I’ve always known I was going to love Israel. I knew it right from age 12 when I heard those wives tales that everyone tells about Israel with great big stars in their eyes.Then I got here. At 18, for the first time everr. Everything I see, I’m seeing it for the first time, everything I hear, I’ve heard in those accounts, but now they come alive. The ambiance is nothing like I could have ever imagined. And like I’ve always known, I've fallen in love.
Course, there are some things about Israel and Israelis that aren’t so awesome. Like the ongoing BO issue circulating some of these natives, the sleazy come-ons that make you need to shower asap, or the fact that they all totally rip off anyone with a faint American accent. Oh its not pronounced ‘shekels‘? How do you say shekels in plural then!? Huh?
But then there’s this whole other side. This crazy, amazing, chaotic, spiritually trippy, incredible other side. I live in the heart of Jerusalem and every time I think about it, it blows me away. The city beats to this vibrant, electrifying vibe. It doesn't feel real.
I stand on the balcony above the kotel, the wind whipping my hair all around, absolutely mesmerized by the lone wall that remained from the holiest place on earth. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s mind blowing.
Ordinarily, I mock people who have spiritual visions, women who hear G-d, and men who see Him in the oddest of places. And then there’s here. When I find myself nodding along to tales of the revelation of G-d, and the cynicism in me is but a whisper. Okay, so I haven’t seen Him yet, but its hard not to feel Him when I walk the same streets that Abraham did. When I stand in the same spot as Yaakov I can feel the stories I’ve heard as a child beating in my chest. It’s wild.
Then there’s the people. And as obnoxious as they can be, there’s something you have to love about them.
I love that they’ll ask you to marry them before they ask for your first name. Well, okay, I don’t love it. Fine, maybe just little bit. Then not so much. At first I was totally smitten. That was until I realized they were completely enamored by my ability to get them a Green Card, not my big green eyes.
I love that they all tell you the same thing, “It’s 150 shek, but for youuuuu 130.” Makes me smile every time because its so classic. Even we all know they say the same thing to every doe eyed girl that walks in, and maybe even a few doe eyed boys.
I love that they all give the same directions that get you either absolutely no where, or coincidentally, right in front of their apartment.
“Oh I live here? Oh, nachon, I do. You want come in for chasish-laced hookah and be my girlfriend?”
I love that if you’re from America you must live next door to Miley Cyrus and a Visa with your name equals ridiculous wealth.
I absolutely love Shabbat in the Old City. I love the man who invites people to his meal by yelling out the window. And I love the people he invites in. Especially the dude clad in a full fledged Shabbat dress.
I love that when I say its my first time in Israel they all cry, “welcome home!”
I love that Chabad girls get more to drink at Shabbat tables than the others.
I love the quiet calm of Tzfat. And the mystical quality you can chose to let in or not.
I love the air of Chevron. I love the paradox of feeling dangerous and safe at the same time. I love the Israel paradox in general. The unparalleled feeling of godliness combined with the most exhilarating feeling of being in the most amazing country in the world!
I love the awesomest girls I came with and met.
I heart Israel the mosttttttest.
