What?

I awoke this morning to a siren going off.  Today is Holocaust Day in Israel, and the day is dedicated to remembering the Holocaust and holding ceremonies and memorials for it.  The siren is supposed to stop whatever everyone's doing and stand all together as a country for a moment of silence.

Outside the apartment window, however, the construction raged on.  I have a feeling this is because most of the construction workers are Arab.

I think days like these are important especially for younger kids so that the significance and terror of the event is never lost on incoming generations.  Holocaust Day is followed by Memorial Day and then Independence Day in Israel.  Memorial Day and Independence Day are next week, though, so I won't be here for those events.  Because Israel is such a smaller country with such a bloodier history and a very real sense of brotherhood, Memorial Day here means a lot more than Memorial Day does in the States.  I mean, Memorial Day for us is a chance to have sales at Macy's.  Here in Israel two sirens go off - one in the morning and one in the evening, and everyone is supposed to just stop what they're doing, even if they're driving.  I know there are ceremonies in the States especially among veterans, but it's nothing that wide-spread.

In other news, I'm leaving in less than five days.  Every time I think about leaving I grow more and more anxious.  Maybe it's because of all the flight stuff (can I check in the night before in an international flight?  How early should I get to the airport?  I know I am leaving on my Israeli passport, but what if they stop me because of army crap?  I can't leave on my American, but they'll know I am American when they start jammering away in Hebrew and I only catch about 80% of it), or maybe it's because I have been here for so long that it's almost inconceivable for me to be leaving.

Yesterday I went to the supermarket to buy ingredients for the dinner I was making for my Uncle people.  I always check out with the same Russian woman every time I go to that market, and yesterday I found out her name was Svetlana.  Goodbye, Svetlana.

Maybe a part of me doesn't want this trip to be over, and maybe a part of me is really excited that it is coming to an end.  Alon thinks that I am mixing my excitement to be going home with the pool of anxiety I always have at my disposal.  He's probably right.  Yesterday he was explaining to his niece that whenever I'm in a transitional phase, I get really anxious.  I thought it was really hilarious that he knew that.  He should have - I've stayed with him and Udi for the past two and a half months, and during those months I have gone through several transitional phases.

I am feeling some of the same emotions as I did the first couple days I was here - panicky, on edge, hyper aware of the differences between me and the people around me.  I guess these emotions are now stemming from different places.  I'm panicky because I'm about to pack a huge chunk of my life away into my suitcases, board a plane, and have it be over.  I'm on edge because when I get home...what will I do?  Like, I already have plans for the day I get back to spend time with my family and my friends, but...how am I going to spend my time?  It'll be the same strange experience as when I got here - everyone already has their schedule, and I'll have to readjust to find mine.  On the last note, I guess now I'm more hyper aware of the similarities of the people around me and myself.  I hope when I get to baggage claim in Columbus I'm not super pushy like the Israelis have taught me to be.  Yesterday I was on the bus and sitting in the aisle seat while the window seat was free, and when someone came to sit there, instead of a normal human American, I didn't scoot over to the window, I let him climb over me.  I was slightly ashamed of myself.

Today I'm taking the train into Kfar Saba one last time to say goodbye to everyone.  Because of foot injuries from magic communes, I had to change my plans a bit this weekend.  I couldn't go to Nazareth as I had planned/wanted to, but it also turned out that Diran couldn't go either, so I didn't feel so terrible.  I plan the next three days to be spent at the commune or at the Sadaka offices, and then Friday I already made Alon and Udi swear to me that in the afternoon before we leave for the airport, we're going to watch A Town Called Panic, that silly French movie that Amy showed us in her class this past semester.  As I was describing the movie, I talked about how surprised Amy and the rest of the class was when we were watching it, and I felt like classes at Graham (I have literally forgotten all my French, which is promising) was so disconnected from where I was then.  I mean, standing in the doorway of my Uncle people's room, explaining the premise of the movie to Alon, in Ramat Gan, which is East of Tel Aviv, which is on the shore of Israel, which is a Middle Eastern country on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea, which is south of Europe, which is East of America - I felt like thinking of the amber-lit French room at Graham was like thinking into a past life.  It's going to be so weird to go back.

I guess that's what I'm most anxious about.  I am sooooooooooooooooo excited to see my parents and my brother and my friends again, but what I'm most afraid of is trying to adjust to the two separate lives I have experienced this year.  I know that presenting the Walkabout to the students and the parents and all of the process of graduating will bring it together a bit more in my mind, but right now they're so separate.  If it wasn't for journaling, I would think I had already graduated.

I had put a jazz CD on while I made my coffee this morning, and the song that just came on is Mood Indigo by Duke Ellington's band.  It's such a soothing song and I feel like it came on at just the right time.  (Seriously - in a tizzy?  Listen to Mood Indigo.)

Yotam asked me yesterday, "What are you going to do on your last few days here in the country?" and I said, "Not think about the fact that it's my last few days in the country lest I dissolve into a puddle of anxiety attack."  I may have scared him, I don't know.

My next blog post will be much more frenzied, as it will be on Thursday, the night before I'm leaving.  I can't wait to see everyone again.