Week 10: We are on a relocation

This week marks two months since we left the country. A month of wandering in Costa Rica and a month of settling in Colombia. Time, like the longing, is deceptive and very nonlinear. On one hand, the weeks fly by, but on the other hand, it feels like it has been not just two months but an eternity - not in the sense of a long time, but in the sense of a completely different life cycle. What was before is fading away. This week, there were many signs that we are in relocation and not just on a long trip. The clearest sign is that we joined two WhatsApp groups for Ofri's kindergarten and Michael's class, and we need to get used to the nagging in Spanish – translating a message in the chat every few minutes just to make sure it’s another worthless message...

Finally, at the weekend, we separated from the mall... On Friday, Yoala and I went to the much-talked-about party - it promised and delivered. A huge venue with two and a half stages, electronic music, elaborate decor with giant screens, fire, water, and soap bubble effects. A local and international crowd with a sense of security and comfort because the place is closed and secured, and those inside paid enough so we don’t have to suspect them... Even the chemical toilets were cleaner, more fragrant, and more pleasant than those in Israel. We danced until we ran out of steam around 2 in the morning (after all, dancing sober is not the same, even the alcohol they sold there was watered down and felt like juice). It was fun, but we really missed our regular friends at the parties. I also felt that we were the only ones really dancing while everyone else was busy filming the performance, thousands of phones directed at the stage, recording every moment. I wonder if this is a generational gap or a cultural gap. We ended feeling happy and satisfied, but with a slight sense of bitterness.

At the beginning of the week, I went for a run with the playlist that’s slowly being built here. I listened to the title song (or track, as it's called in electronic) of No Se Fone, the DJ favorite of Yoala, which accompanies me throughout the trip, and I pondered while running over the words

Do not try and bend the spoon, that's impossible.

Instead, only try to realize the truth

there is no spoon

Then you'll see that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself.

I'm trying to free your mind, but I can only show you the door. You're the one who has to walk through it.

A quote from The Matrix - a film that felt philosophical nearly thirty years ago and now feels like a bit of cheap philosophy but takes on a twist when said in a psychedelic context. I remember three periods in my life when I danced: at age 10 in the pool of Club Hotel Tiberias - where I won first place and received an ice pop, during the wedding decade at age 25, and in the past year after 15 years of hiatus, on a journey that started on last year's Independence Day, in the desert, with the flower from the picture at the top of the blog. Dancing, like running, is the best meditation I’ve had. It’s the closest to walking through the gate of consciousness distortion.

Later in the weekend, we went wandering around the city, bought food from street stalls (currently the winner - pieces of mango half ripe with lemon and salt). One of the streets passed by us with a family and we heard the girl say: Hello, amigo, and give Ofri a high five. It took a moment to process, we turned around - it’s a girl from Ofri's kindergarten... We are starting to feel at home. Today, one of the girls in kindergarten told the teacher after the Sabbath reception

llegado un nuevo compañero que habla en el idioma del Shabat

We have a new friend in kindergarten who speaks the language of Shabbat - how sweet

I took Mati and Michael to a trial lesson at a local basketball group. The level was relatively low compared to Israel but it was nice to see them running on the court again. After the practice, they decided they didn't want to join the group. They said it was because of the low level, but in my opinion, they expected the group to make them ‘feel at home’ but what was an anchor for them at home is here a too great a challenge right now. Again, a slight sense of bitterness.

Hashi celebrated his birthday. The closest friend, and my anchor in daily life in recent years, who counts the days with me until we return. For years we’ve been meeting twice a week - on Monday evenings at my place for dinner, smoking, talking, playing Shesh Besh, jamming on guitar-piano. And Friday afternoons at his place, including a nap on the couch. So this week we raised a toast on a video call. Bittersweet

In honor of my sister, a son was born. Yesterday ‘Heini’ at the circumcision. Of course on video call... My cute niece Betal roamed with the phone, showed us the dinner table, the circumcision, and moved between the guests for mingling. Again bittersweet

That morning, we visited the community synagogue, after all it’s a Jewish school (and being part of the community gives a 15% discount at the school...). So once a month they organize prayer and breakfast at the synagogue for all the Jewish children. I planned to drop the kids at the synagogue and go back home, but when I arrived, I felt uneasy about leaving, so I stayed for the prayer. During it, Mati and I found ourselves being called to the Torah.. We recited a blessing over the reading from the Torah and received a blessing from the gabbai:

'...Who blessed Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob... may bless Matias son of Thomas son of Victor'

In the evening, we visited the farm of a colleague of Yoala. He is a former Colombian over 60 who has lived in Costa Rica for thirty years. A plastic chemist who worked at Kimberly Clark for many years and gradually got into sustainability. A few years ago he left and started dealing with biodiversity and land restoration. Until I met him, he was that worker that Yoala tells me does not actually do anything in the project, and the university that accompanies the project is trying hard to push him into the budget. He wrote to her a week ago that he’s coming for a native visit to his parents’ farm and would be happy if we could visit him with the kids. The very person Yoala is trying to get out of the project in Costa Rica lives half an hour away from us in Colombia. No choice, we have to make a courtesy visit. I imagined an old man who is oblivious to himself, who is going to show us a dilapidated farm, will offer us to stay for dinner, and we wouldn’t feel comfortable saying no. We met an impressive person, an engaging speaker with a fascinating life story, a warm man who just wanted to host guests. We got a tour of the beautiful farm his father built fifty years ago as a holiday home, and now his brother raises cattle and pigs there. He shared with us in the field the feeding methods (that Yoala's company sells) and explained the impact of climate change on the land. After we saw the wonderful lifestyle of the cows on the farm, he took us to the barn and said - this is the less pretty part of the farm. The life of the pigs is less pastoral. They are born, eat non-stop, never leave their pen, until after a few months they become meat. I was convinced, only beef from now on (after all, it’s a Jewish school). We met his 93-year-old parents and had a light and tasty dinner. A pleasant surprise and a successful ending to the week.

The saga of the bank account has just come to an end, and with its end, maybe we will finally get to move. Summary of the previous episodes: to rent a house, you need a bank account, for a bank account you need an ID. So two weeks ago, we managed to obtain an ID, last week we managed to open a bank account and for a week we’ve been waiting for the bank to agree to receive our money from Israel - as the bank clerk said: Israel is a dangerous country, we are not allowed to receive money coming from there. After countless emails, WhatsApp exchanges, and a two-day breakdown of the bank's website, an hour ago the bank support representative informed me that he had made the transfer and it would arrive soon. I sat down to write the blog and now an hour has passed, so I checked, and at this very moment, the money has entered, we are millionaires... 52 million pesos have been deposited into our account. I run to make a transfer to the landlord, maybe we’ll still have time to move this weekend

....

After 4 frustrating hours at the bank, the money for the landlord has been transferred, and if God wills, we’ll move on Tuesday.

Checklist: Sugar - a bit of cheating here and there, but still 95% less than in Israel. Not smoking.

Running summary:

Costa Rica - 57 km

Colombia - 18 km

In the meantime, Costa Rica is winning big time. It’s hard to run here - cold, hilly, there are no trails - only main roads. But soon the runs at the lake will come.

See you next week