But when the restraining influence of the school was at a distance I began to hunger again for wild sensations, for the escape which those chronicles of disorder alone seemed to offer me. The mimic warfare of the evening became at last as wearisome to me as the routine of school in the morning because I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

James Joyce, “An Encounter”

I’M 28!

WHAT THE FUCK!

Such an ugly number.

The only memory I have of the movie Donnie Darko is Drew Barrymore running outside to a secluded spot to scream FUCK.

I wonder why this particular moment stuck with me.

(Probably because I made a gif of it during my Tumblr era in high school.)

I almost want to follow her example, but then again, I am celebrating my birthday IN JAPAN!

And I may have splurged a little. I’m staying at a ryokan with the highest elevation (and highest open-air onsen) in Hokkaido. At 1,280 meters, it stands alone on a mountain in Daisetsu-zan National Park, surrounded by snow and quiet.

God.

My original plan was to stay at a very special ryokan in Tohoku, just as isolated and snowy, but more intimate and rustic. For some cosmic reason, it had to be closed on my birthday. So I booked it for a few days from now instead.

Then, I tried to make my “Cameron Diaz retreating to Kate Winslet’s fairy-tale rustic cottage from The Holiday at the height of winter and her personal life falling apart for some peace and quiet (and discovering along the way she is capable of crying by falling in love)” fantasy come true, yet options for 1 person without a car were scarce. So I settled on where I am now. Which turned out not to be a settlement after all. I got my wish – to be in the middle of nowhere. And, on top of that, something unexpected happened to me this morning.

But first, a rundown of the last few days.

13 February 2023

• Morning: driving around Utoro and train from Shiretoko Shari to Kawayu Onsen
• Lunch: quick bite at the Mount Io-zan visitor center
• Afternoon: wanted to visit Lake Kussharo, ended up just walking and walking and asking for help, visited a local hotel’s onsen, and had a quick bite at a café
• Dinner: at the inn

Farewell to Utoro

Today started off pretty well but got progressively lame, compared to yesterday (the drift ice walk).

Begrudgingly, I checked out of the amazing hotel I was staying at. Utoro is an insanely beautiful small town off the shore of the Sea of Okhotsk. I adore all this snow and drift ice and waterfalls and forests. The traditional Japanese room I got, with its view and traditional Japanese dinner and breakfast, was superb.

I left Sapporo with a taste for more, too – one more day just for enjoying the city and maybe running a few more errands would’ve been nice – but left Utoro feeling way sadder. I would’ve spent 3 days here easily. I want to return here every winter.

I was gonna take the 9:30 bus to Shiretoko Shari, but I met a nice Japanese man from Osaka who comes to this hotel every year and knows his way around the area. He gave me a ride and we stopped at several scenic spots along the way, which I couldn’t have done without a car. Then I boarded the train at 11:10 and got off at 12:00. I forgot my watch in the night bus, but the hotel helped arrange for me to pick it up at the station.

Utoro to Kawayu Onsen / ??????????? pic.twitter.com/xOvg6GJFQb

— Kesem (@kesemsan) February 13, 2023

Kawayu Onsen

Next, Kawayu Onsen: the tiniest of small towns. There’s the station (with a free foot bath room!), two restaurants I think, and farms. Oh, and snow. More than in Sapporo or Utoro.

I carried all three bags to the inn I’d booked and took the wrong turn. Decided to cut corners by trudging through a non-paved road. I saw some footprints there, and figured it was walkable.

It was not.

I took a few steps. My feet sunk so deep into snow, that it reached my knees. Then I saw that the footprints were not a human’s, but a deer’s. A few of them scurried nearby. I continued trudging until it was over and collapsed on the road. My butt froze on the ground. Finally, I made it to the inn.

Immediately it was clear that I shouldn’t have come here without a car. I figured this might happen when I planned this day. I figured I’d just wing it and be spontaneous.

Mistake.

I mean, I’ll do that in the big cities, but in a tiny town covered in snow? What is a solo traveler without a car to do?

I went back to the station area because I was starving. The only restaurant was packed with Taiwanese tourists. They had no room for me.

Mt Io-zan

I knew my next stop – Mount Io-zan – was a 20m walk. I was so tired and hungry that I couldn’t bear to do it. Luckily, a Japanese family I ran into in the street gave me a ride.

I probably used the phrase “??????????????” a dozen times today. (“I’m in trouble, having difficulty, inconvenienced”) the Japanese family was super nice and helpful. Others, not so much. Maybe they’re not used to seeing foreigners, and worry I have COVID.

Anyway, I reached Mount Io-zan and thank god I wear a mask all the time here, because sulphur is SMELLY. But it was very beautiful to see.

The real problems began after this. I couldn’t hitchhike to Lake Kussharo, my next stop. So I started walking there – half an hour or so. Then I reached another tiny town. Streets were empty. You’re on your own.

I visited two tourist centers and realised “no car” means “no sightseeing” here. So I didn’t get to see the lake and its famous outdoor hot spring baths.

I had to book a bus for tomorrow morning at a nearby hotel and had plenty of time to kill until checking in at 18:00, so I paid for entry into the hotel’s onsen. It was great and very sulphuric (and scalding hot), but yesterday’s was better, being outside. I was also a bit salty about settling on this instead of Kussharo’s rotenburos.

Then I got hungry and looked for a place to eat. I figured a local restaurant would have some nice traditional food.

They were all closed. Turns out Monday is a day of rest here.

Then I realised I’d forgotten my valuables at the hotel. I returned to retrieve them, but forgot my watch again. The hotel staff hurried after me. Maybe the universe is telling me this 8-year-old watch needs to go.

I took the bus back to the station and found a small café, and now I’m writing all this. It’s 17:21, so I’ve still got some time.

I just knew that without a car I’d be screwed, and I was right. Hopefully I’ll meet some travelers at the inn tonight.

Tomorrow should be loads better. The visitor center told me there’s a bus to Lake Akan, which the internet mentioned nothing about. This solves a big conundrum I had. I guess some things can’t be researched online; you only find out about them once you’re there.

Kawayu Onsen ???? pic.twitter.com/ujgTkJLvrA

— Kesem (@kesemsan) February 15, 2023

A Wild Dinner

So the inn I’d booked turned out to be tiny. It was just me and 1 other person. One of those traditional Japanese houses where the rooms all have tatami and the walls are paper thin and the door is a sliding one you can’t lock. I have to duck every time I enter a room. This place probably has like a thousand manga on shelves. The tap water is underground mountain water, which apparently is very good quality.

Things picked up at dinner – the owners, one other guest, and me. Everything was freshly grilled and delicious. The owners kept piling up food on my plate. We sat together for almost 3 hours and went through so many topics; so far people in Hokkaido were astounded to hear I’d come all the way from Israel, and that I can sort of make conversation with them. The owners were especially interested in hearing about my itinerary. I keep getting told by Japanese people that I know about Japan more than they do, which is funny because tourists who come to Israel probably see more of it than I ever did, so I guess it’s kind of the same here.

The owners kept taking photos and at some point I gave them a bag of Bamba I still had in my bag (Israel’s most famous and delicious snack). We got around to talking about food, nutrition, and health, because I told them I don’t eat meat, don’t drink coffee, rarely drink alcohol, etc. and the owner brought a blood pressure device and dared me to use it.

We were all kind of surprised by the result, and took turns using it.

Final thought: apparently if you break your ankle in Japan you spend a month at the hospital until you make full recovery? No crutches when you return home. This took me by surprise.

I guess this dinner counts as today’s highlight. The meals I’ve had so far with people, whether Japanese or tourists, have been enjoyable.

Stray observations:

• Sleeping on a futon felt great. Cool and comfy. Only weird thing was the pillow once again being stuffed with some kind of… grains? It wasn’t soft at all, but it didn’t bother me. What did bother me was that once again, the futon was short for me. My feet stuck out. It wasn’t so bad, since I like sleeping diagonally, but I guess this is the standard size of futons in Japan.
• Turns out Japanese people really do leave the engine on when making a quick stop at the konbini. I guess there’s no crime here.
• It was interesting to see how, if you park your car outdoors, you must clean it before driving. Snow really piles up. This never occurred to me.
• I’ve been really lucky with the weather so far, considering two weeks ago was the worst snowstorm in a decade, with flights and trains being cancelled and sightseeing becoming impossible. Every day has been amazing so far.
• The cold weather here is actually… not so cold? I remember freezing my ass off in -2 degrees in the UK. Wearing three layers and shivering nonstop. Here it’s been between minus 5-10 or so thus far and I’m wearing only one shirt and a coat. I spoke to an Irish tourist who agreed it felt like a different kind of cold. Doesn’t really get into your bones. I don’t know. Maybe the Japanese weather just agrees with me.

14 February 2023

• 8:30-10:00: bus to Lake Akan
• Lunch: traditional Ainu food @ Poronno
• Afternoon: Ainu Kotan village, lots of tiny shops; snowmobiling on the frozen lake; stopping by a tofu shop; and visting a rotenburo for the third day in a row.
• Evening: fireworks show.

Farewell to Kawayu Onsen

Today came very close to the fun I’ve had 2 days ago.

Like yesterday morning, I also got a ride from another guest at the place I was staying. I found out during dinner that making it to the bus stop the next morning would be impossible. The town of Kawayu Onsen is divided into two tiny halves – near the station and near the Onsen. There is nothing to do near the station. Buses are very infrequent. To take the bus to Lake Akan, I had to return to the onsen area, but there wasn’t a bus this early in the morning. Moreover, the only taxi office in town has… no cars… you can’t just show up and hop on a cab, you need to book it enough time in advance. I guess this is “tiny countryside town” mentality for you.

During dinner, the owners dared me to try rice mixed with soy sauce and raw egg, which startled me at first but turned out to be quite good. Then this morning they encouraged me to try nattou (fermented soybeans). I don’t think I’ll eat it again.

The guest kindly offered to take me to the station and rescue me from wasting a day on transportation. This gave me enough time to properly explore Lake Akan without being in a rush.

I checked out and hopped into the guest’s car, the owner again taking pictures all the while. Then the car engine wouldn’t start.

I saw myself missing the bus I’d booked and once again wasting a day just because I didn’t have a car. A few minutes, the engine obliged.

My rescuer dropped me off at the hotel from yesterday, where the bus departed. Staying there was a bit more expensive than my inn, but I could’ve seen the lake if I had.

Bit weird that the bus I took was reservation only (at least 3 days in advance). It was just me and three Japanese women. The hotel called the bus company last night and made a special request to “save” me a seat.

Lake Akan

The bus ride to Lake Akan was beautiful, through winding roads on snowy mountains, but I wouldn’t have dared driven it myself. It was also a lot more comfortable than taking two trains.

Nothing like a long bus ride through nature to make you think about life, though.

The road to Lake Akan / ???????? https://t.co/qCzcwlQ2F0 via @YouTube

— Kesem (@kesemsan) February 15, 2023

I arrived at Akan and realised it was much colder here than the places I’ve been so far. -10 Celsius. My fingers went numb.

This is the largest settlement of the indigenous Ainu people in Japan. If memory serves me right, a little over a hundred people live here.

Lunch was at a traditional Ainu restaurant. After that, I visited the tiny shops selling local crafts. I bought a wood carving necklace, and the store owner carved my name in Japanese on the backside.

Then I went to see the lake. There were lots of people snowmobiling and fishing in tents. I couldn’t resist the temptation, and went snowmobiling myself. It was worth going overbudget. I drove on the frozen lake; it was misty and snowy; and I thought, “if the ice cracks right now, I’m finished”.

Next, I looked for a snack, and ran into tourists from California. They’d seen me yesterday in Kawayu Onsen and recognised me. They were a bit startled I was doing all this traveling by myself, going into remote places like this.

I asked a local girl for directions for my next stop. She might’ve been of Ainu descent. I didn’t ask.

I made it to a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shop that specialises in marimo tofu, which resembles marimo (a ball of algae that grows only in Lake Akan) because it contains matcha. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the only place in Japan that sells it.

I also got fresh soy milk. It tasted nothing like the soy milk in grocery stores abroad. It was like drinking freshly squeezed tofu. Not sure I’ll buy it again.

The shop lady threw in a complimentary slab of fried tempura tofu and said “thank you” in a heavy Japanese accent. I enjoy practicing my Japanese with the locals, but so far they’ve been dropping words in English every now and then, even when there was no need for translation; I guess they enjoy the opportunity to practice as well.

Next, I checked into my accommodation. The room I’d booked smelled strongly of cigarettes, even though I saw the staff clean it this morning when I arrived. So I switched to another room. I wonder if this sort of things happens often in Japan, since many accommodations have smoking and non-smoking rooms.

Akanko Eco Museum Centre had to be closed today for some reason… but a guy I ran into yesterday in Kawayu Onsen recommended a local rooftop hot spring overviewing the lake at a hotel. His description sounded amazing. Once there, I realised no words could do it justice.

An Infinity Rooftop Onsen

The hotel was really fancy and had nine floors. The roof had an open-air hot spring that doubled as an infinity pool overlooking the frozen lake. I went there at like 16:30 when there was still light. You can’t bring anything with you to onsens, you store your clothes and belongings beforehand. So I entered with nothing but a towel and a bracelet with a key to my locker and went up the stairs to the roof.

It was minus ten degrees. Every part of the roof that wasn’t a body of water was covered in snow and ice. I immediately froze and rushed into the hot spring.

I wish I could’ve taken a video, let alone some pictures.

First of all, the view: imagine sitting on an infinity pool and looking down at a frozen lake. I saw it in intervals, because my glasses were completely foggy (and when I removed them, I couldn’t see anything, either.) So I just focused on my other senses.

The submerged part of my body was “pokapoka”, the Japanese word for nice and warm. From my neck up, everything froze. Even the towel on my head was as stiff as ice. When I took out a hand to remove my glasses, it immediately froze. When I exited one hot spring to enter another, I froze. Then boiling water again.

The wind was blowing; snow was falling; the water was raising steam. A piano medley was playing in the background. It was just so many things at once – the view would’ve been enough, but coupled with the extreme difference in temperature, it made for a unique sensation.

This is why I love running into people who have travelled Japan beyond the usual big cities. I hadn’t planned on doing this, and went over budget for it, but it was worth every yen.

I stayed there for an hour or so until it got dark, and passed the time talking to fellow tourists. 

I have a feeling things like this will be among the most memorable moments of my trip. The must-see attractions will happen, of course. But tiny shops & experiences guidebooks don’t tell you about, which you discover only once you’re there, feel really special.

The day ended early with a festival at the lake featuring a traditional Ainu show & fireworks at 20:00.

Lake Akan fireworks / ??????? https://t.co/s2wl3O73Ge via @YouTube

— Kesem (@kesemsan) February 15, 2023

Overall, I went way over budget for all sorts of things. But when else would I be able to snowmobile on a frozen lake while it’s misty and snowing? Where else can I experience such an onsen? What an awesome town to visit. Hopefully the southern part of Japan has less things to spend your money on.

Today’s highlights: getting my name carved on a necklace; snowmobiling; the rooftop onsen; and fireworks.

15 February 2023

• 6:30-8:00 Lake Akan sunrise tour
• Breakfast at accommodation, 4th onsen in a row
• 9:30-14:10 Akan to Asahikawa bus
• Lunch: bento at train station
• 15:30-16:25 Asahikawa to Kamifurano
• 16:30-17:15 Kamifurano to hotel
• Dinner at hotel

Sunrise Tour of Lake Akan

Today started early with a sunrise tour of lake Akan. We put on snowshoes and walked on the lake and watched the sun rise. It was like -20 degrees but not really cold, as I was properly dressed. My face however froze, and taking off my glove to take pictures was a gamble.

We reached a tiny onsen that reeked of sulphur, and did snow angels. Someone’s towel froze and she let it stand on the ground. Then we saw a fox and diamond dust.

On the way back, the guide warned us of wind. I think it was the first time I understood the harsh conditions of this island. My fingers started to hurt from the cold and I kind of freaked out, but everyone said they were hurting too, and five minutes later we were back indoors.

I returned to the accommodation for breakfast (which included nattou… never again) and a quick dip in the onsen (not open air but still nice). My back has been hurting like crazy ever since I carried all my luggage around Sapporo and “slept” on the stiffest chair a night bus could offer. But every time I entered an onsen I left it as good as new.

(Then I carry my stuff again and it’s torture, until I enter another onsen.)

Tokachidake Onsen

Most of the day was spent on long distance travel.

The bus to the hotel was just me and five elderly locals. It struck me just how much tiny countryside towns devoid of tourist attractions face an aging population. Maybe that explains why the bus was free – it normally isn’t.

The road to Tokachidake Onsen / ?????????? https://t.co/tdBOMf1HL8 via @YouTube

— Kesem (@kesemsan) February 15, 2023

I’ve made it to the hotel. Dinner was good but felt like an appetizer. The last few places I’ve stayed at were not only cheaper, but offered mounds of food. This hotel is pretty famous, though, with pictures of famous people that have stayed here, so I can see why. You come first and foremost for the location. It’s also the only place so far where the guests aren’t just me and a few Japanese people. There are actually people from the west here.

Today’s highlight: the sunrise tour, by default. Particularly that frozen towel.

16 February 2023

• 10:00-14:00 snowshoe trek
• Rotenburo (open air onsen)

Today was the best birthday I’ve ever had.

It was -25 Celsius this morning. Inside was nice and warm. After a quick breakfast, I had a snowshoe trek booked. Turned out it’d be just the guide and me. The other guests went skiing.

The guide asked if I would be willing to be interviewed for the news. Apparently she’d uploaded pictures of the trek to Facebook, and a reporter had decided to cover it.

Upon heading out, a guest’s car got stuck in the snow. We helped him tow it. Then the reporter and cameraman arrived, and the four of us hit the road.

Hiking to a Frozen Waterfall While Interviewing for the News

The temperature rose to around -15, but it was windy and snowing, and we used walking sticks. The reporter interviewed me in intervals as we ascended the mountain.

Soon enough my fingers started to hurt again just like yesterday, and I took out hand warmers. It was my first time using them, and the reporter filmed me doing so all the while.

Finally we reached the frozen waterfall we’d set out to. The cameraman had been filming without gloves, but by this point his hands had grown so icy and red that I gave him my gloves.

My phone battery died before I managed to take any photos. The frozen waterfall was breath-taking. There were icicles and “snowfalls” (I don’t know if this is a word, but snow that froze before it fell to the ground). We could see and hear the waterfall’s water flowing underground, forming a river that to my understanding supplied water to the ryokan’s hotel.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kesem ??? (@kesemsan)

The tour ended up being 4 hours instead of 2, and I returned the ryokan for a quick lunch (cup noodles). I gave the cameraman and reporter my last bag of Bamba (popular Israeli snack) and the guide my last marimo tofu from Lake Akan. They said I was scheduled to appear on the news tomorrow afternoon.

Next, I dipped into the ryokan’s open-air onsen. This is my fifth day in a row visiting an onsen, and I can’t decide which one was better. This time the water was brown and overlooked the snowy mountains. Snow was falling, and once again the experience was both cold and warm.

The above obviously count as today’s highlights. Snowshoe trek & getting interviewed; the rotenburo; and getting a birthday cake from the hotel.

The Best Birthday I’ve Had

The last time I saw snow was shortly after my 13^th birthday. To see it again now feels like a full circle moment.

From now on, I want to spend all my birthdays in the land of the rising sun. Please, life? Pretty please? Hope it’s not too much to ask for. Thanks in advance. Sincerely, a disgruntled fan.

Can you imagine, though, being able to negotiate with your life? Like when you order something custom made and make specific requests. Or when you find something at the market that wasn’t custom made, and bargain to at least get a good deal out of it, just to have some leeway.

Better yet, can you imagine being able to foresee your entire life and then deciding if you want it? If it’s worth living? Maybe giving it a shot, like taking a car on a test drive, and then deciding if it’s up to standards?

I can almost picture myself approaching a cosmic customer service counter in a building located next to Russell’s teapot, with clerks that are just a mass of dark matter.

“Hi,” I would say. “I’d like to return this life. I tried it on and didn’t like it.”

The dark matter would just hover in front of me before a voice would boom from all over.

“DSOHGWOVDNOAWVNWOAUEGVNWOVGJW SOFBJNFODJNVORNVSO CS; MSCA[PSKCA[EOKF,” it would say (if say is the right word), and I’d ask for a translation. “Oh. Sorry, but our return policy does not cover failing to reach your full potential. Next!”

Anyway, all jokes aside, this is a pretty fantastic birthday. This ryokan turned out to be yet another memorable stay. I cannot afford it by any means. But it’s so worth it. You won’t see me calling customer service.

My Previous Birthday

I’ve had so much fun in just one week here in Japan, that it’s actually tampered with sadness. Is it weird to experience gratification while grieving its impending loss? I can’t help but think back to my 27^th birthday. I opened my journal and read what I’d written that day. It reminded me of what I’d written at 26. And 25. And before that. And now, at 28, I am having the exact same thoughts. And I don’t know when I will stop having them, because year after year, I find myself in the exact same position: in the corner of a big picture, with its paint peeling.

I’m going to do something I might regret, and share some paragraphs from that entry. Here is an abridged version of the original (in Hebrew).

????? ??? ?? ???? ?????? ?? ??? ????? ?????. ??? ???? ??? ??? ?????? ??? ???? ???? ????? ????? ????. 27 ?? ??? ?? 25 ?? ????? 26. ??? ???? ??? ??? ???? ??? ?????, ??? ???? ?? ????? ???? ????? – ????, ??? ????? ?????. ?? ????? ????, ?? ????? ??? ????? ????? ??? ???, ?? ????? ?????? ???? ?????? ?????: ??? ???? ??? ??? ?????, ???????? ????? ?????? ??? ????????, ?????, ??????. ??? ?? ???? ?? ???? ?? ???? ???? “?????” ????? ??????? ????? ???? ???? ??? ???? ?????? ??? ?????. ??? ?? ???? ??????? ??? ?????? ???? ????. ?????? ??? ??? ???? ?? ????? ??? ????? ?? 27.

??? ??? ????? ????? ????, ??? ???? ????? ???? ????? ?? ????? ????, ???? ???? ?????? ??? ?? ???? ???? ????. ??? ?? ???? ?? ??? ?????? ?? ??. ??????? ???? ?? ?????? ?? ???? ????, ?? ?? ??????? ????, ?????? ????? ?? ???? ????? ???. ????? ?? ???, ???? ?? ???????? ???. ???? ?? ???? ???? ????? ??? ??????? ???, ???? ????? ????, ???? ??? ??? ?? ????.

??? ??? ???? ?????. ??? ?? ???? ?????? ?????.

?????? ??, ??? ???? ????? ???? ?? ??? ??? ?? ???. ??? ???? ????? ?? ???? ??? ????? ??????, ??? ????? ?? ???? ??? ?????? ??? ???? ?????? ???, ??? ?????? ????? ????? ?? ???? ???? ????. ?? ??? ?????? ???? ??????, ??? ????? ????: ?? ???? ???? ???? ???? ???? ??? ????? ?????? ???. 

I can’t be bothered right now to translate this. Here is a shitty automatic translation.

Yesterday I had a lot of thoughts about where I have come in life. I think this is the first time that the age I’ve reached scares me. 27 is really not 25 or even 26. I think every year the age is a little daunting, but this time it feels more real – wow, I’m really getting older. It scares me, because inside I still feel like a teenager, or someone in his early twenties: my mindset is rebellious, against conventions and towards institutions like politics, education, and work. I am not ready or see myself at all “settling down” into the world of employment and working full time like everyone else and acting like an adult. I don’t want to be enslaved to a job I hate again. My point is I don’t feel like a 27-year-old.

I’m happy about the fun day it was, I’m afraid of the precious time I have left on earth, and I’m sad that my life isn’t going anywhere. I don’t know what else to add to that. These thoughts do not help me in any way, they just scare me, and in a way they are actually a waste of time. At the end of the day, I’m tired of this reality. I’m tired of knowing exactly what my dreams are, how to achieve them, and none of it happens.

I’m glad I’m alive. I just want to start living.

And on that note, I’m going to drink hot chocolate in front of an episode of Ugly Betty. I want to end this day on a positive note, and not cry about my fear of death and my lack of success, as I feared yesterday that I would find myself doing today. So as I wrote two years ago, I will end with this: who knows where I will be in a year? I hope in a good place.

That last sentence really makes me think about this past year, because 27 has been my worst year to date. Too many things happened to me that I would gladly erase. Health problems that have since resolved; the realisation I am never going to fulfil my dreams; putting myself out there for the first time, only to get hurt and for things to go wrong; my mom calling the cops to go look for me…

The list goes on, but I think I’ve made my point… most of these are from the last six months – a period that made me miss having boring, uneventful days. I even discovered in this timeframe details about my ancestors that proved I am an Eastern European Ashkenazi through and through, from places like Budapest and Bukovina (either Chernivtsi or Suceava, still unsure).

(On one side of the family, though, I’m a seventh-generation sabra. Or eighth or ninth, no one knows, could be more. My grandma’s great grandpa was a rabbi in Tzfat, and her family helped found Yesud HaMa’ala.)

The only age that comes close to this feeling is 19.

Not all ages were bad. Tenth grade (15-16), sophomore and senior years in uni (21-22), and my M.A. year (24-25) were happier than the rest. Yet it’s hard for me to find a silver lining when I think of 27. Some of the hardships strengthened a friendship or two, while other friendships dissolved. But it was the year I saw myself hitting rock bottom. I can’t think of one thing that broke this pattern. Maybe my new ability to open up. Except it’s not really helpful or career-building, so meh.

I don’t know if I am again oversharing on a stupid blog, but I have been holding things in since I was 12. I have reached a point where I simply don’t care.

So now, at 28, I find myself wondering once more: where will I be a year from now? What will my life look like? Because for the first time, I can’t visualise my future. Clearly, the image I ache to paint for myself is not going to grace the canvas. I hold the brush, but lack the colours. I don’t know what I’ll do once this trip is over. All I see now is a black screen.

I feel like a teenager now more than I felt as an actual teenager. Is it sad to admit so? I had a lot of anger at people and society back then, but I have even more now. Ironically enough, I felt freer and less constrained when I was in school. As a teenager, you have to do a lot of things – you have to go to school, you must listen to your parents – but as an adult, technically you have more choice and agency, when in actuality, you have even less freedom. You must spend most of your waking time working, just to continue to exist.

So now that I have (temporarily) fled this reality and my adult responsibilities – for the first time in my life – I find myself living in the present, for the first time as well.

I’ve dedicated all my time since high school to pursuing my goals. Ten years have gone by. I didn’t really travel much or let loose. When people my age were out there making memories, I was home, writing. But now I am nowhere near fulfilling my dreams. Every day that goes by, I continue to age. I go to bed and tell myself, “Great, yet another day of wasting my time on Earth.”

Except for the last seven days.

I know people out there have it worse. Someone always has it worse. They don’t have food to eat, a bed to sleep in; they are sick. I am not.

Maybe 28 is too old for these thoughts. Maybe I’m embarrassing myself by acting this way while many of my peers work full time and raise kids. But I also knew that it was now or never. And honestly, I’d rather live out the rest of my days like this than act like a normal member of society.

I feel like a perpetual 16-year-old. Not in the sense that I still need to be raised by someone. I can take care of myself and live alone somewhere abroad and handle just fine. I’ve already done that, when the pandemic broke out. But I feel like I am still learning about the world and changing and growing as a person – and the thing is, I don’t think I’ll ever cease to. The more I mature, the more I find myself wanting to rebel against more and more conventions, and being less accepting of things people take for granted. The more I learn about life, the less I agree with the way it is lived. I become increasingly critical of art and society and people’s behaviours and concepts that seem perfectly normal (and sadly, natural) to so many people out there. And I realise that the proclamations I’d made about my future at 16 and even before that, which adults and even my friends laughed off and told me I’d outgrow, are in fact precisely how I wish to spend my time on Earth.

The only “adult” thing missing from my life, beside stoic and slightly Buddhist acceptance of reality, is financial independence. Hence the adolescent feeling.

The last time I had bangs, which I got a few months ago, was in ninth grade.

I’ve always wanted to leave Israel and travel the world. But the idea of being abroad on my own used to scare me. Even in senior year in uni, I remember talking to a relative from the UK – it was 21 May 2017, a family wedding – who suggested I pursued a Master’s degree overseas.

“Yeah, but that’s really scary,” I remember saying.

“Nah,” she said. “It’s nothing, you can do it.”

Now, not doing that scares me. Being tied down to my birthplace and to people and not seeing the world is what I find daunting. And I realise that the only thing stopping me now is money. Not fear. As long as I don’t go on crazy suicide missions, obviously, I don’t see myself living alone in the Amazon for a month – but what I do want to do after Japan, more than anything, is to visit Antarctica.

*

That’s enough for one post, I think. I should probably take a break from writing and focus more on my trip.

Life is a string of bad days. But at least the last seven broke the mould. And with that thought, I’m off to bed.