naked

i’d sit along the swimming pool, dangling my legs, cradling an unlit cigarette between my fingers, watching an old fat Israeli lady swimming slow laps across the length. her skin, over the sun; her body, over the health; she’s smoked her way to a comfortable age where it’s too late to regret and to easy to forget.
i’d wonder if i’d ever be one of these Israeli ladies. i don’t think it was wishful wonder but a passive wonderment that held some meaning for me when i was unsure of it all; still unable to express myself, still as a 7-year-old, as a separate class. and it’s my american breeding that made me so unable or unwilling to strip myself naked before society, or maybe just this society that’s been stripping itself naked since it started. but i’ve never had a need to do so in america, and it’s been hard to begin after 20+ years that way.
we’re born naked and we’re buried naked, but life has been made to be an image building thing where naked is a condition to be feared. its stupid, like playing with an unlit cigarette between my fingers and sitting on the edge of a pool.

this is a place…

where you’re on the phone with your mom, discussing the future,
and a bunch of 7-year-old boys sit and watch you talking,
and one comes up and says, ‘at tzocheket o bocha?’
so you have to answer to him, ‘tzocheket,’
and after the worried 7-year-olds all laugh and dance around,
sweet smiles and, ‘bye chamuda!’
so you can laugh and wave back,
and everything is ok,
between your mom in your ear,
and israeli children looking out for you…

scool's in

i hate/love waiting in line for dean of international students,
i hate/love walking around confused as hell,
i hate/love sounding like a sub-five year old in hebrew,

i hate/love this aliyah process,

but i
hate
hate
hate

the israeli post office!!!

holy places and doubts

everytime i visited the old city of jerusalem, i felt different.

first time – forced awe.
second time – refined awe.
third time – actually prayed.
fourth time – saw art.
fifth time – checked off the ‘to do’ list.
sixth time – resentment.

…maybe it’s because it was post thesis on survival theory.
…maybe it’s because i’m actually moving here now.

and just when you think…

so i just stayed up all night with a guy who was born in turkey and raised in italy… just talking and watching tv… he just left now to report to army service… how can i not love this place? adventure everywhere…

and now i am not waking up to the roosters crowing…

tarmac

i woulda been declaring citizenship today… no regret in my voice.
gettiing off the plane felt different anyway. sure, i was excited. vacation!
but it was about getting to where i had to go, doing what i came to do. in the taxi ride to herzliyah, instead of staring at he palm trees in amazement, i stared at the road signs to study the highways for future reference.