Transitions and Changes - America, Fiji, Australia

March 4, 2026

1000 days have passed since October 7

The final farewell to the bear

On Sunday, Keren came from Berkeley to visit Gino, to help us depart from the bear, and we returned to Berkeley together.

We spent the day together, driving a few minutes outside Santa Cruz to visit Rachel's farmhouse, where Keren's friend from college lives.

The farm, which belonged to her grandmother, is huge, with several houses, chickens, peacocks, goats, and two horses. One of them is old, roams freely, and, of course, immediately fell in love with Guy and followed him everywhere. The other is locked in the stable because he arrived yesterday and is very restless. He is adjusting. Rachel knows how to calm him down; she is a horse whisperer. We walked around the yard and entered the houses. Rachel's grandmother was an artist, and her impressive works are scattered everywhere. Lots of objects, cobwebs, old furniture, a strong smell of moss, and memories jump out from every wall and tile. I remember Grandpa Yaakov's house in Amirim. People who collected objects, or rather allowed objects to pile up around them, like a layer of protection from the world.

In the afternoon, we returned to Santa Cruz, met with Gino for dinner, and arranged to meet the next day at his farm.

The next morning, we showed up with all our belongings and parked the bear outside Cookie's house, Gino's tenant, who would take care of it, make the necessary repairs, and keep it for us.

We said goodbye to Gino and Cookie with warmth, gratitude, and the clear knowledge that they too were among our trail angels.

We loaded all the belongings into Keren's small car, which fit effortlessly in the trunk, and set off back to Berkeley.

This time we are sleeping in Keren's childhood home, which I also have ancient memories of, and I enjoy the backyard, which is like a whole world in itself, with green corners, wind chimes, and Ruthie's spirit blowing there in full force (Keren's late mother).

We feel at home in Berkeley, meet friends, make last-minute arrangements, pack, and celebrate Guy's birthday on the very day of our flight.

In the evening, we were already packed and waiting for the Uber to pick us up, and we said goodbye to Keren and Alyosha with excitement and gratitude. They were already with one foot out the door for their summer vacation adventures.

At Gino's farm, we say goodbye to the bear and leave it in good hands.

At Rachel's farm

Sunset on the longest day of the year at Indian Rock - Berkeley

The flight to Australia - with a stopover in Fiji

We took an overnight flight to Australia with a 27-hour layover in Fiji. The ticket was so cheap that it was worth making the stopover. We were curious about it.

We landed in the morning and were greeted by the sounds of local music at the airport. We walked out of the terminal and met Navid, a taxi driver waiting for us, as if we had invited him. On the way to the hotel, he told us about Fiji and offered to take us on a day trip to beautiful places, with his guidance. We took the chance, since we knew that we would have no other way to get to these places, and besides, it would keep us awake all day.

The guys in skirts stand, sing, and play in honor of those landing on the island.

At ten, Navid showed up, and we set off for a day of sightseeing in the Nadi area where we landed. The official language in Fiji is English, so there was no communication problem.

Fiji's human mosaic is fascinating. Most of the inhabitants are indigenous Fijians (iTaukei), who live alongside a large community of Indian origin. The Indian community is descended from laborers brought from India by the British in the late 19th and early 20th centuries to work on the sugar cane plantations. Today, the two groups live side by side, and each has preserved much of its traditions, language, and religion. That is why in Fiji you can find traditional villages alongside Hindu temples, churches, mosques, and markets where different cultures meet at almost every corner.

Our first stop was the largest and most important Hindu temple on the island. Before entering, everyone must remove their shoes, and Guy was given a skirt to wear because he had arrived in shorts. Photography inside the temple is not allowed, so you'll have to imagine the spectacle for yourself.

The ceilings and walls are covered with vibrant, hand-painted murals depicting Hindu gods, legends, and symbols. Those familiar with Shiva, Vishnu, and Kali can picture the rich tapestry of stories that fills every surface. To create these intricate paintings, artists were brought in especially from India and spent months carefully painting every detail by hand. The result is a breathtaking celebration of color, faith, and art that captivates even visitors with no prior knowledge of Hindu culture.

Inside the temple courtyard, there is a tree dedicated to Buddha, although it is not part of the Hindu celebration.

We wandered around the city among souvenir shops, stopped for coffee, went to the colorful and charming local market, drank fresh coconut, which reminded us of Central America, and, of course, we also tasted kava, the national drink served at almost every social gathering or traditional ceremony. It is meant to evoke a sense of calm and tranquility. I felt my tongue fall asleep, which is a known reaction.

From there, we drove to the village of Viseisei, which, according to local tradition, is believed to be the place where the first settlers arrived in Fiji more than 3,000 years ago. They crossed the ocean in large canoes from the Melanesian region, bringing with them knowledge of farming, fishing, canoe building, and community life. Here they established one of the first settlements on the islands, and from this very place, Fijian culture gradually evolved into what it is today.

The village still preserves its traditional way of life and offers a fascinating connection between Fiji's ancient past and its present. We were greeted by Mary, who took us on a tour of the village and was genuinely excited to learn that we were from Israel. The village reminded us a little of an Israeli kibbutz, with its wide lawns, beautifully kept gardens, and shared community spaces. Even today, the people here continue to live with a strong sense of cooperation, belonging, and community.

From the village, we continued to the Garden of the Sleeping Giant, with lush green mountains rising in the background like sleeping giants. According to local legend, they are the shapes of a man and a woman lying face to face. We wandered along a beautiful walking trail through the gardens—immaculately maintained, peaceful, and surrounded by lush tropical rainforest. It was one of those quiet moments that invite you to simply slow down and breathe.

Our final stop was lunch at a local Indian restaurant that Navid loves. We were served a true Indian feast, complete with enough spice to set not only our mouths but probably the rest of our digestive system on fire.

Along the way, we once again encountered the familiar speed bumps that had accompanied us throughout Latin America under names like topes and túmulos. Here in Fiji, however, they have by far the best name we've heard yet: Sleeping Policemen. We both agreed that this is, without question, the most creative and fitting name of them all.

We returned to the hotel in the late afternoon, with just a few more hours to get through before our late-night flight. We took a sunset walk along the beach, packed our bags, and even squeezed in another football match.

Just as we were finally ready to close our eyes, we discovered there wasn't one party—but two. One was taking place in the hotel courtyard, and another at the neighboring hotel. Deafening music blasted from every direction at what felt like completely unreasonable decibel levels.

Once again, my Apple AirPods came to the rescue. I slipped them on, and within moments they carried me away into a world of silence... and clouds.

From Fiji to Australia

We woke up well before time. Bubbles of excitement rose and floated within us, and soon we would meet our golden-haired Mika.

The flight to the Gold Coast, where Mika lives, passed quickly, and here we are, landing. Hugs, smiles, and small tears filled the airport. Bubbles of excitement floated and rose, and we floated with them in excitement, joy, and gratitude for having the opportunity to come here, to Mika's life, and to be with her.

The Golden Continent from a Bird's Eye View

Gold Coast - Australia

The city is located on the east coast of Australia, in the state of Queensland, south of Brisbane. It is one of the country's famous coastal cities, known for its long stretch of beaches spanning tens of kilometers, excellent waves for surfers, pleasant weather most of the year, and a relaxed seaside atmosphere. Alongside the skyscrapers and lively promenades, ancient rainforests, waterfalls, and nature reserves are a short drive away, so in one area you can enjoy both a spectacular beach and a rich and unique culture.

There is no trace of rust in our parenting. Within minutes, I am in the kitchen and begin producing the products I have been accustomed to making for years: sauerkraut, granola, hummus, legume dishes, Israeli breakfasts, etc.

We have adapted quite quickly to the beauty of the sea, the waves, the comfort of life, and are delighted to meet our Mika every afternoon and on weekends.

The streets and promenade are almost full of Australians walking, running, and cycling. Everyone here is impressively busy keeping fit, and I'm joining them to regain what I've lost in recent months.

And so, while we immerse ourselves in the Australian relaxed atmosphere, between runs along the beach, cooking in the kitchen, and conversations at the end of the day, the realization creeps in that we will soon be returning home.

Return to Israel

In two weeks, we will land in Israel with mixed feelings.

There is great excitement. Deep longing. The thought of the first hug with the children, with the family, with the friends. Of the familiar smells and language, all the places that are a part of us. I am deeply curious about the new chapter that awaits us. What will life be like after a year of wandering? Who will we be on the road? And what will we take home with us?

Naturally, alongside the excitement, there is also concern.

For months, very slowly, the protective armor surrounding us began to crack. We physically distanced ourselves from the incessant stream of news, from the debates, from the tension and daily vigilance. We did not for a moment stop loving the country or caring. On the contrary. We simply allowed ourselves, for the first time in years, to distance ourselves and breathe more deeply.

And now, we return to the familiar reality. To the pain. To the security tension. To the political discourse that is heating up as the elections approach. To the polarization, to the intolerance, to the difficulty of listening to those who think differently, and to the feeling that everyone is required to choose a side.

I wonder how I will meet all this.

Perhaps the greatest gift I received on this journey, and especially in studying shamanism, is the understanding that it is possible to see reality as it is, complex, painful, and multifaceted. To be fully present with it, with the pain, but not to be swallowed up in it, and not to ignore or obscure it with various aids.

The shamanic perspective allows me to see that external reality is only one layer of the story. Beneath the noise, deeper currents flow, and each person acts from their own story, from their own wounds, from their own fears and hopes. It is an approach that invites me to encounter what hurts with curiosity rather than reactivity, to remain open-hearted even when the tendency is to close down.

I don't know if I'll succeed.

I know that I, too, will sometimes be sucked into anger, fear, or sadness. I know that I won't always be able to maintain that perspective.

But this is exactly the intention I want to take back home with me: to remember that it is possible to be part of reality without becoming it. To see the pain, but also the people. To feel the tension, but not let it take over the heart. And to continue to choose, again and again, to be present, curious, and human even in the complex times that await us.

So far for now,

With love

Guy and Efrat, without the bear