Tuesday, January 18, In Which Tenara Starts to Get Nervous

This morning (or should I say around noon, as Genelle and I are lazy) Genelle came over for breakfast.  She doesn't have a site anymore, and this week I don't have to be at the theater until my own rehearsals, as Rich is unfortunately having a heart "procedure" which involves an overnight stay at the hospital.  This sucks, for obvious reasons.  It also means that I get to use my key and hold rehearsals at the theater when Britt and Rich aren't there.  Rich and I are perfectly okay with this, but Britt, I think, is concerned, not necessarily because she doesn't trust me, but because it's understandable to be concerned when a group of rowdy actor teenagers are in her theater alone.  She actually stopped by today for like, two seconds, just to rush into the theater, tell me that she had to go back to the hospital and say, "Please, please, PLEASE call me if you need anything."

Today's blog's theme is: PANIC ATTACKS!  Genelle and I are famous to each other for getting together, thinking too much, and having subsequent panic attacks.  Genelle is leaving for Austria in twelve days.  I prefer not to count how many days I have until I leave for Israel, as I'm sure I would dissolve into an anxiety-puddle if I did such a thing.  I'm rounding it off to about a month until I leave, which is certainly more time than Genelle has, but suddenly I find myself facing this enormous project that is actually quite a big deal.  I mean, I have been stewing about this for THREE YEARS.  Of course, the actual details and content of the Walkabout have changed, and frequently, but the fact of the matter is that everything is happening.  I'm actually on Walkabout right now, which is so weird to think about.

Genelle said something as she was leaving about walking across the stage in five months.  For some reason, this does not scare me nearly as much as the journey ahead of me.  Walking across the stage is a simple walk across the Fawcette Center stage - I walk all the time.  The meaning and weight into that walk is something different, of course, but for some reason, I don't find nearly as frightening as going to Israel to intern with these organizations.

Now as I'm typing this, I'm asking myself: Why am I so scared?  I suppose 'scared' is kind of a harsh word.  I am excited, yes, but most of all I'm nervous.  Yes, I've been to Israel before, and yes, the language gap is smaller than the last time I went.  But now, there is so much more depth to my trip.  It's not even the fact that I'm striking out on my own or that I'm going to be away from my family for the longest time I have ever been.  It's that I'm going to attempt to make a mark, however small, on the face of issues that are important to me.

This would be a good time to list out my fears, which is something I do whenever I'm spinning dangerously out of control:

1) I won't be helpful to the organizations I'm working with
2) I won't make any friends (which is such a juvenile fear, but it's true)
3) I'll run out of money
4) I'll get terribly homesick
5) I'll end up making a complete fool of myself

Now comes the part where I try to aleviate each fear.  The obnoxious things about these fears is that most of them are up to me and could very well happen, and I'll just have to deal.  For numbers 1) and 3), I know that's simply up to me, and I will have to exercise good control and assertiveness wherever I am.  For number 2), I know that it's a lie - of course I will make friends, just the nature and dynamic of the friendship may be very different than what I am used to.  For number 4), I know that that will happen - in some way or another.  Usually I get homesick right when I get there, just because I'm tired and weepy and jet lagged.  But I also know that what will make me feel better is settling into a routine wherever I am, to become less of a tourist and more of a citizen, to know my way around the city, know which buses to take without getting lost, etc., etc.  Israel's a strange place for me to get homesick, because sometimes when I'm here, I feel homesick for Israel.

For number 5), I know that will happen.  There's not even a question of that happening.  I will make mistakes, I will look stupid and dumb and ignorant, and I will offend people.  It's bound to happen, at least once, and definitely more than just once.  I think the trick is to be okay that I'm going to fumble, but that I have the power to get back up and prove that I can learn and do whatever it is that I've been assigned.

Anyway, after that severely introspective blog, I'll post some pictures of rehearsal today.

Damien, Daryon, Wes, and Keihin during the Boys Will Be Girls scene.  Keihin's laughing because Damien's so silly.

 
From left to right: Damien, Daryon, Wes, Keihin, Amber, Whitlee, and Bailey.  The boys are the girls and the girls are the boys.  Notice how the girls are sitting.  Like boys, right?  The boys are still hesitant to sit like demure girls, but I'll beat that out of them.