Good Lord, what have I done?

My second night in Jerusalem was not a good one. I got into a big stew about “I don’t belong here”, “What the hell am I doing here”, “I am too old for this”, “I can’t do this”…etc. I stewed so much that I couldn’t sleep, gave myself a wicked headache and a tummy ache to boot. My imagination ran wildly through the dark hours in my hostel bed. In the morning, it was all I could do to force down a bowl of fruit cocktail without throwing up. I took another body and jaw clenching nap and then later in the morning my heart gained some courage and told my aching tummy to get a grip. I decided the word for the day was “plucky” and I got off my butt and wandered the streets of the old city. I figured I have to take ownership of the place and get out there and explore. Make it my city. After three hours of wandering, sight seeing, and gaining some much needed confidence, I felt much better.

The hero of this day was my hostel rommie Maxie (short for Maxiemiliane) from Germany. She too is studying at Hebrew U (a different campus though) and arrived three days before me and is in much the same boat. I think she figured out what was going on and did her best to be sympathetic and encourage me in her own way. She brought me pistachios. You can always win my loyalty with food.