Returning to Real Life
Intel provides its employees with a sabbatical so that they may return to work refreshed and ready to be productive again. I was skeptical that a month long trip away from the office would yield those results for me, but I was surprised that indeed, this was the case. I started my first days back at work with a new perspective on my life and my work. The trip had been a very meaningful one for me and when we got home, it got me thinking about the meaning of my day-to-day life. I'm not talking about the big question of "the meaning of life" or even "the meaning of my life," but rather, the much smaller question of what is the meaning of what I am doing in my life today (and the next day, and the next). What do I seek to accomplish and am I spending my time doing what I really want to be doing, or should be doing.
My life at Intel had devolved into an endless string of days filled with meetings that need to be attended and emails that needed responding to. On the one hand, it seemed like a silly way to spend one's waking hours, but I could also look at it from the point of view of what would be lost if I just stopped doing it. Of course the company would be fine without my attendance and my email responses, but as long as I was doing it, the value I provided was to be a conduit of information. I like to think I keep my little corner of the machine running a little smoother than it might otherwise. Even still, it got me to take a fresh look at my daily activities and perhaps to start making different choices about where to spend my time and attention.
Doing Jewish
When we arrived in Israel, I was looking forward to, in the words of David Nesenoff, "doing Jewish." For me, on a simple level, that meant wearing a kippah (yarmelke) and eating kosher. It was interesting that in the beginning of our visit, this was not so easy. Of course it is easy to wear a kippah in a country full of Jews, half of whom are wearing kippot (plural of kippah). The real problem was eating kosher. In Tel Aviv and Haifa, non-hechshered restaurants were predominant (a hechsher is certification by a rabbinical authority that the food is indeed kosher). It took a lot of extra work to find kosher restaurants and a lot of extra driving or walking to get to them. We usually settled for something non-hechshered and just ate as we would at home: vegetarian and fish. But that led to a yarmulke problem as it was not appropriate to wear a kippah in a non-kosher restaurant, so we found ourselves taking our kippot off, or not putting them on in the first place, if we were headed to a restaurant. The whole thing felt very ironic to me that it would be so hard to "do Jewish" in a major city in Israel. Fortunately, things got better in Tiberius, as we were able to find kosher restaurants more easily and it seemed like there were more religious people around than not. Once we got to Sefat, the issue was completely resolved. It seemed that every restaurant was Lemahadrin (certified kosher beyond argument for everyone), and everyone wore a kippah, so it became uncomfortable to NOT wear a kippah, which suited us fine. following that was Masada, which being a National Park site, everything was kosher, and of course Jerusalem was nearly as easy as Sefat.Driving Like an Israeli
I found driving in Israel an enjoyable experience. I remember feeling similarly 29 years ago. It is a much different etiquette than in the U.S. The honking is just part of the deal and I never took offense at it and had some fun doing honking of my own. Our stress at not being able to navigate Sefat aside, the actual driving in Sefat was an exciting challenge that I found to be fun. The lesson can be brought home: don't take it too seriously and keep a smile on your face.Speaking Hebrew
I have for a while now felt that I wanted to become fluent in Hebrew. I have been partially motivated by a concern that, driven by a Leftism that seeks to protect and celebrate every minority except Jews, the U.S. might become a hostile environment for us, making emigration to Israel a necessity. From a more optimistic angle, I have also been motivated by the fact that in my industry, there are many Israeli companies and within Intel, there are many Israelis and offices in Israel. I have felt that it would be fun to be able go converse with my colleagues in Hebrew, and to know what they are saying among themselves. And finally there is a lot of Hebrew spoken at shul and I would like to be a part of it. During this trip, I almost felt that I could converse in rudimentary Hebrew, but I didn't have the confidence to even try. It seems a shame and though I don't know how soon I will return there, I am even more motivated to learn the language.Love for the Land and the People
Parts of Israel are beautiful, parts are ugly. However, I cannot help but feel a strong affection for all of it. I feel a sense of ownership and belonging and so much pride that this country exists and functions at such a high level. The fact that some parts of it are left in a state of decay or poor aesthetics, I have to chalk up to priorities with time, money and human energy.Natalie observed that I was exhibiting a severe case of Ahavas Israel (love for one's fellow Jew). There is something about being among "my people" that causes me to cut them more slack than perhaps they deserve, at least by American standards. Perhaps it's easy as a tourist for a few weeks and I would feel differently if I lived there. But it is a tenet of Judaism that we should all love one another and take care of one another, so I believe it is important to hang onto that feeling.
Happily, Sandra and I are in agreement that we must return to Israel again, and much, much sooner than another 29 years from now.