Filed under: A New Reality, General, Holidays, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life, Travel
I love travelling out of the country. I’ve been living in Israel for for almost 25 years now, so don’t get me wrong, this is my home.
But maybe because I don’t do it that often (compared to many Israelis who travel abroad for business or pleasure many times a year), I just love being on airplanes, going to the airport, browsing the duty free shops.
As soon as I get to Ben-Gurion Airport, and get through the labrynthe of security checks, interrogation, passport control and more security checks, I already feel like I’m abroad, with the lavish outbound terminal and its kitschy fountain spraying every few minutes, and outgoing travellers appearing happy instead of their normal tense demeanor.
I love to leave the country, but ironically, it’s hard not to think about it as soon as I’m gone. Whenever I hear Hebrew spoken abroad, my ears perk up in the same way as when I hear English on the streets here. Suddenly, it’s the Israelis I have the secret bond with, not the English speakers.
I’m spending Hannukah in the United States, where the only candles burning in the windows are artificial Christmas ones. So it will seem strange at first, and I’ll probably miss the Hannukah events and activities that are a normal part of daily life during the week back in Israel.
As we touch down back in Tel Aviv, it will be back to the loud voices, honking cars and rude behavior. And I’ll breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I’m home. And I’ll almost immediately start thinking about my next trip abroad.