Episode 31: "The Long Goodbye" (+) [SEASON FINALE]

The goodbyes began with Becca, who was leaving earlier than everyone else. She had a flight to catch before the semester was even over, so she asked that I come out with her to a bar on campus the night before she left. I don't like bars, and I don't like beer, but I do like me some Becca. So I chilled with her, Jeremy, and some other friends of Becca's for a couple of hours.

At the bar.

I'd learned quite a bit from Becca, and I was sad to see her go. But she's on the fast track to better things (she wants to be a nurse), so more power to her.

After I got through my exams, it was goodbyes left and right. I'm not really good with that kind of thing, especially when there's no certainty of seeing people again. For example, I went to say goodbye to Brett and Valker, two of my friends from Ulpan who I never hung out with enough. Both were heading to Europe, and I really wasn't sure what occasion there'd be to realistically have some kind of reunion. I was also able to semi-see my friend Stefanie off with a quick falafel dinner, but again, no promises of seeing her after she left Israel. Same feeling with my friend Paul.

Anyway, throughout the week I must have stood at the front gate of the Student Village at least six times, waving people off. Danny. Jimmy. Eric. Gaby. Gaby's goodbye was especially difficult, because of how clear it was that he wanted to stay. I went over to his room to chill out for a bit before he left, so at least there was that.

But it was pretty sad anyway.
Oren, Jimmy, me and Gaby.

And throughout that same week was the monumental task of saying goodbye to all four of my roommates. I'd been dreading that phase of my trip for a long time, and it didn't actually make saying goodbye any easier.

Roni was the first to leave. She'd arranged an early morning pickup by a Taxi driver, who came at least fifteen minutes early, rushing our goodbye a little. My house, Oren and Eric said goodbye to her. I hugged her, feeling sad but fine--but when she actually got in the car I couldn't help the water works.


And it wasn't the last time I shed a tear over that stuff. It was a rough week.

The next to leave was Corina, and I'm still a frustrated over how that one went down. Corina said that we didn't get up to see her off, since her minivan--or "sherut"--was coming at 5 a.m. But Brian, Aisling and I weren't having it, and she relented. Brian asked that I wake him up, though. Both of us were working on our final papers and wouldn't be getting much sleep as it was.

I went to bed around 4:15 a.m. after I finished mine, hoping to get at least a half hour of sleep by the time Corina had to leave. I should have just stayed up, because when I heard the knock on my door and Corina saying something, I was too groggy to respond quickly enough. I'd heard something about "thirty minutes."

When I forced myself up out of bed, undressed, Corina and Aisling weren't in the living room. I opened the front door, and the two of them were standing by the elevator. Corina had said "three minutes" when she knocked on my door. The sherut driver had called Corina a half hour earlier than his scheduled arrival, telling her that if she wasn't downstairs shortly, he was leaving. I dashed back into my apartment, knocked on Brian's door, got dressed, waited for him to catch up, hustled down the stairs, and raced out the door to catch Corina. But Aisling was already on her way back to us, saying that Corina had left. The disappointment kind of paralyzed me for a second where I stood.

I was back in bed when Corina called, maybe ten minutes later. I was so grateful to hear from her. She was crying on the other end and I was barely coherent, but at least we got some kind of farewell in.


The next day, Brian and I were able to have one good talk together before he left. I chilled in his room and we discussed the overall trip, the roommate situation, where our heads were at. When he left, I got the proper hug and farewell words in.

"Really," Brian said. "It's been a pleasure."

Well, back at you, Brian.


And then there were two.

Aisling and I had a couple of days to spend together before she took off. It was a fantastic opportunity to get to bond with her some more before she left. Even before the goodbye week, I felt I'd really gotten to know Aisling better than ever. She and I'd had a couple of talks that gave me new insight into a few misunderstandings there'd been around the house. I got a chance to study with her for a final exam we both had, which was a lot of fun. I even saw her dance a little bit after the dance party, something that had never happened before. She was opening up in a lot of ways, and I was glad to see it happening.

With the last couple of days together, we wrapped up some of her loose ends in Israel. She needed to do some shopping at Ben Yehuda Street for souveneirs, so I accompanied her there.

Ben Yehuda.
Believe it or not, it's actually
a big party spot at night.

That night, we watched an obscene amount of television. Goofy stuff like The Office and Aliens in America. And she showed me how to assemble a makeshift mop and properly clean the floors, like she and Roni had been doing all year. I was officially the new house caretaker, at least for a little while.

The next day, she and I went to the Old City, where I showed her the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and where she was able to buy her final souveneirs.

When her sherut came in the evening, I walked her out like I had everyone else. We hugged, and she said "I love you," which took me by surprise. I'd made a couple of mistakes that had hurt her feelings during the semester, I think, but I guess she'd forgiven them.

"I love you, too," I said.

Aisling, on our day in the Old City.

I came back to an empty apartment.

I guess the next couple of days were bearable. I could play my music as loud as I wanted and clean what I thought was gross around the house. My friend Laco invited me over to his place for dinner one night, and I went with him to a New Year's party held by a dance club. But to tell you the truth, there really was a void where most of my friends had been. It didn't feel very good.

I guess that's the thing about goodbyes, right? If they hurt, your relationships actually meant something.

Shalom,
Eric

Epilogue:

On New Year's Day, I said my goodbyes to what remaining friendswere on campus and packed to head to Kibbutz Samar. A kibbutz is a commune of sorts first where people work and live together. I was going to a kibbutz because I'd heard great things about peoples' experiences at those places in Israel, and I had more than enough time during my winter break to see what it was like. I chose Kibbutz Samar in particular because a friend I'd met during Ulpan, Steve, had said it was a very special place to visit. Steve gave me the e-mail address of a guy there named Joe, whom I kept in contact with for about a month. In his last e-mail, Joe told me to give him a call before I came down to Samar, so I called him about an hour or so before I got on my bus. No answer. I called him on the bus a couple of times, and still no pickup.

After about five hours of driving south, I was dropped off, in the dead of night, on the road in the middle of the desert. Absolutely no one around. Only vague lights ahead. There was a sign pointing down the road that said "Samar," but being that alone in the dark, and with no Joe to confirm my arrival, was pretty scary. I dragged my bag forward, walking down the long length of a road that was only sparsely lit. The stars were brighter than I'd ever seen in Israel, and seeing them so clearly only seemed to augment how hollow and remote this place was. The path was so dark and so lonely that--despite all of my frustrations with my faith this past semester--I prayed out of fear. Eventually I passed a gate and came to a fork in the road. There were some lights to the left, but brighter lights to the right.

I turned right and hoped for the best.