Tel Aviv the Flight is boarding (Flying home, 2008)

Sitting behind a family from Israel. Isrealis they were we sat back to back on the airport leather seats. I was there to use the power outlet nearby. They were waiting to board their flight to Tel Aviv. Supposedly. The South Airport officer, dressed in his blue uniform announced “Tel Aviv the flight is boarding”. The man sitting behind me, presumably the father of the group answered, “OK” and he continued to prattle on in Hebrew with his children and wife seated next to him.

The rasp and grating sounds of Ivrit were my peace, my solitude and counsel. What a beautiful language indeed, which I do not understand, but it sounds intelligible. First I heard Afrikaans, and I though they were bilingual South African Hebrews who now lived in Israel, but then it was not Afrikaans. It was not French or German either, but I swear I heard him eventually say “bon …. The flight is leaving”. Bon , beuno vamos, or bon, on y va?
They did left eventually, but not before they were joined by more members of their party. Two women came carrying duty free shopping bags, not fretting in the least bit to catch their flight. They talked and smiled and laughed all of them, sharing chocolates and reprimanding children before they actually walked to the gate. As their pleasant exclamations and warmth of their voices swathed me with joy I turned my head to look at man behind my right shoulder and he smiled.

Israelis, many of them I know in my life. Dror, bird of Freedom, Yael, first dance teacher and peer at school, Ze’eva and Illana my current dance teachers. And Itamar, the capoeira virtuoso. Isaiah too my friend whose heart is in Israel. My faith, my savior , born in the territory and of the nation, (the same nation?) two thousand and eight years ago.
So as I sit hear and wait to be productive, waiting till tomorrow when I may fly home, I ruminate on Israeli’s who have been and still are along my path.

Tel Aviv, the flight is boarding and probably boarded already.


2009 ON THE Flight from JFK to JHB, no long stopover in JHB overnight.

Ya Ribom, Ya Ribom, this song from the times we sang at the CJL, it is within me and floods me.