Life

As I reflect upon my life the past few months, it's so hard to believe that I haven't stood on American soil in over three months now. This has been the longest I've ever been away from home, or even from America. So much has happened in the past three months, both big events and small. I began graduate school and confirmed the path that I want to follow the rest of my life; I've lived in a foreign non-English speaking country; I've traveled the Middle East, visiting sites that I've studied for the past several years; I've made some of the closet friends I've ever made and who are in my field of study; I've bonded with my professors, both past and present in ways that would intimidate me so much back at the beginning of undergrad; and really, I've gotten to see the world.

I think that my whole life, deep on a fundamental level, I knew (and I think my mom too knew) that I would leave my hometown for good. It all started with baby steps, leaving for Germany with school when I was 14, moving 150 miles away to Ann Arbor for college when I turned 18, spending two months digging in Israel when I was 20, and now moving to Israel for the next year or two. I know that home will always be in Grand Rapids for me, since that's where my whole family is, but it's strange to think that I probably will never live there permanently again. Little Grand Rapids could not contain my hopes and dreams, and although I do not regret growing up in a small town, it is saddening to know that so many never have the opportunity to leave, if only for a bit. 

A part of many people's identity is where they are from and where they've lived. It's one of the first questions you ask someone when you first meet them, "Where are you from?" Especially when abroad, I never know which answer to provide them. On the one hand, I could answer generically with "Artzot Habrit" (which would probably be obvious given my terrible American accent anyway). I could mention "Michigan" to be more specific. Whenever I say that I'm from Michigan, they usually follow up and ask if I live in Detroit. Again, I'm at a loss for an answer. Do I take the time and explain that I grew up in West Michigan but spent the last four years living near Detroit? It all seems overly complicated to explain to someone who's not familiar with American or Michigan geography. And now as much as Grand Rapids and Ann Arbor have become a part of my identity, so now is Tel Aviv. I'm fairly certain that I will not live in Israel forever (it's actually impossible for me to become a citizen here since I'm not Jewish), I do plan on staying here as long as my student visa will permit me. After that is over, I'll just move forward with the next chapter of my life, which will  be a chapter with a new setting.

I could wax eloquent about identity and seeing the world for ages, but I do have other things to update my blog readers on.

First, I (finally) got my visas all in order. The Ministry of the Interior opened promptly at 8am, so at 7:30am, I waited in line to go through security with a long line of other bleary-eyed people, alternating between darting apprehensive looks at the clock and the security guards and rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. I stood there, with my backpack and school things and realized really how fortunate and well-off I am. I really had no worries at all. I was not an immigrant applying for citizenship to the country or asking for permission to work and earn money. I was only there for my student visa. I had no reason to be nervous. I had all my forms filled out (hopefully correctly, but I decided just to feign confidence and pretend as though I was completely confident that I had filled out my forms correctly to expedite the process when I met with the visa officials), my bank statement proving I had sufficient funds to stay in Israel, several papers in both English and Hebrew from school verifying my enrollment, and several passport photos of myself. At 8am, the line for security surged forward and the doors opened. The visa process was relatively painless, and my false confidence and resolute friendliness toward the visa official I think helped the whole process, and I'm sure my greetings in Hebrew were not missed either. I successfully got my visa, and then later when I was looking at it, stuck there in my passport, I realized that it expires like 6 months earlier than I expected. Guess you just can't win them all... (Also, readers, please do not fear, I'm in no danger of being deported from the country.)

Another thing that I've noticed about my life currently is that the novelty of Israel, of living in a foreign country, of being in graduate school, has worn off. My life no longer seems like a vacation. I'm sick of eating hummus and have recently taken to jam, which is a food I wasn't even that attached to when I lived in America. I've also been on a huge sushi kick lately, and my roommate Denize and I found a great place near our apartment that has all our favorites! Shopping in the shuk no longer seems new and exciting, rather it's just the way we buy our groceries. Even going to school has lost some of its novelty. I am still really enjoying my classes of course, but the work is piling up, and the amount of readings and papers we have assigned now is slightly overwhelming and reminds me of my stressful years of undergrad, where it was not uncommon to be working in the library until the early hours of the morning. Israel no longer seems like a vacation; it's just my life now. My life, where I have real responsibilities and obligations from finishing school work to paying bills.

Lately I've taken to walking along the promenade at the beach, since I live so close now. One thing that I miss a lot about America is spending summers at Lake Michigan. I truly live in a gorgeous part of Tel Aviv, and I love where I live so much! To walk along the beach and look out at the Mediterranean Sea is simply amazing. I remember when I first came to Israel in 2010, the Sea amazed and fascinated me so much. I could not wrap my mind around the fact that I was staring at the vast watery expanse that was so central to the Ancient Near East:  the Mesopotamian, Persian, Egyptian, Phoenician, Carthaginian, Iberian, Greek and Byzantine, Roman and Italian, Illyrian, Thracian, Levantine, Gallic,Armenian, Arabic, Berber, Jewish, Aragonese, Slavic and Turkish cultures. It was that moment of realization that I really wished that the sea could tell stories. How much the sea has seen! From great battles to ancient maritime trade to fisherman attempting to make a living. And tonight, as I looked from the sea back towards the blinking lights of central Tel Aviv, towards modernity,  I was struck again with the paradox of such a vibrant modern community in front of me and to my back the ancient sea. I stared back out towards the sea. There were no boats out tonight. I tried to imagine what it was like 3000 years ago and, even with my advanced degrees in the subject, I really could not fathom. But I had my modern responsibilities that I was obliged to, so I once again, turned my back on the sea and trekked back to my little apartment by the beach.

I apologize for the lack of pictures in this blog update, but I haven't been anywhere really new or exciting in the past 10 days since my last blog post. Also, as I reread this blog post, it came out far more philosophical and poetic than was my original intent, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!