Changes

I apologize, it has been a month since I last posted, and I have already been home for a week. Yeah, I'm really sorry about not being more faithful in posting. I am home, but I think that this journey is still going on. My mindset has changed. Israel changed me. Israel is changing me. As in still, continually.

My first night home, I realized how much I had changed.

We sat down at the table, eating pie leftovers, for it was Thanksgiving, while I told stories. I tried to emphasize how much I loved the land of Israel, and how perfectly it fit the idea of the promised land. But my love for the land fell on deaf ears. They didn't "get" it. I was trying to explain it, and my explanations were not enough.

I love the land. I love every bit of dust and stone that I stepped on. I love Cenomanian limestone the best - it's so beautiful and strong. So firm. I love Senonian chalk that makes up the Judean Wilderness. It gets over everything, and you can't grow stuff well in it, but I miss it. And Eocene chalk - that gets over everything, worse than Senonian to some extents. And basalt hurts your feet and makes your feet turn black, but it's so strong and lightweight.

I love the dry season which shifts slowly into rainy. I love how excited I got when it did rain for those brief moments maybe once every two or three weeks, for maybe five minutes. I love the yellow grass and the gorgeous sunsets streaming through the grass. I love the cactus which line the roads sometimes. I love those little prickly plants which kinda hurt when walking through them in Chacos.

I love the quiet springs, and the noisy springs too. Cisterns, eh, not so fond of 'cause I've been in a pretty gross one before, but the concept of saving water is beautiful. Springs are my favorite though. The water is so clear and fresh and delicious.

But even where there isn't water, I love. I love the olive trees on the side of the road. I love walking under the grapevines. I love needing a chair to pluck a ripe pomegranate from the trees. And I loved those pomegranates. So ripe and delicious.

I miss the food there. I was always picking out mushrooms out of one dish or another, but I miss the funky pizza we had. I miss the rich flavors, and I miss the overwhelming of the senses at the Shuk.

The land changed me. Is changing me. And I was reminded of this just a little bit earlier, when I was doing some research for a paper on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and came across a manuscript of an interview. The man being interviewed had just been to Israel, and I found myself smiling at the things he spoke about seeing. And I still had to laugh a bit, for even though he had the experience of being in Israel, and staying in Bethlehem, I knew something from living there for three months, that he did not after being there for far less time. Not to mention that I have been around other people who have lived in Israel for YEARS and who imparted their knowledge on me and the other students.

For sure, a native Israeli will know FAR more than I do, and could ever hope to. Even a lady I know who lived there four years, she belongs to the land more than I do.

Still, not many people have lived in Israel for three months. And even fewer lived with me those three months.

I miss them. I left a bit of my heart with them. But in the same way, I think I have a bit of theirs as well.

People here don't understand. Some of them want to, and can't, and others simply cannot. Some are closed off to understanding. It's a risk when you go abroad. People here are comfortable. They aren't comfortable having their world shaken up, but that's exactly what you have gone through. Your world is different now. You view the world in a different way. And you cannot force people to understand it.

I'm still being changed by Israel. That's just a fact about it. The land changes you. And there's nothing you can do to avoid it, even if you wanted to.