1:8 Reminiscing in Rothschild

I am sitting in a coffee shop on a street called Rothschild, waiting for the caffeine to seep into my blood stream. It is already 2.30 in the afternoon and I have just got my hands on my daily supply of coffee. Maybe I am addicted, I never did drugs, but aren’t we all entitled to a daily substance-induced buzz of some sort. Anyway, my excuse of course is that is my parents fault. It was they who taught me the appreciation of good coffee, that being fresh espresso rather than instant Nescafe.

The sky is partially cloudy, yet I can’t complain; I have just spent the weekend on the beach. It was amazing, the end of February brought sunshine and blue skies … This type of weather will not take a great deal of getting use to, it just fazed me to be able feel the heat of the sun on my skin at this time of year. It radiated inside me, no longer winter stiffness, but rather a feeling of energy and tranquility. London is approximately 2 degrees, there is no sunshine, no blue sky, simply a sheet of white suffocates the sky … I definitely will not be missing that.

I have spent the day in a hypynotic state of reminiscing. So, with this in mind, I have decided to take my blog to the next level and elaborate on these thoughts. I want to spell out how I feel, rather than simply note my observations in Israel. A friend mentioned that she did indeed enjoy my writing, but more so, she would like to know what exactly was going on inside this complicated head of mine. So, I will try to attempt emotional elaboration.

…. So, back to Rothschild. I chose to sit in Café Hillel, a coffee shop situated on the corner of a junction on this beautiful boulevard. Rothschild is a favourite place of mine to sit and observe the world go by. It is a wide road with a centre piece of walkway, grass, trees and coffee shops running down the middle. It is the ‘Tel Avivian’ catwalk for dog walkers, joggers, coffee sippers and trendy designer mums with their designer buggies. It is here I have chosen to sit and reminisce.

Yesterday I experienced my one of many emotional rollercoaster moments. I have experienced one too many of these since moving to Israel, when at times one minute I feel on top of the world, and the next, I couldn’t be more miserable. I was told by my ‘Aliyah’ representative that this is the process of dealing with culture shock. I did believe it was getting easier. However, yesterday I was overwhelmed by a feeling of missing and loneliness. I do have companionship in Israel, I am fortunate to have made great friends and, in addition, I receive tremendous love and comfort from my boyfriend. Despite all this, nothing could ease the feeling of totally emptiness that possessed me. Yesterday, around 7 in the evening, I cooked dinner for Effy and I, chorizo sausages and sweet potato mash. We ate, he cleared up, I sat on the couch, switched on the television, and then suddenly, when all was done, when the realization that Effy would soon be off home hit me, I felt this sudden rush of emptiness, which hit the pit of my stomach and press against my heart. I hadn’t yet experience such ‘home sicknesses’, such a sense of emptiness from being away from my family and my friends.

Left Behind – The Irreplaceable

The last eight months of living in Israel seemed like a dream, the reality that I had left home as it was, to set off to establish a life in another country, hadn’t totally hit me. It was at this point the feelings of missing my loved ones came to haunt me. Once every person I know, the ones that I have relied on in more ways that are realised, are no longer around, I now have come to truly appreciate their existence in my life. Coming to Israel has made me clearly realise how amazing the people who have been blessed in my life are. Yesterday, I yearned for these people. I craved to experience the presence of my friends from home, to be around those that understand me, with those who I can breathe easily. It is around these people I do not need to taper my character, to polish up any undesirable facets, and to simply be my neurotic self without any judgement!

Yesterday, I yearned for my family. My mother and father, who may turn every screw inside me, are undoubtedly my best friends and I miss them greatly. My mother and father are chalk and cheese; they drive me crazy, they drive each other crazy. However, when these two individuals come together, they seem to fit like coffee and milk and nothing else seems more perfect. My brothers … energetic, charming yet ‘real’ young men … I wish I could be around them, to have the moment of behaving like the children we were when united together and bonded by our joint memories of innocence and childhood. These people will always play a part in the epicentre of my happiness. It is now that I have realised this.

Mike’s Place

I was too fragile to be left alone last night. I had planned to meet my friends, but couldn’t face returning to a potentially empty flat. So Effy decided that after I met with my friends, he would pick me up and we would go back to Ashdod together. With my fears settled, I was ready for some light relief in the form of a pint. It was around 8 in the evening when I joined my friends at Mike’s Place, an English speaking pub that faces Tel Aviv beach front.

Around three months into moving to Israel, Susi, my close friend, and I went to Mike’s Place for a few drinks. Whilst sitting at the bar, we strung up a conversation with a young American barman, Josh. We came to discover that he is a successful documentary producer. His most recent production was a documentary relating to the suicide bombing of Mike’s Place a few years back. This piece was an initial idea of an American director, who came to this pub in Israel to document an aspect of Israeli cultural diversity that takes place here. Some would say Mike’s Place represents Israeli Utopia, the unity of all cultures and religion in one place, with one thing dominating people’s thoughts, peace.

During his filming, a young British man approached the entrance of this pub, with explosives tied round his body and blew himself up, killing three and injuring many others. Some would say the attention the American director had given to the pub led to evil karma being cast upon it. Josh had assisted the director with this piece and was present during the explosion. The director was badly injured, and so Josh took it upon himself to continue with the filming.

Susi and I sat together to watch the documentary. Needless to say, it was unsettling and horrific to watch, leaving us both tearful and in shock. The documentation begins with insight of the lives of those who work at the pub; like characters in a film, you become involved, you feel empathy towards them like they are friends of your own. When it was revealed that some of these ‘characters’ actually died, we felt the real loss that had occurred that day.

Last night, the BBC was recreating the suicide bombing at Mike’s Place for an additional documentation. Friends of Josh were to be extras. Susi and I were given the role to cross the path of the suicide bomber on his entrance to Mike’s Place. The memories of terror and tragedy being played out dissolved and were taken over by the excitement and glamour of cameras, director’s calls for ‘action!’ and free beer.

Rollercoaster Ride

After leaving Mike’s Place, Effy and I returned to Ashdod to meet with his best friend who had returned from the US after a year. The evening ended in a triumph of contentment. It would be so simple if all moments of madness and sadness could return to equilibrium like this evening. After tragedy, such as the bombing of Mike’s Place; after moments of loneliness and depression; following any bout of downturn, it would much easier to deal the journey if it was simply like a rollercoaster ride. If at anytime, we get on the ride and deal with the emotions of life and the realities of war amongst humans, that once the ride had finished, once the dust settles, we would merely step off the ride, and continue with life. How simply life could be … we can only dream.


Other things I Reminisce About:

Tesco Metro
Marks and Spencer’s Mushroom Pate
Marmite
Cheese and Onion Walkers Crisps
London Underground (surprisingly)
London cabbies
Cobbled streets
Pubs
Pizza Express
Spring Blossom