I'm sitting here in my first Israeli apartment, surrounded by boxes and bags, waiting for my moving truck. This is the first time I've properly sat here all week. I've been collecting boxes, shlepping and folding, throwing (not enough) things out and taking full cars of stuff to the new place. And my apartment is doing this crazy magic trick where I move more and more things out and yet it never looks less full.
|About 1/10 of my never-ending box-stravaganza|
I remember moving in here 3 years ago with around 5 big duffel bags. It is insane (and highly embarrassing) to realize how much I've accumulated these past years. But I had to turn this empty box into a home, and that I did.
I am moving to Tel Aviv today. I know it seems totally crazy, especially to you readers who don't know me or to those I haven't spoken to in a while. I have been the consummate Jerusalemite- heck, I even named my blog after my city! And I was certainly no fan of Tel Aviv in the past. But over the past years, that's changed. I know I don't blog as frequently as I did or should, but I'm a different Jordana than the one who made Aliyah. I'm still an observant Jew (that's a common question when people ask how I could possibly move to Tel Aviv.) I'm still a fervent, full- throated Zionist (and a right-winger, about to move to the city of the Left!) I'm still committed to staying in Israel for the long haul, with no plans to move back to the States (sorry, Mama.)
But this is where my road is taking me- a new city, new friends (keeping the old ones though, because I picked some good ones here in Jerusalem), a new job (pending!), a lovely new apartment with a new incredible roommate (after 3 years of living alone!) and oh yeah- the beach!
|It's true- I do!|
I leave behind the city I love most and the birthplace of a thousand stories. In my years visiting, Jerusalem was my anchor- it was where I landed and the place I knew best. I can get anywhere, find anything in this city. There is nowhere more diverse, beautiful, frustrating and real. I know that I will miss this city, its people and its stones every single day. I know that I will come back to visit, at first a lot, and then less. I know that when my Tel Avivi friends laugh about Jerusalem- its religiosity, its conflict, its otherness- I won't join in. I will be the defender of the Holy City in the White City- because if they only knew Jerusalem like I know Jerusalem, they'd fall in love too.
But it's time to go and start fresh now. It's time to feel the sand between my toes and sip cafe hafuch on Rothschild. It's time to stay out til 3 am and then hit up the huge kiddush in shul on Shabbat afternoon. It's time to hang out on rooftops and turn on the air conditioning! It's time for me to make the move. And find a new blog name too, huh?
|Saying goodbye to the Cabana|
If life is a book with many chapters, and I'm on to the next one. Keep reading to find out what's in store!
Jordana (originally of) Jerusalem