I got used to seeing the rows of shops on the streets, I started to admire them. It was vastly diverse in that I could be standing in front of a shoe store and then 3 steps later be looking in on a Japanese restaurant. I thought to myself that this place must be fantastic for a power shopper.

Even though nearly everything was translated into english on all street signs, shops, and menus, I still felt incredibly out of place at times. Something as simple as opening a door even became a challenge! The one sign never translated over there was whether to “push” or “pull” a door open. I swear that I’ll never laugh at someone again who gets this wrong because now I know how it feels. And I tried to comfort myself by saying I had a 50/50 chance of getting it right… to no avail. I went into a Pizza Hut (yes, they have all our crappy fast food places there too) to get Einat a slice of pizza one night. Of course the sign on the door was in Hebrew so I rolled the dice and pulled on the door. I thought I nearly took out my arm socket with as much as the door withstood my pull. My body lurched and I tried to recover before anyone could see me pulling on the door the wrong way. But inside I could see the employees behind the counter laugh as I turned a beet red. Damn sign! I was completely illiterate.

It was a little challenging at times but I absolutely loved it. It felt good to get out of my little comfort zone back in the States. When I arrived home, everything felt very gray because I could instantly understand everything around me and nothing was unexpected. I went from my mind firing neurons like an overachiever to oil drenched cells straining to have a semi-cognative thought. It was two weeks in blinding curiosity and then back to the lethargy of an Illinois winter.

Even though my body has been back for a week now, I’m still trying to get my mind out of Israel and back home. Reality sure is a bitch.

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