If I had followed my original plan for today (and by original I mean dating back to Wednesday or so), I would be on my way back from Masada and the Dead Sea in the south of Israel after a long but relaxing day. I'll be going on a different trip in June--but fortunately it will still be in a vehicle that can hold no more than five people, which is a rare treat having lived in a ten-person-sherut-filled universe for over a year and a half. I'm not really complaining because sheruts are quite cheap, and if they existed in the United States they would fill a major transportation void in a car-filled universe (at least I think so)...but I don't always want to travel in a group of ten.
Anyway, even more exciting than that, possibly, is my planned tour of Haifa next week--I'm going to visit all the places I've been meaning to visit but which are too close and convenient for me to have worked up that initiative until now. I'll visit the Stella Maris monastery, the Hecht museum on the Haifa University campus, and, most importantly, Elijah's cave, as well as ride the cable car. I'll be happy if I never take another trip around Israel as of now, but I'll be even happier after these two trips, though if a promising opportunity to go back to Jerusalem arose I would take it.
Readjusting to Haifa after my trip home has been more difficult than I thought it would be (especially considering that I thought that after spending only three weeks away, there would be no readjustment). First, I miss home. I miss being around people I've always known or known for years. Second, life here really happens in annual cycles. First, annually. The pilgrimage season begins in October and ends in July. In between, the Shrines are closed in alternation for cleaning. The largest section of staff (the bright young people who make up most of the cleaning and security departments) come and go in a year. Holy days are observed annually according to the solar calendar (or in the case of some, the lunar calendar, the strangeness to me of which will never go away completely). Then, monthly. New staff come. Then every other week--the pilgrims come, and there are evening talks and the pilgrim farewell, and the pilgrims go.
Everything is just so organized, and repetitive, and predictable, and maddening. When I was at home I was almost certain I would ask to stay a few extra months to close the gap between leaving Israel and starting graduate school. Now I'm looking for alternatives, though those are difficult to find. I would love to spend some time in a Spanish-speaking country, but this time I'd like to be doing something, and that's difficult. Even trying to sort out graduate school has become more complicated now that I'm aware that there are more options than I considered before. A Canadian I know was accepted to a Spanish translation graduate program in Spain (from English to Spanish, carrying a confusing imbalance of advantages and disadvantages for a native English speaker). I thought such a program would be more trouble than it was worth, until she told me how much it would cost, which is a small fraction of the American price tag, any place I might go. So, although it's a bit disturbing to slow my momentum when I was almost sure I would return to Milwaukee, and although I miss home, I'm looking into that. Graduate school will be way too much of an investment of time and money not to make the best and best-informed decision I know how to make.
Aside from how I can possibly deal with another Israeli summer (which is another reason I am hesitating to stay through next summer), these are the things that have been on my mind. I'm slated to stick around for nearly a year longer, yet, that doesn't feel very long, and I'm already preparing for departure. It's natural and good to be prepared and plan ahead but it feels a bit odd. I still have a while.
