Have you ever stood on the border of two countries and felt like you’re between two very different worlds? It’s different went you’re driving or flying from place to place, but when you’re on foot, you get to experience just how close you are in a different sort of way. Last week, I took a trip to the south of Israel. The beautiful beach town of Eilat is a popular vacay destination for Israelis and foreigners alike. I decided to take the bus 
to the beach closest to the border, Princess Beach, so that I could see just what it was like “on the other side.” I wasn’t feeling so hot, so I knew that I wouldn’t make the trek that day, but I just wanted to feed my curiosity slightly. Through the checkpoint and crossing was Taba, Egypt, another coastal tourist town with many Bedouin inhabitants. As I approached, an Israeli soldier came my way and I asked him what was on the other side. He said, “Beautiful beaches, Mt. Sinai…Egypt! You can go if you’d like.” I told him that I’d wait for another day. Just what I would need – to find myself somehow stuck in Egypt. I like adventure, but not THAT much!…
I really like this picture of the camel. I have to admit that it’s not mine. I got it off of the stock.xchng website. I believe (or at least hope) that I am within the legal bounds of using it since I’m not trying to sell it. Anyway, back to the land of camels…
Moments of nostalgia: thought I’d give a quick little recap of the funniest and most memorable moments from my classroom when I taught in Budapest. Because I taught English to about 150 students ranging in age from 6 to 12 years old, we ran the gamut with great quotes and lost in translation experiences. Here are some that come to mind:
I like taking walks. I like the feeling of walking outside my door and being suddenly reminded that there is a world out there – a big one – and that the world inside of my little room or my little mind isn’t all there is, though there are times I have to fight to get rid of that perspective. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. Some days I feel like I can relate with Solomon, and get trapped in an overwhelming “everything is meaningless.” Those are tunnel days. And then there are other David-like days when I feel blasted to and from the tunnel at the speed of light several times within several hours. But when I took this picture about a year ago in Budapest, I was struck by the graffiti. I know, I know. For some, graffiti is controversial. It can deface property, represent gangs, blah blah blah. But what I see is color. And artwork. Newness. Mess. Collage. Hope. Someone saying “I’ve been here.” In the midst of my tunnel and your tunnel, it’s a bit comforting to know that someone has been there. So next time you don’t see the light soon enough, look around inside the tunnel. The writing on the walls will point to the Someone who is there with you. Bring a can of spray paint because there are surely others who will follow after you into the tunnel and will need your beautiful graffiti in the midst of their disillusionment.
A picture really is worth a thousand words. By nature I’m not the most disciplined gal, so maintenance is not my forté and maintaining a blog has not been my idea of a good time ever since it became a rite of passage. But I discovered something recently when I was sorting through old photos. That is, when I find a picture I have an uncanny ability to be able to think of a thousand stories to go along with that picture. So the old hag in the photo posted here reminded me of the importance of countenance. Sound harsh? Well, she probably didn’t want to look like that. She just didn’t realize that all those years of non-laughter and stoic expression didn’t do much to help her ‘glow’ in the latter years. :) Even medical studies have shown the benefits of telling your face that you’re happy. In About.com’s article, 
What is it about playing dress up that we enjoy so much? Perhaps it’s our opportunity from childhood to explore our imaginary worlds and leave room for innocent fantasy. Though the social acceptability factor kicks in as we get older, the desire to have an alter ego doesn’t automatically wane, or there wouldn’t be whole stores dedicated to helping you find the right costume. When I was teaching English in Hungary, I p
articipated in a carnival at my school and thoroughly enjoyed putting together a makeshift costume so that I could be Mary Poppins. It made my day, actually. Just the spoonful of sugar that I needed. From Halloween festivities for kids to themed parties for adults, the desire to dress up and be somebody, or be somebody else, is alive and kickin’. I think it’s okay in spurts. Now if I see you out and about with a new costume every day, it might become a little freaky. :) But keeping our imaginations alive and feeding the creative inside of our souls might just do us a huge favor and give us greater glimpses of who we are. And the world needs more of that: people who know who they are.
Moments of nostalgia don’t often get the best of me. If I’m honest, I’m either mostly caught up in the present moment, or actively dreaming of the near future. But there are those times when a sweet memory triggers my mind to remember “what it was like when…,” which, funny enough, is often not what it was like at all. Then again, there are times that I remember well. This is one of those times.