I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
 
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
 
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
 
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
 
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
 
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

J. R. R. Tolkien, “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring”

9 April 2024

Post-Trip Update

Fourteen months later, my trip is over.

The fact that it extended again and again from the original three months was the least surprising development. I’ve lived a lifetime in a little over a year, where every day brought with it a new experience, a new achievement, or a new low. Not knowing where I would sleep tonight, who I would meet, what I would do – it straddled the line between daunting and exhilarating, until it taught me how to live in the present.

This growth culminated in my discovery of romantic love.

It is time to organize everything that happened to me, and usher in a new chapter of this blog. The original title, subtitle, and layout are now retired.

22 April 2024

Things I Missed and Didn’t Miss about Israel

Today is Passover, my most hated day of the year. I mark two weeks in Israel.

Things I missed about Israel:

• The food

Things I did not miss about Israel:

• Security interrogations before flights
• Check-in counters and boarding gates are pushed to the far end of airport terminals out of safety concerns
• People’s normal speech is as loud as shouting
• I am the only one wearing a mask, and thus addressed in English by Israeli flight attendants
• People cut in line
• A couple makes out next to me inside the plane
• Passengers talk on the phone inside public transportation (including planes)
• People stand on both sides of escalators
• Armed soldiers and security guards are everywhere, the latter even at the entrance to grocery stores
• I can no longer leave my belongings unattended without risking theft
• There is no orderly line to board trains. They are slow and late. There are no levels of speed to choose from. Station announcements are in Hebrew only. The aisle is narrow enough for just one person to cross
• Public Wi-Fi outside the airport is rare
• The first thing I need to do after landing is buy emergency equipment for my safe room
• No bagging stations inside grocery stores
• NO CONVENIENCE STORES
• No convenience at all
• No love hotels
• People fight, yell, and curse vociferously in public
• Every piece of information is shared with everyone as soon as it happens. Family, friends, and strangers shove their noses into my pocket, my plate, my body, and my pants, commenting on how I look, how unrecognizable I’ve become, how I’ll pay for existing, what I’m eating, and who I’m dating. They call every hour to ask about my doings.
• Every single person I know is pragmatic to the core. They are too career-oriented to enjoy the present, appreciate my choices, and take interest in my experiences
• “Writing? Japan? You need MONEY” says every rich person around me as soon as they see me for the first time in fourteen months
• If I don’t have a stable income and a serious relationship, I’m a failure. Which, as a 29-year-old bereft of these, I am
• Unsolicited criticism from friends, family, and strangers who never have anything good to say. If I mention something I like, they shift the conversation to their aversion to it
• “Don’t tell anyone,” I am told by someone who then tells everyone
• “Did you date a girl?” “No” “What about a guy????????”
• I want to confess my secrets, but the lay of the land is pretense. I am asked to keep my sexuality hidden
• I constantly have to stop myself from speaking in English
• Traffic is among the worst in the world. Drivers are fond of cutting, yelling, honking, and ignoring safety rules
• Public transportation is limited and rental bikes cost more than a bus
• Frequent power outages
• No one takes their shoes off at the entrance
• The queer dating pool is microscopic
• Toxic masculinity, even among gays
• Constant nuclear threat
• Being the only introvert in a family of extroverts who don’t believe in distance
• I can’t afford my own place because even the most esteemed authors can’t make a living
• Dentists and dermatologists are always fully booked for six months
• Customer service can take hours
• No chopsticks
• No foreigners or tourists
• Everything costs 3-5 times more than in the Far East, even though minimum wage is only 1.3 times higher
• Political issues are also religious. People say “with the help of god” and “amen” all the time
• Shops close at 22:00
• The taste of water
• People eat with their hands out of shared food
• Work and war dominate every conversation
• Constant threats of strikes from neighboring countries frighten residents into staying home and barricading their safe rooms
• Missile alerts
• Explosive sounds of missiles being intercepted
• The news loves to scare viewers even more than they already are in order to increase rating
• Iran attacks Israel for the first time in history. I wake again and again throughout the night, dreading an alarm
• Police sirens are a daily sound
• I sink into a routine. I don’t visit new places or meet new people. No more ever-changing conditions that challenge my abilities
• I’ve lost touch with all my pre-trip friends, apart from one, because they didn’t act like friends
• I spend my free time alone in front of the computer, chewing on a pen in someone else’s home. Conversations with people I miss day and night remain trapped in my head. Unrequited love besieges my train of thought. Hugs are easier to obtain from a pillow
• I count the days until I leave my country of origin and the only place where I can legally reside all my life
• In every scenario and situation, I am the odd one out
• “I can’t believe you were raised in the same house,” every family member says about me and my twin brother. My family resembles each other so much, that, as the polar opposite to all of them, it is a wonder I was not adopted
• Some shops can be found only in another city
• Customer service agents yell in anger
• Most people have no sense of style
• Jeans and flip flops
• CARGO SHORTS AND FLIP FLOPS
• Homophobia
• Arabophobia
• Religious zealots
• Every weekend, orthodox Jews force the country to revert to antiquity (no shops, services, or public transportation)
• “You want to live in the Far East? What did you lose there? They’re all ROBOTS”
• Every Passover, it’s illegal to sell food that contains grains. Half of the shelves in supermarkets are unavailable. Including bread.
• Every day brings with it an argument. I am told not to do something, then yelled at for following instructions. I forgot what it’s like to have altercations; how every interaction with Israelis is intense, whether good or bad. The local mentality is militant. People’s temper is as hot as the desert. I yearn to sleep in cramped dormitories in the Far East, than live in my family’s penthouse
• My family