We arrived at 4:30 in the morning. When we deplaned,
we saw an Israeli attendant standing by the plane's door. I saw a pair of empty
wheelchairs behind her, but she told us very sharply that they were not for us.
She told us we had to walk a distance down a hallway where we would find
another attendant who would deal with us. Around several corners we came to the
beginning of a long concourse, where other disabled passengers were getting
into a golf cart. There was no room for us and the golf cart drove off leaving
us behind. This is where and when we lost our cool. Not one single airport
among all of those we'd passed through as we circumnavigated the planet greeted
us with the inconsideration we were met with here in our home country. Welcome
home world travelers! Some welcome! We had been met with deference and civility
and special consideration everywhere else. But this is Israel.
Our rough Israeli edginess had been smoothed over by
everyone else's pleasantness everywhere else in the world. It was time for us
to adopt that edginess all over again, now that we were back. The thought
crossed my mind that it was a mistake to have missed Israel so much. We
expressed our pique to the next attendant we saw, who called on her
walkie-talkie for another golf-cart and apologized for the rude reception we'd
received, but our smoldering thoughts were not doused by her words. Shortly
thereafter, another golf-cart rolled up and we were conveyed with an electric
purr to where everyone else had gathered for passport control. Here, an
attendant standing beside a wheelchair helped Razelle off the golf-cart and helped
her get comfortable in the wheelchair. We, as entering citizens, were beckoned
forward by the woman in the glass booth when she saw Razelle in the wheelchair,
so we didn't even get to or need to use our magnetic cards in the palm reader
that we had acquired on our way out of this same airport 121 days ago at the
beginning of our Odyssey. Onward we rolled to baggage claim where, without any
problems, every single one of our four bags came to us on the conveyer belt.
Our bags had circled the world and returned to their starting point, too, a slight
bit scuffed compared to their pristine condition at the outset, but without any
damage to them, for all the gorillas who'd stacked them in the bellies of all
the planes they'd been shoveled into and out of.
All that remained to truly complete our journey now
was to get back to Beer Sheva from the airport. Shalev was waiting for us in
the arrivals hall. He had been given leave from the army to come after us. We
embraced and smiles broadened all our faces. Shalev led us to where he'd parked
the car. The first thing I noticed was how dusty it was. I had forgotten how
dusty the air is where we live in the Negev Desert. Shalev asked if I wanted to
drive, but I let him do that. I wanted him to know we trusted him and I sensed
he was pleased to show he could be responsible. We reached home as dawn broke and
herded all our bags into the elevator and up to our apartment. Time to
decompress!
Four month's worth of traveling led us to where we
had started. It was odd to be in our home after so long a time away. We had
adjusted to calling each and every temporary accommodation all along our route
"home." But these walls around us now embraced us and welcomed us
back. Unpacking would wait until we had decompressed. Stories of our travels
jumbled together in the telling. Mail had accumulated. The house looked well
maintained. An infestation of moths had afflicted our stored food and needed
attention while we were gone. The smell of bug spray still lingered in the
cabinet. There was very little food in the house. We'd have to stock up again.
We had some laundry to do. But we welcomed all these with good cheer. Be it
ever so humble there's no place like home … Home Sweet Home.
Did this experience change us? Yes. Inwardly we knew
we had accomplished something monumental. No. We were back where we had started.
One thing did change worth mentioning. Razelle said our next trip has to be a
caravan trip through England and Scotland. I've always had the travel bug. Now
Razelle had caught it too. That made my day. In fact, it made everything worth
the effort.
No comments:
Post a Comment