New York, New York

NOTE: I wrote this on Saturday, but our internet has been out so I'm posting it now.

This weekend has been extremely relaxing. Yesterday, Friday, I woke up at noon and at 6 was still in my PJs. It was around this time that I started having the slow realization that EVERYONE was going to be gone last night. Never in the 2+ months that we’ve been here has someone been the ONLY one out of all 16 of us that was home. Everyone was either gone for the weekend in Tel Aviv or with their family, or going to a Shabbat dinner. I had mixed feelings about this. Normally, I would love being the only one home, but it actually made me kind of sad that I would be all alone while everyone was eating home-cooked food and enjoying conversation with new people. So I asked the last two people here, Laura and Leah, if I could accompany them to their Shabbat dinner at the house of two elderly volunteers and they and the old people said yes.

I should add that yesterday was the first time it’s rained since we been here. And it wasn’t like a light rain, introducing Ashdod to winter. It was basically a monsoon out of nowhere. We all had to run around shutting all the windows because peoples’ beds were getting soaked…not to mention the laundry that people had hanging outside to dry. By the time it started raining, that was a lost cause. We had to seal the balcony doors too as water was leaking in underneath.  This rain’s significance will be made clear later in the post.

So the volunteers, Abe and Ruth, picked us up in the pouring rain and started driving us to their daughter-in-law’s house about 30 minutes away. Abe and Ruth are, as mentioned, an elderly couple in their 80s who spent most of their lives in New York before moving to Israel. Driving with and talking to 80-year-old New Yorkers, with the highways still wet from the rain, made it feel like I could have been driving with anyone’s grandparents in the states. It was quite comforting.

Finally we arrived at the house. After the initial and obligatory awkwardness that basically consists of the whole family asking “…so who are you?” (which I guess is a valid question to ask - I asked the same thing to all the Israelis that showed up at our Halloween party) we quickly realized how lucky we were to be having dinner at this house. The house was beautiful and had a distinct home-y feeling where you knew that tons of memories had been made here. We became aware instantly of how much love there was in this family. More love than I have ever seen a family have for each other. Abe, the patriarch of the whole family, sat down next to his 30 year old grandson and his girlfriend, and 3 of his great-grandchildren, aged 3, 6, and 8 and they were all hugging and kissing each other and, while they talked to one another, had their hands on each others’ backs and legs. Even the girlfriend held and kissed the little kids tightly and hugged her future-sister-in-law firmly as she talked to her. I was mesmerized by the affection. Mostly because in my house, people don’t touch each other. I’ll kiss my aunts, uncles, and grandma on the cheek when I see them (and even then, only SOME aunts and uncles), but head-leaning or back-rubbing is strictly prohibited. I wouldn’t try, but even if I did, I’d be shot down. It made me so happy for these young children to grow up in a home knowing they’re loved, but sad for myself.

Being in Israel has made me realize how affection-phobic I am. Some of the girls on my program are “touchers” and lovers and I truly don’t know how to accept the love when they give it to me. I never had it growing up. I’ve kind of grown up as my own best friend; I love being by myself. The first few weeks here, people kept asking me if I was okay or if I was sad or homesick because I spent so much time alone, but I was like uhh…no…I like it this way. But I’m starting to realize that I like being alone because I don’t know how to be loved by other people. I’ve put up a pretty strong wall around myself and I don’t like to/know how to let people in. It’s something I need to work on because I think I’ll feel much more fulfilled if I open up my heart to people. But a childhood lacking in affection and the damage from an emotionally abusive 5-year relationship makes it really hard for me.

Being surrounded by the kind of love I wish I had as a child was amazing last night.  We ate a delicious dinner of homemade challah, vegetable soup, rice-stuffed chicken, and jelly doughnuts and mint tea for dessert. I got to talk at length with the girlfriend of the grandson about her being a vegetarian and my experience being a vegetarian, and with the whole family about their very interesting lives moving back and forth between Israel and New York. They were fascinating because when they talked in English, they sounded like any typical New Yorker, but when they talked in Hebrew, they sounded like native Israelis. This was because the grandparents were born in New York and, as adults, moved to Israel where they had their 3 children. The children didn’t want to be in Israel and, as adults, moved back to the states where they had their children, who in turn didn’t want to be in the states and moved back here. Thus, they’re all bilingual and bicultural and it was just really interesting to hear their experiences (before I knew this, I was speaking really simple English to them because I didn’t want to offend them by talking too fast and have them not know what was going on. The 30-year-old then told me he went to Cornell for college… so THAT was awkward. I felt like an idiot).

Finally it was time to go (but not before the 80-year-olds got our names so he could find us on facebook). I walked outside and became overwhelmed with emotion from the love from the family mixed with the smell of the rain and the post-rain dew. I looked up to sky and exclaimed that I was going to cry (not a sad cry, just a “I almost feel an emotion” kind of cry). Abe came over and hugged me so tightly and said “It’s gonna be okay baby. I’ll be your grandpa here.” It was the perfect ending to a perfect evening. And to think…I could have spent the entire night in my pajamas, alone, eating pretzels and nutella, happy that I was getting alone time. But I am so happy that I made the decision to spend the evening with people.