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Hag Sameah All,

Happy Holidays on Purim, the Jewish/Israeli version of Halloween complete with costumes, parades and the sweet of the day, Hamantashen.( I had at least 4 in the last few days.)

For some reason I am not having an easy time writing this slice. Purim seems to be getting in the way. My Purim memories from my past here are fuzzy, but it was around Purim that I began to feel romantic about my living adventure in Israel.

I was here from 1979-80 on a one-year leave of absence from teaching English back home.

In Israel, I was accepted into an interesting program sponsored by World Union of Jewish Studies, offering 5 months of study in Hebrew and Israeli history in the desert city of Arad and then 7 months of work in your area of expertises somewhere in Israel where you were needed.

The aim of the program was that you would live for at least the full year here and leave more knowlegible and supportive of Israel. Ideally, the hope was that you might consider moving to Israel to live.

I was here for the year. My brother was already permanently connected to Israel. On his initial adventure here, he arrived as a volunteer on a kibbutz, fell in love and eventually married an Israeli woman. Even though they have been living in America for most of their married life, they are determined to own homes in both countries and spend more and more time here as their children get older.

For a brief time, between Purim and Passover, I tried on the idea of spending another year here. I began the process certain that I wanted to stay and then gradually I moved 180 degrees the other way, realizing that while I loved being a Jew here, my life was well established back in America.

I remember that feeling of believing that I could live in Israel and become a visitor in America. I remember a romantic sense of euphoria when I called home(a rare event then) to have my father investigate the possibilities of an extending my leave of absence for another year. By the time I heard back I had already decided to return home.

I don’t remember much about the process of that move from one end to the other, but my final decision left me certain that I needed to be where I could really communicate. It didn’t help matters that my Hebrew was not strong enough to sustain a real conversation and my effectiveness as a teacher came from being able to work with bilingual students and then kids who would be patient enough to work with English totally submerged in the unknown.

And for the past 12 years I have been back twice a year.

Ironically, just before we met, I was spending a parts of my summer vacations in Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico in writing workshops, feeling a strong connection to place there.

I haven’t lost my love for the SouthWest. We have been there together, but somehow being here for Purim, in the spring, with the sea just across the street. No regrets.