Home Sweet Home

Apologies for all those who read and see that I paid a flying visit back home, but did not have time to stop and say hello. At the start of May, knowing my visa was about to expire and after countless efforts to have it extended or revised, the night before my departure, I found out that I was now 'visa less!' Having already decided that it would be an opportunity to slip off home and see the brood, I had booked a flight previously and was planning to be home for a few brief days. This was necessary whatever happened, as I would have to re-enter on my British Passport, as at this point in time, no further visas were to be issued on my Israeli one.

This was by no means singled out for the Middle East, but in general the 'f'' visa
is being revoked, temporarily or otherwise as of yet unknown and all those who
wished to continue their time here, were required to go home to their own
embassies for validation. Just as I was about to board the plane, in fact with one foot on, my youngest son called to say that he would be meeting me at Ben
Gurion airport in Israel, flying in from Spain.

It was fun creating a stir in the airport lounge as we met flying in from different parts of the world and made our way back to Jerusalem together, chatting about our experiences. When we arrived, we crept into my daughter's home, as
my son in law and grand-daughter were still sleeping. It was a precious moment, when she began to wake up. I was careful not to frighten her, by making a lunge to pick her up in my arms, but smiled and spoke to her quietly.

Never mind what the books say, I guarantee that she recognised me, whether it
was my voice, or a familiar face, the beaming smile she gave was one of familiarity, for after all, I had held her just moments after she was born!
The weekend was spent walking the old city, stepping back into old haunts,
basking in the warm sun and admiring the blue sky. As we traipsed the streets
of the ancient city, I was startled to be recognised by shop sellers from my days
as a guide and pausing to say a prayer at the Western (Wailing) Wall, the last
remnant from the second temple, always manages to bring a tear to my eye.

Sunday was spent visa-shopping as I used all my wits to procure that stamp to re-enter China, even making sure that I had a ticket for the games. Proof of living accommodation had to be produced and even though I had brought a pile high of documents, they still managed to find that one vital one, to be missing.

The remainder of my stay was spent with the rest of my brood, winding in and out, touching home, a word of advice, a girlfriend intro, a wish, a blessing and all too soon I was leaving. I love Israel, I belong there, I am part of it and it is part of me, but for some reason, I miss my family greatly as well as my friends, but I am not ready to go home yet.

Upon my return and happy welcome back, many a person asked me if I wished to settle in China. In answer to this question, I will explain - that China has many merits, it is a country that is old in its history, but young in its change.
It is exciting and annoying at the same time, it is mysterious and warm, but at
times so unto tally un-western that the exasperation knows no bounds. For me
though, with all its fascination, it can never be home, for not only because of my children, but my heart belongs to another and has since I was a little girl, I am
on loan, for my place and home lies across the Mediterranean Sea, in Israel.