A year ago, dear friends, I left the Holy Land.... seeking parts unknown in places I navigate with my eyes closed. And so began a year of transition. In many ways I feel like I had unrealistic expectations [6 months. Definitely only 6 months and then I'm good to go!] - but I've been learning how to be more gentle and understanding with myself.
East.
West.
Some funny and some true stories (anecdotes? tales?) from my year of transition:
It may be helpful to know that, while I moved nearly every year as a kid, I did most of my "growing up" in Orange County... and yet people still ask me where I'm from. I know that the Baha'i World Centre has its own accent going on [the result of the in-gathering of hundreds of people from hundreds of countries communicating and making themselves understood in a single language]. It's somewhat a mash-up of the Commonwealth accents, with incredibly heavy American overtones - and all sentences end up sounding like a question, as though you're making doubly sure that everyone understands you. So yeah. We sound (to my ears) Canadian. Many people have confused me for a well-educated mainland European ex-pat who either went to an American school or watched a grip of American TV.
When I slide into my BWC accent (never apurpose, I assure you) lately, however - local folks ask me if I'm French. French. Well, merci beaucoup to you and you and you! [But it's still weird. Trust.]
I really (really) love the service opportunities I have here. You should know that I miss Haifa, like, e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y - but! I had a really interesting dream yesterday (the actual and factual one year anniversary of my last day in Israel). I dreamed that I was back in Haifa, and I really felt like a fish in water - so natural to be there, and 2 weeks into my visit... I was offered a chance to stay. Permanently. And my first thought to the people I serve with here. To the children and youth I mentor (but who really mentor me), to the friends who help me - everyday - to be the best person I can possibly be... and without hesitation, I felt that I should decline the offer. An offer that at alternating points in the last year I'd have jumped at. I'm not saying that missing the Holy Land is easy... but I realize that (particularly as a result of prayer and service) it is closer to me than my life's vein. Confirmations abound.
This has been a year of learning for me. Learning how to be a gentler person, learning how to detach from those things you thought would make you whole... would make me better, learning how to learn. Road rage is an irksome beast... but there's always the hope that my next community will have public transportation and be pedestrian friendly! Until then, if you happen to be in south Orange County, don't cut off the girl in the '90 Ford Bronco. The Bruiser doesn't slow as quickly as some would like!
