Some impressions and thoughts on coming back to Israel after so long:
Haifa is really beautiful. The air feels like some vital nutrient my body's been woefully missing and craving for years, but settling for something artificial in its stead.
The morning light feels "correct".
The pigeons constantly threaten to fly in through my open window, only to turn suddenly, within its frame and disappear; they're loud, both in wing flapping and coos.
The word that keeps coming to mind when I try to describe what being back feels like, is "normal"; it's both disappointing and promising.
There are so many Arabs here. It's honestly wonderful. There's no apparent suspicion of interpersonal animosity or awkwardness, only warmth, a sense of community and equity, and an apparent, almost passionate desire to support one another, like family: Arab and Jew alike. The outside world's accusations of apartheid feel laughable from here. On a separate note, I want to learn Arabic; it seems like the right thing to do, and a considerate way to honour this sense of fraternity/sorority.
It's not heaven, not by a longshot. I don't think it's the greatest place in the world. I've no desire to wax poetic about it, in fact, to do so would feel like a dishonest disservice; if you love someone, truly love them, it's not because they're perfect, but because, in their imperfection, they're perfect for you. I may be falling in love again with this strange, normal, troubled, embattled, misunderstood place that nostalgia had, for so long, rendered a series of flat, simplistic elements.
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