How does one know that it’s time to go home?
The mind is a wonderful yet mysterious element. It observes, collects data and impressions, analyzes, concludes and takes action. Constructs behaviors. Forms relationships. But it also uses some forms of deception, and it finds alternatives and replacements. It learns to live with missing things, missing people. It learns to cope with difficult situations. It helps one live in harmony with one’s environment. It’s a master of cognitive dissonance. The ability to form the bridges between ones desired environment and the unavoidable and undeniable reality. Cognitive Dissonance is a powerful element of our ability to live in any environment outside of the mythical paradise. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance).
Rationalizing ones environment is a necessity. Without this skill, it would be extremely difficult for anyone to live away from home, from close family and friends, from familiar foods and customs, from anything outside the realm of the paradise. Paradise, in my opinion can be defined as childhood. The home where one grew up, the faces of loved ones, the smells of a favorite food. For me, the smell of my grandmother’s linen, her smiling face, her chicken soup are building blocks of paradise. My mother’s hug, my father’s smile, my sister’s commanding voice, and my brother trying to explain some complex theory in laymen terms… Heaven.
I could probably make a list of people, places, foods which construct my own personal paradise. But that would probably be too long and too boring. Plus, it would be too personal. I’m sure everyone reading this can relate to it. Can you construct your own list?
And there, two and a half years ago, my family and I left our little paradise behind and came here, to Beijing, to take part in something big.
Last Friday we were invited to dear friends at the Israeli embassy. A Friday evening, Festival of Sukkot meal. And there I was, standing there, with a few other Israelis, a few other Jews, some I’ve never met before, many I consider my good friends. I stood there, looking at the set dinner table, with the candlesticks, with the large braided Challah (the special and delicious bread Jews bake for the Sabbath and the Holidays), the wine bottles, the colorful salads and appetizers. And guess what: in an instant, I was in paradise, my well constructed cognitive dissonance disappeared, I was stripped of my protecting walls and defenses, and the feeling of yearning overtook me by surprise. I wanted to go home.
I would never know which came first – the cause or the effect. Did it hit me because we are going home? The answer is inconsequential and unimportant. Even irrelevant. But something was resolved something in my mind. I was ready to go. When one leaves a place, he or she always leave something behind. A part of their personality, a part of their heart. Friends, places, tastes and smells. In answer to your question – no, they can’t be reproduced reliably. Only a cheap imitation would create for me the environment I’m leaving here. I’m leaving behind many friends, Israeli and Chinese. My children are leaving behind teachers, close friends, customs. We are also taking it with us. China will become part of us for as long as we live.
Ricky and Yossi, you have provided me with a taste of paradise, that I have so cleverly buried for so long. Thank you. I hope we’ll be friends for life. Same for Vered and Michael, Einav and Yaniv, Yaniv’s parents, David and Darren, and of course his excellency Israeli Ambassador to China Mr. Amos Nadai, thank you.
I crave my own little paradise now, I yearn for it. I am ready to go home.
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