Home sweet home.
When the plane landed, we clapped. The rest of the passengers – commuters and the like – probably thought we were insane. But we’d been in transit for 18 hours at that point, so it made sense to us.
We found our families, reassured them that we were home, fine, and not murdered by terrorists, and went home. But not before scheduling a dinner and meet-up a couple of weeks later for the Montreal contingent. I can honestly say that I kept in touch with people on this trip a lot better than I did with people on longer trips. Was it because of our shared bond as Jews and our ties and connections through the network already? I don’t know. But it was nice.
Goodbye, Israel. Hello Montreal.