Update #1

September 6, 2008
Yom Shabbat

Boston to London: I secured a window seat for myself, close to the bathroom as well, but was unexpectedly fortunate to be seated beside an old British traveller as well. There is nowhere this man has not been. He left England and didn't return until this past year for his retirement. He lived with his wife and young daughter on an island in the Indian Ocean for three years, Swaziland for six years, China for five years...the list goes on. And he was perfectly delighted to recount one story after another and the lessons he's learned until we reached our destination, where he gave me a kiss on the cheek and his e-mail address.

I left Matthew to wait for his wife and wandered into Heathrow airport at 5 a.m. There were four or five other people in Terminal 4, which feels exactly like a mall after hours, until people start showing up and it starts to buzz with sleepy foreign accents.The flight to Israel was filled with Orthodox Jews, young children, and one boring, snoring, Australian to my right. The juxtaposition after ten hours surrounded by polite Brits was striking.So Guy met me at the airport and we shoved our way through crowds of excited, irritable, loud Israelis to the train. It was on the train that I discovered a few of my siblings had conspired and taken over my ipod while I'd been packing. Ya'ara and Ilan's original choreography to T-Pain's 'Church' with snippets of Anis Mojgnai interspersed (and a few of my other favoritest people:). Besides the peanut butter and chocolate chips my mom hid in my pack, what else could I need to survive abroad?