Back

We have been back in the states for one week and a day, and I am getting myself re-acclimated. Some things have been very easy to re-adjust to. I have enjoyed using a microwave, cooking with meat and cheese to my heart's content, using my cell phone, driving my car, chit-chatting with the check-out lady at Target (in English!), being at Target, sitting in a private backyard and eating sharp cheddar cheese. I have generally been thrilled by the grocery prices (even with the supposedly high prices this year), the clothing bargains, and the quietness of my in-laws neighborhood. I have eaten mexican food three times (and have gained a good five pounds...can you do that in one week?), and have bought Dead Sea products at Ross for less than five dollars. I have also had the joy of spending a lot of time with my family this past week, which doesnt happen often since we live in California and they all live here in Seattle.

Some signs that we have been out of the country still pop up however...

When asked how much baby Ben weighs, I replied..."11 kilos." Instead of referring to Washington state as the place we are visiting, I keep saying things like "I love this country!" or "this country has great weather!" I am still walking my errands more than I am driving them - it just feels better that way. Ben prefers his stroller (his new one) to the car. When I am shopping I say things like "this dress is only 35 shekels!!" Or "milk in this country is only 8 shekels!!" I am also amazed at how many women have the same hair cut as me...most Muslim and Jewish women in Jerusalem cover their hair so it has been a while since I have seen women's hair styles. I went for a run yesterday morning and I saw a squirel, a raccoon, and a lot of trees - and thought (with mixed lament and boredom)"I am definitely not in Israel anymore."

We are glad to be back in the United States and to enjoy its freedoms. We are glad to be with family and friends. We are enjoying the sunshine that Washington State (ie. "this country") has in abundance this week (totally out of character). We are viewing life through "israel-colored lenses" right now, and noticing the great things as well as the challenges of living here. And of course, we will write our thoughts in the coming weeks as we transition out of "the Jerusalem letters."

We Are Strangers Here Ourselves

Bill Bryson, a “must read” author, writes about his return to America after living in Europe for 20 years and he talks about how he is now a stranger in his own country. We were not gone long enough to be completely out of touch with America or to be completely clueless on what is happening around us but the truth is that in our short time away we lost a piece of our old selves somewhere in the Middle East and we are coming back with new eyes that are gazing on unfamiliar scenes. I have been noticing little things like how Americans smile and say “hi” to each other, how they don’t use their horns when driving, how they will complain about the price of gas but still drive everywhere, and how so few Americans wear head coverings. These are subtle differences but in the spirit of Bill Bryson, I thought I would share occasional “I am a stranger here” moments as they come up. 


Today I had my first “I am a stranger here” moment when I purchased some food with a $20 bill and received two $5 bills as change. I looked at the money and realized that she did not give me the correct change. She must of had some foreign currency in the register because I received some bills that were like nothing I have seen before. She looked at me strange when I explained her mistake and then received the news that our country decided to print new money this year. I have never seen the new $5 bills and did not even know we had plans for them so I was quite happy to look my country’s strange new currency. I was even happier to notice that we are finally adding color to our bills so they are now almost as interesting as some of the other currencies around the world. I was also happy that it did not matter that the Shekel is trading at 3.32 to the dollar.

Re-entering

It has been a week since we posted because we left Israel, spent a few days in the UK (a good in between point from Israel and the USA, and then took a few days to rest, adjust, and unpack our bags that were all tightly packed to 23.5 Kg. We are now on the right time zone and trying to figure out if the past 9 months was just a dream. By looking at the bank account it turns out that it indeed was a reality so we will take a few more days to de-brief and re-enter.

It is Better to Have Loved

I didn't actually want to post today because I like Sara's last post and wanted it to sit in the "first" position a while longer but she reminded me that we are leaving Israel and may not get around to writing for a while.

It is funny how leaving can help clarify feelings towards something. The whole "you don't know what you've got until its gone" scenario plays itself out in all areas of life. Relationships, jobs, strollers (see two posts ago), favorite sweatshirts given away to the Salvation Army (by wives) ... all things that tend to increase in value once they are no longer in our reach. Now that we are in our last week in Israel we are facing the realty that has been on the horizon for quite some time. That reality is the fact that Jerusalem is a special place and we will no longer by caught in the middle of it all. Granted, it is one of the most tightly wound and difficult places to live on this earth, but for the past 3000 years, the eyes of the world have not been able to break free from her allure.
I could talk about the feelings that passed on my final bus ride through the city, or what thoughts I had passing through University security for the final time. I could attempt to explain how beautiful the dome looked tonight as my family gazed upon it for the last time or how great it was today to spend some time with locals in the Old City. But Sara already did that wonderfully in her last post and I would risk giving up my shallow image if I did.
I do want to mention a conversation I had with our oldest son. He tends to be the sentimental one who has a hard time leaving places and saying goodbye. In the course of our conversation we discussed the belief that it is better to experience new things and meet new people than to never experience these things in the first place. I talked about how even in the sadness of leaving them behind we are better for it.
As I reach the end of the time in Israel I had to ask myself if I believed my own words. Is it better "to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all"? I have to answer with a convincing, "maybe". Is it sad to leave? Yes. Will I miss my new friends? Of course. Does the pain leave scars? Probably. But the great thing about scars as they serve as a reminder that something changed.
I guess that is where the value is found. As we go through loss, we feel pain and we are left with scars. Sometimes it is a small pain with a small scar, and sometimes it is noticeable to all and it feels like you can't go on. In this case I think it is in the middle... but it will leave scars that show that we are not the same before this experience. It is late so my ability to communicate is rapidly diminishing so I will leave the "what scars do I have" post for next time, but for now I will pack a few more things, smile at a few more memories, and prepare for the pain that will come as Israel fades in the distance as we fly away on Friday night... and I will hurt for this new love in my life to whom I will bid farewell... and I will be better than I was before I came.

A Walk To Remember

Today Ryan got home in the late afternoon and did a "boy's night" and let me loose to walk the city of Jerusalem one last time. I grabbed my ipod and my purse (hey you never know) and headed out to retrace a route that has become as familiar to me as well...my hometown would be. I walked out of our apartment, down the steps and onto Gidon. I crossed over the train tracks and turned on Emek Refaim. Emek is a chic shopping street in the high end "German Colony" of Jerusalem. It is fun to people watch here- especially on the eve of Shabbat when everyone is racing to pick up their last minute challah from the bakery, good wine from the wine shop, and fresh bouquets for the table. Tonight the cafes were full of patrons eating kosher salads and drinking cappucinos and turkish coffee. Plenty of window shoppers walked the pavement and at this time, the breeze was still warm. I walked down to where Emek meets Derek Bet Lehem and King David Street and turned up King David. I did a quick detour into the (this is original) King David Hotel just to say that I had been inside the building where most US presidents and many world dignitaries have resided over the years. Then I turned down towards the old city - down a hill, then up again. Through a little concrete valley made up of fountains and steps, which ultimately leads to the base of the Jaffa gate entrance to the Old City.

Because it was "Sara night," instead of going through the gate at my right, I headed left, into the newly constructed, modern (and very Irvine Spectrum, California-like) outdoor mall. I gleefully walked from store to store thrilled to be sans children. As I exited the mall, up a steep staircase, I saw the Jaffa gate ahead of me and made a conscious decision not to head into the city tonight. We had been to the city as a family two days prior to say our goodbyes to the vendors we have befriended, and to say our goodbyes to the sights and smells that we have truly grown to love. I turned to walk away and was a little surprised to feel (gasp!) not a tear, but rather a pang. That little ache in my heart caught me off guard. At this point I also realized a song by David Crowder had come into my ear through my ipod earphones. The words "Take my heart, I lay it down At the feet of You who's crowned" are playing while I start to have a little panic attack. We are actually leaving! I cant go for a run and end up at the rock of Golgotha anymore.... I walk towards a cross walk and the "walking green man" immediately replaces the red one signaling me to walk and I think... but I want to stop! I dont know if I am ready to say goodbye... Meanwhile David is singing "Take my life Letting go I lift it up to You who's throned..."

I walk through my favorite park and at this point the sun is beginning to drop low in the sky. The golden hue of the evening sun is gathering in little pools of light under the olive trees. I start to walk up the stairs again, past the fountain, up towards my "thinking spot" under the bouganvilla, and I turn back to glance again at the old city. There is still so much we haven't done in Israel, I think. Ryan and I never came to this park just the two of us, to watch the sun set over Mt. Zion and the road to the Mt. of Olives. We could still get one more meal of our favorite arab salads and grilled meats. We could still spend more time in the West Bank with the orphans there, or in the refugee camps. I wont be getting good Israeli coffee with my favorite Jewish friend again to discuss theology and matters of the heart.

"Take my fret, take my fear All I have I'm leaving here Be all my hopes, be all my dreams You're my delights Be my everything (I have also during this walk put David Crowder on repeat mode...I figure the song is the perfect way to just swim in my emotional outpouring)."

David faithfully (he cannot say no to the ipod repeat button) croons out to God "And I will worship You, Lord Only You, Lord And I will, I will bow down before You Only You, Lord." And I actually laugh. Not because I think that worship of God is funny, but because I realize that God has done a funny thing in me this year. You see, there is this movie that I love called "A walk to Remember" about a pastors daughter and a "bad boy rebel cool kid." In the movie you figure the two will get together, but you think that eventually the girl will start to at least dress a little cuter or start acting a little "cooler" but she never does. The "cool kid" does fall in love with her and it is because he is changed by her inward qualities and I believe God in her.

Jerusalem has most definitely not changed this year but somehow I have. I have genuinely come to love Israel, and not because of its outward appeal. I love Israel because GOD HAS BEEN HERE with us this year...in the same way that He was with us in California, the same way that He will be with us wherever we are. I have cried out to God many times on the streets and alleyways of Jerusalem and He has answered me and embraced me. Despite the constant struggles (which I might add I have not been shy to blog about), God has faithfully, and lovingly kept my head up - even if barely enough...

I walk past the lion fountain and praise God for this year. I genuinely (yes, genuinely!) thank Him for our time here. I am excited because I know that He will be with us even next year as we enter into newer (and I think scarier) ventures in life. I can be moved to tears by the living, pulsing heart of God in Jerusalem. It's okay because it beats in California as well. And all the world! And my heart skips a beat as I walk through a crowd of some out of town, camera toting tourists, elegantly dressed muslim women with their children, a young Jewish couple with heads bent towards one another, and I hear David singing in my ear a love song to God, that I too am singing at this point "And it's just You and me here now -Only You and me here now- You should see the view When it's only You."

Farewell, Sweet Stroller

Okay so I have a melancholy, cheesy and overly nostalgic side to me....if you have been reading our blog and haven't figured that out...well I would be surprised. If you are aware of this fact, you will understand that I am a little bit (okay overly) sad about the fact that we have just sold baby Ben's stroller. We had not planned on selling it, but we did need to sell our car seat so we wouldnt have to take it back to the States with us. We had such a hard time selling the car seat without the stroller that we finally gave in and sold the entire set. (I am pretty sure most readers at this point have either stopped reading this or have glazed over looks in their eyes). Let me explain my melancholy and my slightly unhealthy attachment to the stroller now...

Last year, at my baby shower for Ben, my dear friends gave me a Graco Travel system - a car seat and stroller combo. We brought our newborn baby home in that car seat after he had spent 3 weeks in NICU. Then I proceeded to walk that baby around the lake near our house in that stroller. We then uprooted the stroller from Mission Viejo and took it on a drive up the coast to Washington State, where it transported our baby around to homes of grandparents, around Seattle, and along the Puget Sound. Next we put the stroller on a plane to London, where it carried a sleeping baby (confused by the time change) around the city to see cool things like Big Ben, the Parliament Building, statues of nursing mothers (or was that me?), Westminster, Windsor Castle and more. This stroller is a serious trooper.

After London, we put the stroller back on the plane where of course it had to be crammed under the plane with all the other oversized luggage. It was most likely man-handled more than usual since it was on its way to the security sensitive country of Israel. Here in Israel, the stroller has received more abuse than most strollers will ever see in 10 years of life. It has bumped and jolted down the cobbled streets of the Old City, it has jockeyed for space in the crowded streets of the main "souk" or middle eastern market. It has gone to and from the grocery store about 4000 times (give or take) - with it's basket filled to capacity with heavy loads of canned goods, pita, and hummos. Of course it has carried a baby this entire time as well. Jerusalem is a city on a hill, and this stroller has seen its fair share of hills and endlessly long staircases. It has been locked up outside of our apartment every night for 8 months - gathering dust, collecting the boys rocks and pottery, and even being a nighttime rest area for a local cat(not Jack).

This stroller has been dragged all over Israel, through London and also to Jordan. It didn't even complain when we left it at home in favor of a smaller umbrella stroller for Egypt and Greece.

This stroller has fearlessly, generously, and comfortably been a resting place for our baby in his first year of life (the baby, not the stroller). In the midst of a fairly "unsteady" year of activity, the stroller has stuck it out and provided some security. This past week, the stroller was the seat baby Ben sat in whilst he opened his first ever 1 year birthday present. It is a fixture in many of our families most poignant photos of this year.

All that said, it will be sad to leave the stroller behind. It represents a year which we are also preparing to leave behind, and with all the bumps, all the uphill climbs, twists and turns, this has been a year to remember. So I wish our stroller, and this extraordinary year adieu.

Happy Birthday

Our baby turns 1 year old today.
By age 1 he has been to 6 countries on 4 different continents. He has seen 3 wonders of the ancient world, celebrated Christmas in Bethlehem and Easter in Jerusalem. He has lived in a hospital, an apartment, and a house. He has been in ancient castles, tombs, and temples and he has been to the Pacific Ocean, Medaterranean Sea, and the Red Sea. He speaks English, Spanish, and Hebrew (although they all sound pretty much the same).
He is currently working on his "to do list" for next year so we are excited to see what this year will bring.

Fantasy Fulfilled

Ryan and I give each other permission to include a little fantasy in our marriage. For instance, Ryan has an ongoing fantasy of playing for the Boston Red Sox, and I am okay with that. Whenever we go to Spring Training games in Arizona, Ryan lets his imagination go and by the time we leave he has planned out his career from playing on a "farm team" and then of course being picked up in draft by his favorite team. My fantasy life is fed mostly by visits to museums (at least this was before this year). When Ryan and I go to a museum, we always split up. He goes to indulge his artsy side and strolls the art galleries (all but Italian/Rennaisance art - he doesnt like pasty chubby white people...at least not in art). I on the other hand head straight to the artifacts. The Egyptian rooms, the pirate treasure rooms, room after room of little pieces of pottery, coins, ancient cooking tools, and fragments of 2000 year old sandals. By the time we meet up again, I have let MY imagination go and I am well on my way to going back to school to fulfill a childhood dream of being an archeologist (it was either that or a national geographic photographer in a Jeep). The thought of uncovering something for the first time that was once used by fellow, yet ancient humanity gets my adrenaline up even more than a good five mile run. I love to people watch and to analyze human behavior, and archeology is that at its most glamorous.

The dirt, the heat, the monotony of dusting off layer after layer of ancient ground in the hopes of finding that singular treasure holds more appeal to me than almost anything. I love and appreciate the cultures and people who laid the foundations for life as we know it today. I also love the people who did nothing to lay foundations today but who instead charted a course that was so unique that its culture had seemed to freeze in time... Thanks to my dad, who instilled in me at a young age a childlike wonder for adventure and discovery, this is who I am today. I am no less interested in pirate treasure and Indian artifacts today as I was as a 10 year old digging up my mothers vegetable garden (much to her dismay).

Yesterday, our family went to the Ashkelon National Park - on the coast of the Mediterranean and just barely north of Gaza. There a friend of ours from Jerusalem is heading up a dig there. A REAL dig. In Jerusalem you are able to pay as a tourist and sift dirt for a few hours to say that you were an archeologist. But this is a new site, an active site. When we arrived, we were greeted with the sight of a couple dozen archeologists and archeology college students, scattered across the area. Covered in dust, wielding trowels and brushes as well as the very non-Indiana Jones lap tops and laser mapping tools. They had bandanas on their heads and sweat on their brow.... My heart is skipping at this point. We were shown around the site and explained it was at two levels - an iron age dig higher up had unearthed a Philistine (think David and Goliath) home and some wells and graves. At the lower level was a bronze age dig from the Canaanite period (BEFORE the Israelites had formed a nation). Up to this point they had found plenty of bones and pottery, bricks and buildings, gravesites and bodies...some little trinkets like beads, Egyptian scarobs, and just that morning had found a little shiny stone piece used for sewing (dont ask me the technical term I cannot sew!). Up above the site in the walls were ancient water systems and even entire Roman pillars jutting out of the dirt, from other, more recent (yet ancient) eras.

Our 8 year old had come prepared with his Indiana Jones hat and his book on ancient hyroglyphics - he is teaching himself the language and was promptly put to work in one of the deep holes in the Canaanite dig. Our five year old was given a short job so he could say he did something. Ryan and Ben walked around trying to blend in while taking our shameless tourist pictures and pretending that it is perfectly NORMAL for a one year old to be at an active dig site. I was placed in the Philistine home, where I helped to scrape and dust a layer of ground for two hours. I was covered head to toe in dust and carefully picked at the ground, pulling out pieces of pottery covered in black soot (we had uncovered a hearth in the home) and bones (probably from a family meal...or maybe the family). I listened to the archeologists use lingo like "floating" and "mud bricks" and happily pretended like I was one of them. I took every first and fifth bucket of dirt over to the sifting area, and carefully placed my bones into the labeled "bone bag." Archeology is definitely just as glamorous as I always thought it would be. With a good imagination and a love for the great thread of mankind throughout history, how can it not be?? So with all of its ugly warts and trying days, I will always be thankful to Israel for providing me a little bit of fulfilled fantasy. Who knows? Maybe one day I will be back - when Ryan is busy playing for the Red Sox and I am in need of a good diversion.

Israelitis

This is the time of year when seniors in high school have full blown cases of "Senioritis" which means they are so close to the end that they pretty much check out of everything and just wait to be done. I developed my senioritis when I was in my sophomore year of High School and I just couldn't find a cure the final three years.

Now that our time here in Israel is coming to a close I am coming down with "Israelitis". The classic case of Israelitis is when you just want to sit on the beach, eat pepperoni pizza, drive your car on the Sabbath, get smiled at from a cashier, not have any old ladies push you while getting on the bus, eat Mexican food, see people pick up their own trash, or not have other countries say they wish for your total destruction.
I really am happy for the experiences and the education we have received here but I have no more capacity for "cultural enrichment". I am no longer happy to experience the burden of the "law" in keeping a kosher kitchen or no "new work" on the Sabbath. I don't really need to gain any more confusion over the Israeli- Palestinian conflict. I even have had my fill of falafels and various foods stuffed into pita (kebabs and babagnoush being the exceptions). I think I would even enjoy having a conversation with someone without having it turn to politics or religion (which are synonymous here).

In order to treat my Israelitis we rented a car for the weekend. This will allow us to 1), fulfill one final request of my wife which is to work on an archaeological site in Ashkelon, and 2), to head to the beach on the Mediterranean Sea. I'm not sure how this will really treat the Israelitis other than by changing the scenery a bit in an effort to pass the time and by working on my golden brown skin tones. Sure I could finish all of my papers for class and I could seek out some final Middle East experiences but that doesn't measure up to the warm blue waters of the Sea. I am sure that it wont be long after we return to the U.S. when we will long for some excitement and some break from the typically monotonous life of America, but at least we will have our Mountain Dew and pizza.

No Trademark Violations Here

Yesterday I went with some friends to the Palestinian Authority's capital, Ramallah. We had some cheap falafels, brought home very cheap fruit from the market there, enjoyed some 2 shekel arabic coffee, and even passed by this Stars -n- Bucks Coffee house. It is a bit like the "Mac Donald's" with the yellow arches in the movie "Coming to America". The difference is that I don' think Starbucks will come to Ramallah and try to take legal action.
By the way, for some reason I feel more safe in Ramallah than in some neighborhoods here in Jerusalem.