I'm Back

I didn’t have one of those cliche sleepless nights the night before I left for Israel. Three Tylenol PMs took care of that. It was strange that in a little more than twenty-four hours I was both approved as a “katin chozer” (returning minor) from the Ministry of Immigrant Absorption in Israel, booked my flight, and then actually flew to Israel. It all happened so fast I barely had time to process it. Even though I was sitting in a plane at 40,000 feet, on the inside the closest thing to a "feeling" I had was slight, distant displacement. I’d already gone to Israel before so in a sense nothing novel was happening. My mind was being so overloaded in such a short period of time that it was like nothing interesting was taking place at all. Oh, okay, I’m leaving home to go be independent for the first time in my life, halfway around the world, in a country with a language I don’t speak, to join the army, and I guess what I’m trying to say is that I can’t go to the movies tonight guys. Sorry.

On the other hand, I had some moments of powerful emotions. My unconscious really opened the floodgates a few times. I cried my eyes out saying goodbye to my five-year-old brother. His mother has already abandoned him, and while I know that leaving him isn’t wrong because eighteen-year-olds are supposed to leave the nest and start building theirs lives, I also know that in a very real sense I am just another figure in his life that has now up and vanished for no reason that he can understand. He’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life up to this point and now I won’t get to see him for probably three years.

Also, my wrecking ball of second thoughts and doubts was knocking down the pillars of my sanity while I was on the plane. Who the fuck snubs a readily available college education to go volunteer for a foreign army? No matter how much I reminded myself that I’m not ready for college and should experience as many walks of life as possible while I’m young, the Energizer Bunny in my head just kept going and going. Flying over the Atlantic, even on a fully booked 747, is one of the most lonely places in the world. The loud and incessant churning of the engine mixed with negative emotions can really do a number on your mental state. There's people only a few feet from you in all directions, but they might as well be a mile away. To combat this, I did what any normal person would have done: took some sleeping pills, cranked up “Back in Black,” and let the bad times roll. Soon I was asleep and after I woke up that feeling of displacement I was talking about before doused most of my fears, and I was like a zombie for a good twelve hours. My dad and aunt were waiting for me at the airport. I smiled, laughed at their jokes, and even felt some genuine excitement, but I was only operating on four, maybe six, out of eight cylinders. I wasn’t fully there. It wasn’t until that night when I started to become excited and happy again, like anyone making Aliyah should be. I’m returning home! What isn’t there to be thrilled about?

And that’s how I feel now, on my third day in my new home. I’m still scared, I’m still apprehensive, but I know I’ve made the right decision. The next three years are going to be hard, and hell, they’re supposed to be hard. I didn’t come to Israel to be in a day camp. I came here to grow up and become a man, and you don’t become a man (or woman) unless you follow your heart and surmount any obstacles in the way of where it’s taking you. That’s the only way, in my estimation, that someone can grow up. I’m a little jealous of my classmates that are going to college, but I feel confident when I say that we’re both getting a higher education, just in much different ways. The abuse I’ll have to take in “tironut” (basic training), the terror of being in a combat situation, having to make it on my own, I welcome it all but am doing my best to not romanticize it; I know this might be the hardest thing I'll ever do. It could also very well be the best thing that I ever do, and I’ll be god damned if I’m not a little stoked about it.

Everyone here has been more than friendly. And as I’ve learned, friendliness needs no translation. Only about half my family here has conversational English but I have a connection with all of them. It’s amazing. I’m e-mailing back and forth with my family in the States, and in a way, becoming closer with them than I was in America. With most of them, I only saw them on special occasions, but now there’s an active back-and-forth where we update each other on what’s going on in our lives. I never had that before. Most news I heard only secondhand.

The way I’ve felt in the past few days have been some of the most unique emotions of my life. The bottom line is that I’m right in that sweet spot of happiness and enjoyment; in the way that you get the most enjoyment out of something right before it happens. I’m looking now over a broad and unfamiliar landscape, but have only begun my journey. I hope it's a good one.