I’m still very much on a vacation.
The dust has settled, literally, the sun has come back out, and my skin tone is finally not a see-through, pale as the moon, white.
A crew is being formed and all my money is being spent on eggplant, mango sauce, hummus filled, cucumber and tomato topped pita pockets. It’s also going to nose-bleed seats for Kanye West, taxis from towns I can’t pronounce, pants with elephants printed down the entire length and beers on dance floors with live music right on the edge.
The extremely full and satisfying feeling I had right before leaving my beautiful life in America just over a week ago is still very present. I miss the people who have made 23 the golden year it was meant to be. It’s a good miss, a miss I can handle, and a miss that is making me appreciate all of you and who you are to me more than I ever knew.
In return for all you’ve done for me…(jealousy)
3:10 PM on the last day of Rosh Hashanah:
Sitting on a perfectly sized, form-fitting couch in the type of café you’re picturing in your head with chalkboards full of Hebrew, jars of bottle corks, big plants, little plants, people on their phones, people speaking English, Hebrew, maybe something else? A waitress who translated the entire salad I’m eating right now that literally makes me smile every time I take a bite. Fresh is what it tastes like. Fresh like the feeling of this fan on my face in the 90°, 70% humidity weather just outside café Rayza in my hipster, dirty, smelly, incredibly unique, graffiti-filled neighborhood.
So that’s me.
Yesterday was filled with sand and the sea.
Today is all about this salad, and the company I’m about to walk back to in my apartment, the room I already have to clean and the hot plate I have to plug in that’ll take all afternoon to heat up just to boil one pot of water.
Tomorrow this new reality continues, the one that feels like a long vacation I probably won’t want to end.
Hoping you all find your own vacations.
The ones that make you smile every time you take a bite out of a salad.