What's Next?

That's a fairly profound question but one that I have been asking myself a lot lately.  So much has changed recently, and I have these huge question marks floating around in my head.  There's nothing much to complain about, but the uncertainty is startling.

Exciting news is that I got accepted to Ben Gurion University's Masters of Social Work program which starts in October.  Scary part of that is...well, there's a lot.  First of all, all the classes are in Hebrew (with the exception of a few taught by the department head who is American and who refuses to teach in Hebrew...I'll be signing up for A LOT of his courses!).  I realize that I'll manage.  Hell, I've managed for this long, and I've not only survived, I've prospered.  Yes, I shock myself daily with my abilities in a foreign language, but I also get frustrated daily when I get tongue tied and can't fully express myself.  You really feel stupid, for lack of a better way to describe it, when you're first mastering a new language.  You firstly start to lose your superior grasp of your mother tongue, forgetting common words that you just haven't used in awhile, and you secondly don't have enough traction in the new language to fully show who you are and display your level of intelligence.  It is frustrating and humbling for someone like myself who has always been a "talker" and a "communicator."  Which in its own way probably means that I'll be fine and that I just need to give myself time.

Second scary issue tied to uni is that of money.  I'm very fortunate that the State of Israel will be paying for the vast majority of my degree program as part of my new immigrant benefits.  However, this is a "retraining" program, meaning that I have to take a semester or two of bachelors level classes to complete my BA in Social Work.  Two degrees for one?  I'll take that.  But that also means that the government won't pay for all of this first year.  Also, even when they do pay for it, I have to pay for everything upfront and they reimburse me a couple of months later.  What does that mean?  I have to apply for student loans (in Hebrew), I have to find scholarships (in Hebrew), and I have to figure out how to balance a work schedule that will both allow me to study and allow me to eat and have a place to live.  This is such a different situation from where I was a year ago.  And I get that there are challenges in the beginning of any new adventure, but different money in a different language is super unsettling.  Oh well, that's what the rest of my day is devoted to - figuring out finances for the next year and trying not to cry from the stress.

I have also started teaching English lessons.  Through the great power of Israeli networking, I was introduced to someone from the Ministry of Education who has hired me as a teacher for summer school programs and who has also given me the opportunity to teach English private lessons.  This is a huge breath of fresh air, as it's much more in line with what I want to be doing, and it's a much better use of my professional skills than selling clothes.  I'm loving it, even if I did make a little brat cry last week in my class and even if it feels a little up in the air at this point as to what will happen once the school year starts.

All of this uncertainty and all of these question marks are directly impacting the thing that I want to do most at this point, which is visit home.  I'm dying to be in Arkansas with my mom and dad and to see friends and to eat food that I miss and to be in my childhood home.  At this point, I can only stay positive and hope that I can fly home at the end of September before classes start.  Hell, I may just do it on a whim, like an Israeli, and figure out the consequences later.  Which is probably what will happen.

And for now?  It's off to the bank for a fun round of Israeli bureaucracy.  I think I'll need a strong drink tonight, even though it is the "saddest day of the Jewish calendar" as we remember the destruction of the two Temples in Jerusalem. I mourn by drinking, as I have shown myself and the rest of the world this past month and a half.  So, cheers to all, and get ready for our next post, all about the absurdities of working retail in Israel. 

This is That Post I've Been Dreading to Write

It's been a hot minute since y'all have heard from me in this venue, and I've been dreading this post.  It's obvious that even when you're living the dream, there will be trying times, and the last two months have been the most trying thus far.  I'm tempted to say in my entire life. 

As most of you know, my dear, sweet, precious Princess Pepper died at the beginning of June.  It was very sudden, and her kidneys just gave out due to old age.  I was very lucky to spend an intimate last day with her, and I was even right next to her when she left me.  I'm weeping now, and the post has barely begun.  I can't describe the pain of losing my best friend, my security blanket, my source of unconditional love.  She is still with me, I feel, but it is so weird and hard to be in my house without her.  I still turn and look for her from time to time.

The first days after her death were the worst.  I couldn't stay at home because of the silence.  I missed hearing her little feet on the tile floor and her heavy pug breathing.  I missed that face looking for me when I came home.  I missed that warm body next to me at night.  I'm still having a hard time sleeping without her, but things get a little easier each day.

This enormous personal tragedy really magnified for me the fact that I'm in a totally different world.  It really shook me to realize that I am here alone alone now.  I could always answer people with, "I'm not alone - I have my dog!"  But now?  I can't say that.  My strongest connection to home was suddenly not with me, and I felt like I was floating out in space without any way to tangibly feel home.  It's a scary feeling, but it's gradually becoming liberating in a way.  It doesn't make things any easier, but now, I'm standing on my own two feet, completely by my own will.  My only choice is to keep going and, as we say in Hebrew, to keep "doing/making life."

But, I totally learned that I'm anything but alone here.  My friends here wrapped around me like family and showed me endless love and care.  They came to hold me while I cried, they fed me, they got me out of the house.  They called, they wrote.  They did anything they could to support me, and I was showered in hugs and kisses.  I knew these people here were special, but I didn't realize how much.  The outpouring of love from people back home and around the world via Facebook-land also touched my heart.  I didn't realize how many people knew of and loved Pepper.  I'm a lucky, lucky human being, that's for sure.

And here I am now, embarking on a new adventure, without my partner in crime physically next to me.  Her memory and her impact on my life will always be apparent, however.  How can it not be?  I'm blown away daily at how much a small, fat ball of fur changed my life forever.  I'm also a little scared about introducing new people into my life because they won't feel the magic of Pepper.  I hope I can bring her spirit and her character into me so that others can somehow understand just how special she was to me.  I also hope that everyone can be as lucky as me and can experience this type of beautiful love that exists between a girl and her dog.

Much more to update on, and now that the hard part's over, maybe I can write more frequently.  Love to you all.