My True Calling
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What springs into mind when you think about Siberia? snow? Gulag? wasteland?
Scratch that. Siberia in the summer is a completely different experience.
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And then Yael has arrived.
Sometimes a moment’s significance becomes clear only in retrospect.
The more I travel here, the more I feel confident about it. India is so different from Israel, but it’s a difference that has already become somewhat familiar. Walking in a market as the only foreigner, stare back, and order chai at a street stall – it’s already a daily routine.
My feet hesitantly taste the chilled sand. The beach is completely deserted at this time of day. It’s just me, the sand, the waves and the stars.
Mandrines are squeezed, horns are blown, chapattis are frying, betel nuts are chewed, fabrics are sold, chai is cooked, money is switching hands, prices are shouted and legs are marching determinedly.
‘No seats’, said the conductor. Since we could obviously see dozens of people standing in the crowded bus aisle, his declaration was a bit redundant.
I don’t require grand attractions in order to fall in love with a place
It took me quite a while to get here. Years, actually. This is how it happened.
I showed the guard my passport. He looked at me, surprised by my tearful eyes, and said something about me not being happy at a moment like this.
