Home?

While I’ve seamlessly transitioned back into some parts of being in America, other things hit me in the weirdest ways. For example, it seems like I never even parted from access to a car, carpeting, central air (!), familiar TV channels, and free laundry. Other things, though, have jumped out at me. The hip hop and rap on the radio stations, for example, when I was expecting to hear recycled American hits of the 90’s followed by some nice Yemenite music, maybe with a dose of European techno.

It seems almost laughable that I can hardly buy a few apples and oranges for less than ten bucks, let alone fruit and vegetables for an entire week. Unfortunately, the joke’s on me. My completely American frisbee games make me wistfully think of the Hebrish nonsense that passed for communication back in Be’er Sheva on Wednesday nights, playing on a sorry excuse for a grassy field but euphoric all the same.

In the grocery store today, right as I got in line, I realized I’d forgotten an item on my list. Without a second thought, I parked my cart in line and dashed back to the fruit section. On my way back, I found myself trying to remember if grocery store line etiquette permits a cart to hold place in line. Definitely holds up in Israel.

Still good to be home, but maybe in a bit of denial.