This is the first year I think a November 25th has passed quite so quietly. For the last decade I’ve had a person in my life – typically a partner or female co-worker, that is usually giddy with joy of the notion that it is only a month to Christmas. Certainly, in a country that does not celebrate the birth of Christ, even in a very commercialised and secular way means that the typical suspects barely register Christmas as a thing. Yet, talking to one native this weekend, apparently this does not stop them using Santa as a gift giving excuse – simply that this falls typically on Halloween.
Still, having survived the rains here, the weather has returned to a very pleasant 33 degrees for lunch today sat under the trees. Tis very much a shame on those occasions not to go to the beach, cooler full of iced beer and start the ritual burning of meat flesh.
The last fortnight has been one in which a lot of soul searching has been conducted. In a previous blog post, I wrote about the various stages of culture shock and I think that it is far to say that I’m well into the adjustment phase and starting to make in-roads into mastery. Granted true mastery will take years if not decades but my language skills have progressed to the extent that I can talk to taxis drivers and shop keepers are happy to help me improve my vocab. This has no doubt made me more comfortable in being outside and allowed me to break free of the cabin fever that has been plaguing me in recent weeks.
The thesis corrections have been an excuse to hide behind, but the truth is when you spend an entire weekend in front of a computer screen to only return to work post-weekend if feels like your life is passing you by. With this in mind, I took to the wonders of the internet to make someone introduce me to a friend in Tel Aviv. Within 2 hours of my initial message, I was in contact with a native born and bred Israeli from a different university – turns out that the scientific world can be a very small one. It turned out that plans were afoot for a girly night out, but I was more than welcome to tag along.
With the prospect of sitting alone with a 300 page document for company, the option of beer clearly won out. And so, some hours later I found myself in an “Irish bar”, which is Europe’s imagining of a pub – in that it has table service, booths and Guinness. Of course, the guest beer of the night was Hobgoblin, so a litre has ordered immediately.
After the inevitable Israeli time delay between setting a time and date the night was most enjoyable. I was ripped the piss out of for being a Brit and not drinking proper. This quickly stopped when I pointed out that I was swapping drinks between Hobgoblin (4.5 %) and Leffe (6.5 %) compared to their > 4 % lager, that I was still perfectly sober compared to them and that if they watched closely I was keeping almost exactly one sip behind the fastest drinker on the table.
Still a dancing night out with the girls, whilst feeling like the gay best friend the entire night was most enjoyable and saw me get to sleep somewhere around half past 5.
I’m very glad that I decided to be pro-active and go out, just meet people and to hell with making a tit of myself. It was completely needed to kick start optimism again after wallowing for some time. The recent woes happened to coincided with reading a post from the Huffington Post – 14 Signs Your Perfectionism Has Gotten Out Of Control.
Previously, I’d never considered myself to be a perfectionist. I’d freely admit that I believed that if a job was worth doing then it was worth doing then it was worth doing well. I know I’ve never been much of a half-assed type. However, reading through this post, it didn’t just tick a couple of boxes – it was like reading my life story. It was like a fortune-teller had looked into my soul. Worse still, there were aspects of my personality that I’d never even considered were drawn into it. From a propensity for procrastination, my highly critical judgmentalism of others to an intense fear of failure and rejection completely stopping myself being exposed or vulnerable resulting in a failure to communicate in all my previous relationships. Furthermore, I recognised that my chosen professional field actively encourages such critical behaviour and sometimes joy in others’ failings – after all misery loves company.
What actually turned my thinking around was a very simple poem. Now I am not one at all for art or literature, so to find comfort in poetry was surprising in itself.
YouTube link
This poem that I had stumbled upon in some dark corner of the internet was suddenly speaking to my soul. Suddenly, in the space of 5 minutes (and in the subsequent viewings) it became evident that being alone is something that can be embraced and not something to feared and eradicated as quickly as possible.
In the last week having embraced just being outside – even if it is alone has resulted in some wonderful conversations with some very odd people. At a bar I found out that institutional racism here has resulted in some disregarding the views and existence of the Spanish – referring only to them as Palestinians. I’ve talked about BitCoins and data mining on a bus. I’ve talked growing up with rocket alarms and gas masks with a taxi driver. And a few more besides.
Very quickly after the aforementioned poem, I also came across the fluentin3months.com website. A detailed account of an Irish man that set about learning a foreign language which inadvertently turned into travelling the world for 10 years. Particularly, his learnt life lessons page and TED talk just convinced me that people around the world are largely the same. Most people are happy to help a person out, most will happily have a conversation with those that are willing to engage, fundamentally people are good.
Sometimes, you just need to be reminded.
Sometimes, these reminders kick start your thirst for adventure. Sometimes, they remind you why you make these crazy decisions in life. Why exactly you’d throw yourself at a culture that you know nothing about.
The last week have been some of the most proactive of my life. The realisation that life will give you nothing, but then, why do you need to sit there waiting for something to come your way when there’s a whole world of people, fun and adventure to be had.
I think to a certain extent, I just needed to remember that I’m not that old. I don’t need to simply accept the hand that I’ve been dealt and settle. If I’m not going to places like Makhtesh Ramon (booked just before Christmas) now, when am I going to?
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