Once Again, this time with feeling.

It's a little after 5am and I am sitting in the Dan lounge at Ben Gurion Airport.  Sadly, it has become a sort of second home. I'm not alone. There are a quite a number of zombified fellow travelers enjoying the stale rolls and running white cheese. I'm off to Barcelona to learn to be a leader (obviously we are slow learners as this will take more than a week) and then I'm to visit Gdansk, Poland for a few days. The Poland trip is to help me appreciate the weather here in Israel.


It is a sad place this lounge.  The lighting is dim so as not to stress one's tired eyes, there is mindless commercial TV babbling in the background and, of course, the glutteral  staccato rhythm of Hebrew. It is a language for giving orders. It is great for yelling at kids. Which is what the tired mother is is now doing to her bored two year old.  As a language it is also wonderful for shouting into cellphones and calling the hevreh (band of friends) over. There always seem to be bands of hevreh traveling together. I wonder where they are going. I don't think I have ever traveled with a hevreh.  Perhaps it is time to give it a try.  At least there would be someone to watch my bag and keep my seat when I go to the restroom.