Apparently, Israel cries when I leave (happened on Birthright too). Although the tears might be tears of joy and not sadness. Maybe she knows I'll be back soon :) At any rate, she needs the water.
And apparently, I'm much more open now. Shani came back (right as I was leaving at 4am) and the first thing she said was how relaxed I looked, even when I felt stressed out about packing. A group of young Israeli boys at the train station also picked up on that. It's a shame they didn't ask which way the train was going. If I'd known, I might have had company during the ride. Oh well. C'est la vie.
And why didn't I ask if she spoke French? I bet she did. When looking for the tachana hamerkazit, the person I asked for directions asked me if I spoke English. I said yes. Then she asked me if I spoke Spanish. I said yes, poqito, mais je ne peut pas revenir l'espagnol. I tried and tried but all I could think of was french!! She asked me to say something to prove I spoke Spanish but I was a total blank. Eventually, she just walked me down the block until I saw the golden arches. I guess 6 years of suffering paid off. Madame's scare tactics obviously did something to my wernike's area. I see three semesters of Spanish at pton weren't so helpful after all, unless you count their reinforcement of French. Honestly. I'll never understand that one.
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