Coming Home from Georgia to Jerusalem

When I was in Georgia last week, Hadas and I tried to learn some Georgian words. But it wasn’t easy! Georgian shares no connection with any other language outside of Georgia and the words tend to be long and difficult to pronounce, with long uninterrupted strings of consonants with nary a vowel in sight. For example, the river that runs through Tbililsi is called the MTKVARI. Even the word for “Hello” is the 4-syllable mouthful “GMARJOBA.”

So Hadas and I only managed to memorize a few words: where, what, why, when, hello, thank you, and thank you very much!

But, after we’d mastered thank you very much, I pointed out that we had no need to learn how to say “you’re welcome,” because, during our stay there, we were travelling and exploring and shopping and thoroughly enjoying ourselves, but as tourists we had almost no opportunities to do anything for another person that would warrant a “thank you.”

I returned home from Georgia to Jerusalem on Thursday, and it’s been wonderful to return from Georgia’s ancient but dying Jewish community to a city that’s absolutely buzzing with the holiday. Jerusalem, and my neigborhood in particular, is bursting with Succot, lulavim, and families all dressed up, all over.

But I think the sweetest part of coming home is that, at home, with my family, I am needed, and that is (I am experiencing) a profoundly satisfying feeling. It was nice to enjoy myself, to spoil myself, as I did last week. I’m a big advocate of doing that on a regular basis. But since I’ve been home, I’ve been feeling how giving can fill you up in a way that getting just can’t.