Post 2 - First Stations

09/25/2025

Portland, Oregon

Day 720 of the war

48 kidnapped in Gaza

Family, America, and the Search for "Home"

הטיסה לפורטלנד אורגון

In Berlin we said goodbye to our lovely children, Daniel and Agam, with tears in our eyes and excitement for what's to come. Still in the farewell phase but also a very strong feeling that this is not really a farewell to the children, but rather a facelift of the bond between us that has been continuing in a dynamic transatlantic way for several years. The excitement for another family reunion and getting closer to the new life we have chosen accompanies us.

We flew to Frankfurt (only an hour) and from there a direct flight of about ten hours to Portland, Oregon. We sit on the plane and open 3 envelopes (one for each descendant). Words emerge from the envelopes, words that envelop us with endless love, with pride and send us on our way with a clear voice of joy and celebration. Their precious words will accompany us all the way, with the beautiful picture of the five of us together in Australia.

תמונות אחרונות מברלין

זו תהיה תלויה על המקרר בקרוואן

Portland, Oregon

My brother Amit, his wife Hof, and their daughter Emma live in Portland. This is also where we met my mother Rebecca, also known as Becky, and my grandmother, and my sister Sharon, who came for their annual family visit. This is a rare event because we don't meet every year, and in general, the four of us being together in one house for a few days is something we haven't done in years. So yes, immediately a Hawaii of shared cooking was created, an anthropological tour of Costco, which is the largest supermarket in the world and you can buy everything there, if you have the right membership card. A picnic on the lakeshore, conversations over cups of tea and coffee, lots of laughter and a few tears, old childhood memories, and simply being together, quietly, in a presence that nourishes us all with the family connection that we so lack in our daily lives. Surprisingly, we even managed to go on a day trip with the three siblings, a rare event in itself and perhaps never before. Mount Hood, which can be seen from the balcony of Amit's house, calls to us, and it's less than an hour's drive to Disneyland, with hiking trails of any style, length, and difficulty level you could want. Like everything here in America, choosing between all the options open to us is difficult. On the other hand, any chosen trail will be amazing, and so it was. We walk through a dense forest, Amit whispers to the trees and imagines what carpentry works he could make from them, Sharon with inexhaustible energy jumps between the rocks and gallops around the curves, and I, behind them, try to catch my breath and embrace the precious time we have together, a nourishment of molecules rich in family love.

Of course, there are moments of arguments, shouting (because Becky forgot to put in her hearing aid), eye rolls and laughter, all moments of life, seasoning our stay with the humanity that is required with everything including everything. As the poet Guy says about us: "Each of you has your own way of doing things and only it is right" So go and combine all the ways. And above all, we are wrapped in a lot of love and that is what is important.

Amit and Hof host us in their beautiful home with its well-kept yard, generously and happily, and we are happy to help with housework, gardening, and maintenance.

On Friday afternoon, we drive Becky and Sharoni to the airport and send them on their journey back to Israel, arriving before Rosh Hashanah and having enough time for a holiday dinner and to celebrate Egami's birthday. The moment has come to say goodbye to my mother and sister, knowing that it will be many months before we see each other again. I shed tears in a warm embrace and take with me their immense, generous, and warm love.

America

Everything here is big. Streets, shops, parking lots, houses, supermarkets, cars. Most of it is green and every few days it rains heavily, watering Mother Earth. The spaces are vast and allow a sense of freedom to begin to sprout.

A culture that is polished, polished, every problem has a solution, every desire has a tempting offer. On the other hand, on the sides of the roads, especially as you approach the city and in certain neighborhoods, you see poverty, the homeless in sleeping bags, tents, on benches and sidewalks. Behind each and every one of them lies an enormous trauma and a dark life story.

I feel tiny in this setting. Everything is big and comfortable. You get used to the comfort quickly, but there are still certain sounds and noises that make me hyper-alert. I monitor these reactions and wonder how long it will take for the nervous system to calm down and stop being startled by noises.

We ordered the smallest car the rental company had just so we could easily get around while searching for our new "home." I'll cut a long story short and say that in the end we ended up with a huge, black, electric, and upgraded pickup truck. Apparently, reality has gradually adapted us to moving around in a large vehicle.

"The house"

Right now, right at the time of writing this post, we are on the verge of executing the purchase transactions for "Habit," but it hasn't happened yet for various reasons that I will explain later. I will just add that some of it has to do with the Bank Hapoalim strike somewhere in the Holy Land...

Back in Israel, when we started planning, we decided to purchase a pickup truck, a 4x4 with a long, open rear bed on which we could mount a truck camper. The reason for this decision was that most of the trip would take place in Central and South American countries, where the roads and paths might be of lower quality, as well as our desire to maintain freedom of movement that would allow us to reach less touristy areas.

When we arrived here, in America as in America, we were exposed to an endless selection of vehicles, trailers of different types and species, and like children in a candy store, we were confused by the abundance, scattered and after a few days gathered again for our original goals and needs. We returned to the original plan we had to purchase a strong, reliable vehicle, which could be serviced in South America if necessary and transported. The trailer that is suitable for such a vehicle is supposed to be mounted on it, meaning it should be smaller, compact and light, and also a little less comfortable and luxurious. Therefore, the search simultaneously included a vehicle and a trailer of very specific types that are suitable for each other. Within a few days, my brain, which was used to listening to various and strange sensations, diseases, symptoms and physical sensations, to in-depth conversations with patients, acupuncture points, medicinal herbs, nutrition, was exposed to amounts of information about vehicles and trailers, types of engines, fuels, years of manufacture, belts, tires, lengths. In short, a whole mess of details that made me overwhelmed and a little stressed. Amit, who is also my father's son, who was known for his systematic methods of gathering information, prepared a binder for us, tables, and instructed us to start filling in all the information about the vehicles and trailers we saw. I was very disciplined and it really did put us in order.

We collect information from Facebook Market, Craigslist: compatible with "Yad 2" at our place, and of course Chatty, who has become a close and helpful friend, although highly motivated to be liked even at the expense of reliable information.

We start wandering the roads, meeting different people selling their cars and trailers, sales agents at car lots, farmers, mechanics, and the information starts to flow and accumulate. Every day is a comprehensive lesson in mechanics and all that that implies. Everyone we meet on the road is generous with their information and experience in this field. Everyone wants to sell us their wares, but not aggressively. Pleasantly, friendly, and with open communication.

The search traffic that began scattered in all directions is slowly narrowing down to a very precise need - the type of vehicle, the type of trailer.

I hope the next post will contain the story of the purchase that has not yet happened, but for now, let's take comfort in the wonderful words of Guy the Poet.

cold

Ring hugs ring

The trunk of a fallen tree in the forest

His years of life are evident.

The thunder of his fall fell silent in the depths of the forest.

Bare feet spinning on the ground

To the rhythm of the drum beats that shakes the forest

As if seeking to assimilate into the filth of his land

A circle of dancers seeking to gather their roots

To hold on to the stump of their past

To seek refuge from the cold of his loneliness

Guy the Poet

Until next time, we would love to receive your feedback, suggestions, and requests below in the comments.

Praying that this year will reveal to us that the wheel can turn in the direction of humanity, dignity, healing, and most importantly, the return home of all the abductees who have been held for too long.