(This Isn't) The End

This is absolutely surreal. I can't believe it. I'm sitting in Ben Gurion International Airport right now getting ready to board my flight to Boston via Toronto. After exactly three months (I left California on May 28th), I am returning home.

But what even is home? For the first seventeen years of my life, home was California, Anaheim Hills, my family, my pets. Then, two years ago, Harvard became my home as well; Boston garnered my affection, and I missed my friends to death whenever I went back to California. That's when I first began to understand home is not a building and it is not a city--home is in the hearts and arms of the people you love. And that is why I know that Israel has become my third home.

I've left pieces of my heart scattered around this country. In Haifa and the breathtaking Carmel Mountains. In Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee. But most of all, I have left my heart with the Morrises, and the Starks, and the Wiels, and all the other families and friends I've met and grown to love in Raanana. I am so blessed to have had an experience that makes saying goodbye to a land and a people so hard.

But hey, this isn't all sappy and sad and cute, because hello, international travel is involved, which gets messy. Luckily, I had a wonderful day yesterday with the family in my last few hours in Israel. We ate dinner, watched TV, laughed at YouTube videos, stalked Jeni's Laker Girl days online, and had some emotional, heartwarming moments, including the reading of a beautiful and touching poem that Esther wrote for me.

I woke up this morning to say final goodbyes to Sarah, who brought me mini hallah bread to celebrate Shabbat on the plane (literally the cutest), Goody and Eric, who took care of me and fed me while the Morrises were gone, and the whole family. It was tearful for sure.

My mom and Jeni drove me to Ben Gurion with only like three wrong turns, which is pretty solid. I stepped into the airport this morning with four bags (yes, four, don't judge) and tried to roll/push/drag all of these bags through security. Of course, I broke my toe yesterday (not exaggerating) and I'm super sad, because duh I'm leaving, so I'm limping and crying as I roll up with my baggage, both literal and emotional. I walk up to the main guy and he starts interrogating me. Not questioning--interrogating. 

So I'm telling him my name, my destination, yada yada, and then he either starts getting very curious or very suspicious because the questions get a little pointed.

"Who did you stay with?"

*cue sobs*

Me: "The Morrises."

Him: "What are their names? Do they have kids?"

*gasping for air*

Me: "Ronnie, Esther, Michal, Ariella, Nava, Atara, Akiva, and Orit."

Okay at this point, if I can rattle off eight Jewish names without blinking, you'd think they'd let me through. But noooo of course not.

Him: "What were you doing here? "

Me: "Research at IDC Herzliya."

Him: "What was the research on?"

Me in my head: "Ohhhhh I've got him now!!!!!" 

Me out loud: "Counterterrorism."

Mhm that's right, what now

But he doesn't look like he's buying it. He literally looks at me like this--

So then you guys--oh my god I'm about to crack up writing this--he's like "So did you know Hebrew before you came? Do you know any now?"

I swear to God, I got all proud. I was like--

and I kinda scoffed, "well I mean I'm not fluent or anything--" and I was literally about to start giving him my vocabulary when he moved onto another question. What was I thinking?!!!!?? I literally know how to say yes, no, and hallah; did I think I was going to convince him I was Israeli!!!?? (Even though I clearly am.)

But what was weird and kinda laughable was this guard's confusion at my reason for being here. He realized I didn't know Hebrew and wasn't Jewish, and he could not understand why I'd come. And I just kinda wanted to be like, dude!! Israel is freaking LEGIT, of course I'd come here!!

But I didn't want to get on his bad side even more so I kept quiet. 

So then he's literally talking to all these people all over carrying my passport with him, and I'm just standing there. He finally comes back and says, "all right Aubrey, follow me."

I literally almost broke down again--extra screening?! Really?!!!

So I corral my four bags, and try to follow him (he was walking so fast), and guess what--HE BROUGHT ME TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE. LITERALLY HELPED ME BYPASS EVERYONE. I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT. I COULDN'T BREATHE. 

He looked at me like--

And said, "have a safe flight" then handed me off to the security counter.

And I was like, 

You're probably like, "why the heck did you get priority?" and I wish I could reply,

But in reality, Jeni knew someone in Israeli TSA (literally Jeni just hooks me the eff up) and he promised to try and help me.

Of course, I didn't bypass everything they still had to check all of my carry-ons (oh welp, there's my underwear) and check everything for bomb residue (even my Bible--seriously), but I got through and got coffee and was able to try and hold back my tears in peace. I'm scared because what if I cry and they think I'm guilty about something and question me more. So I'm like 

No no no, I'm fine, I'm fine

As I wait for my flight, this is a great time to say thank you. Thank you to the Morrises, for treating me like a daughter and a sister. Thank you to every individual who has made this an eye-opening, fascinating, once-in-a-lifetime summer. And thank you to every person who has read this blog, or thought of me, or prayed for me while I've been abroad. And don't be too sad--I'm studying abroad next spring in India, Brazil, and South Africa, so Aubrey's Wanderlust will be back and ready next January!! Until then, I'll update with any mini trips I take this semester and I'll give you the lowdown on the Stoddard Costa Rica Trip in a few months. Thank you so much, everyone, for all of your love and support.

This isn't the end.

Shalom, and go in peace,

Aubrey Noelle

Straddling Two Continents

As my time in Israel winds down (leaving next week!!! WOW!), I find myself increasingly attempting to manage my affairs both here and in the US. Here, I'm handling last minute projects that are being assigned when my wandering thoughts reduce my office knowledge to--

Cleaning the house in preparation for the return of the fam--

And making last-minute visits to friends in the neighborhood and saying goodbye to the flow of exiting interns. I watch all my American-bound friends leaving like--

KIDDING.

Meanwhile, half of my brain is focused on everything I'll have to deal with upon my own return to Boston. Studying for the LSAT and looking at my practice scores like--

Participating in virtual club meetings over Skype and email in which all the other participants are super prepared and I try to act intelligent like--

Not to mention packing (LOL), figuring out rooming situations back at school, attempting to figure out how I'm going to get to my hotel room the first night I get back since the dorms don't open until 12 hours after I land--yeah. When I found out about that, I was like--

Regardless, I've made a pact with myself to savor these next couple of weeks and prepare myself adequately for the insane semester I have ahead of me. But that doesn't mean I don't have time for "Army Wives" (season 6 now).

OBSESSED

Life is good, guys!!! And while I'm being stretched into the splits trying to keep my feet in two places at once... I'm enjoying the wrapping-up of this crazy adventure and the anticipation of beginning a new school year.

Yippee!

Aubrey Noelle

Wadi Rum and the Ride Home

Oh my god. I would have written this post yesterday upon my return home, but my blood was boiling and my eyes were drooping too much to compose a comprehensive account.

The night at the Bedouin campsite was pretty wonderful. A full moon shone in a sky dotted with multi-colored stars. The resort-style camp sits in the middle of a nature reserve, solitary and isolated, so no lights spoiled the view. Kajsa, a new friend of ours, and I climbed up a mountain on the side of the camp to see the panorama.

Even though my alarm was set to wake up for the sunrise, I got lazy and slept in. Oh well.

I finally rolled out of bed to eat a delicious breakfast of hummus, pita bread, and the most delicious olive oil ever. Then, we climbed into trunk beds lined with benches to explore the Wadi Rum desert.

We drove away from every semblance of civilization to see the unearthly rock structures and blazing sand.

"Where the heck am I?"

It honestly felt post-apocalyptic. It was about 110 degrees outside, and only lizards and camels roamed the sand.

Hey there, camel

Panorama!

We wandered into a cool, natural cave..

Saw a mushroom-shaped rock...

And beheld gigantic mountains that looked like melting candles.

After a couple of hours of exploration, we jumped into a shuttle to get back across the border through the town of Aqaba. Our driver had some eyebrow-raising comments on the miraculous success of monarchies and interesting observations about his country.

Driver: "The only reason we have peace is because of our king. Monarchies are the best."

Me: 

Mhm okay I see. 

Aqaba was a city in development. Money pours in from Gulf countries and even the United States to build up new housing complexes and city centers. Lots of propaganda spouting from our driver... I couldn't tell if he whitewashing all the problems with this Jordanian city... Or if it really was as perfect as it seemed. We never actually got out of the car, but here's a picture through the windshield.

Aqaba was clean, kind of empty, and lined with palm trees and beautiful buildings. It actually reminded me of Palm Springs sort of! It's hard to compare the places and sights and experiences I have here to things back home; I don't want to "cheapen" the uniqueness and singularity of my time here. However, I do want to try and relate what I see and hear and feel in this region of the world in a way that makes sense. So, there ya go!

Our group made the same walk across the deserted expanse of no-man's-land back to Israel. Kajsa got questioned a little harshly (they asked for her grandfather's name) but I skated across with no issues. 

me #strutting back to Israel

After a quick lunch, Kajsa and I walked to the bus station for our 5-hour bus ride back to Tel Aviv.

Do you really think it was uneventful? Do you?

Kajsa and I sat down in some seats near the front of the bus, and within minutes, a random girl came up and told us to get out of her seat.

Kajsa and I looked around at all the empty seats around us like,

But this young lady insisted we move. And even asked that we show her our tickets to prove we had bought them???!!!

So we got up and sat in the seats right behind her, eyeing her the entire time like--

We settled into our seats for about an hour, picking up a few more passengers as we made our way to Tel Aviv. 

Then--I kid you not--I got roused out of a nap with a tap on the shoulder, and I was told I was in someone's seat.

WHAT. 

Kajsa and I were slightly annoyed--

But we decided that since everybody was so concerned with sitting in the exact seat printed on their tickets, we'd go back to seats 50 and 51, which were the numbers on our tickets. Only... all the seats were full.

And four people were simply sitting in the aisle.

Let me say that again.

Kajsa and I had paid twenty-five dollars each for seats on an over-booked bus.

(Cue the constantly-recurring question of, "Is this abnormal or are we just spoiled Americans?")

How could this be?

Well, when Israeli soldiers are dressed in their uniforms, they're allowed to get on the bus for free. However, this means that sometimes they'll get onboard buses that have already sold out. Meaning that people who paid money for their seats sit in the aisle. 

In. The. Aisle. 

Some guy insisted that Kajsa and I just kick the people in our seats out because "f*ck them," but we realized the futility of this. Everybody would be kicking everybody off until they got to a soldier in his or her seat. So, Kajsa and I decided to bite the bullet and just occupy the floor... Not with any silence or acquiescence of course. Did you really think we'd sit nicely, quietly, lady-like?

Many loud sighs, lots of almost-shouted , open-ended comments ("I guess we will just SIT ON THE GROUND THEN"), and multiple pictures filled the bus as the onlookers sat uncomfortably.

That picture above is Kajsa and me literally laying in the aisle because we were pretty damn exhausted!!!!!!!

Three hours after being resigned to the ground, two people got off the bus, so Kajsa and I sprawled across some seats. 

I got on my next bus--IN A SEAT--and after another hour and a half, I was finally, finally, FINALLY home. I took a quick shower, then passed the eff out. 

Today, I will be sitting on the couch for 12 straight hours because I need to remember what it is like to not sit on a floor. I'll call it a sanity day. Back to the grind tomorrow.

And with that, I end another blog entry and get back to reality. 

With much love,

"My feet SURE ARE SORE" Aubs

From the Hills to the Office

Just realized that my title is actually composed of the titles of two (amazing) shows--probably because I'm writing this as I watch The OC. Classic.

Saturday was my last day in Haifa and in the Carmel National Park... Hilarious and confoundingly frustrating. We woke up and took a taxi to the hiking trail. We asked the (non-English-speaking) taxi driver to take us to Beit Oren Junction, which is where our trail began. Kajsa and I showed him a map with "Beit Oren Junction" stamped in bold letters right in the center. He was unbelievably confused, until we conceded that he could just drive us to the University, which was probably a two and a half hour walk from Beit Oren Junction.

"University???" He inquired with confusion.

"University," we insisted.

Our driver:

Finally--after minutes of conversing--our driver exclaimed, "OHHHHH. University!!"

Us:

Yeah. Sure. Not like we just said that.

We got to the University and by chance happened to run into some of the park rangers. We told them we were trying to get to Beit Oren Junction. 

"Where???" the rangers inquired.

"Beit. Oren. Junction."

Rangers:

Nope. Doesn't exist.

IT. WAS ON. OUR MAP.

Finally--after minutes of trying to convince them it existed--the ranger had an epiphany. "OHHH. BEIT OREN JUNCTION."

AHHH.

He directed us on our 1-hour walk to Beit Oren Junction. 

Walk walk walk walk walk walk walk.

We came upon this crazy fortress in the middle of nowhere with tons of wire and scary looking towers. I read a posted sign, and found out it was a prison. Obv took out my phone to take a cool picture. As soon as I snapped my camera, a bolted door to the fortress swung open. Three men in Kevlar rushed out and commanded that I delete the picture immediately. I've never felt more like a stupid American tourist.

I apologized profusely, turned away completely humiliated, then twisted back around and asked, "by the way... Do you know where Beit Oren Junction is?"

Worth a shot.

It had been hours since we'd set off to start our hike, and we still hadn't found the trail. We ended up at the same horse stable we'd passed the day before and asked for directions to Beit Oren Junction. They told us we'd pass some cows up the road then find it.

You may have guessed it.

No cows. Turned back around.

#done

We finally gave up on finding the actual trail and just made our way to Ein Hod, an incredible artist colony carved into the hill.

Ein Hod Artist Colony

Looking at life through rose-colored glasses

Cafe Ein Hod, where we had lunch

A beautiful mural

We spent about two hours in the beautiful town then made our way back to Haifa. We celebrated our successful trip then all but skipped to the train station excited to get home.

Lol, yeah right.

No lights. Shuttered up. Completely empty. Sabbath.

I inquired of a bus driver passing by when the first train would arrive at Haifa Station.

"Eight. Six." He shrugged. "I don't really know."

So done with this.

Another random Israeli person came over to give us more information. "Six and half. Eight. Four. Don't know." It seemed like a lost cause until the guy found out we were American.

"AMERICA!!??" He exclaimed. "I love America!!"

He started to list his favorite American things.

"New York! Pennsylvania! Michigan! NBA!"

It was like a scene out of Anchorman.

He followed us as we wandered to a bus station attempting to locate running transportation.

"California! Canada!

(That last one wasn't American but we decided to let it go.)

He finally left us alone as we jumped on a tram.

But then Ahmoudi (another Israeli friend) latched on. "America!!!!? I love America!!!!"

Me and Kajsa:

Our lack of interest prompted Ahmoudi to ask if we were lesbian (no, we aren't) and if we had Facebook (ohhh no, so sorry).

As a tram official hopped on the train to make sure riders had paid, our delinquent friend Ahmoudi slipped off. Thank God. The official checked my card to make sure I had paid the $2 fare (which, duh, I had) when he looked at me with a suspicious glance. "You didn't pay."

I swear, I went ballistic.

"I PAID. THE MACHINE BEEPED. I PUT IN MY CARD. I PUT IN FIVE SHEKELS THEN TWO SHEKELS."

"You mean seven shekels," the official smirked.

"I GO TO HARVARD. I KNOW WHAT FIVE PLUS TWO IS."

(K didn't say that last part, but I was thinking it)

I literally had tears in my eyes. 

"I CAN SHOW YOU THE TEN CENTS TO SHOW YOU I PAID. I SWEAR TO GOD. THE MACHINE BEEPED."

I don't think the official was very familiar with hysterical teenage girls so he kind of just sidled away and left me and Kajsa alone with our frustration and exhaustion. 

From the tram, we got to a running bus, and I finally-FINALLY-got home!!! Thank you, Lord!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After ten and a half hours of sleep, I woke up to get to work. It was productive, and I'm about three day away from finishing my entire paper (!!!) 

This is my last full week with the family (so sad), and I can't wait to enjoy it with them. I'm over halfway through my summer... Crazy!!!

With love,

Happy-to-be-Home Aubs