The End-Stonia.

Where am I? Where have I been? Where am I going? These questions keep smacking me in the face when I look up, open my eyes, and shake my head in total disbelief that I am where I am…and where I’ve been is in the past.

I was in Estonia 3 weeks ago. I was crying my not-so-tiny heart out on my friend’s shoulders in Latvia on August 23^rd. I was in Dallas with my mom, my family, and friends not even 2 weeks ago. And here I am, September 15^th, a week and half into living in New York, one week of work under my belt, and gearing up to leave for Washington D.C. for my first work-related trip tomorrow.

Where am I?

At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.

But really: In some sort of whirlwind. That’s’ for sure. The thing is… I know who I am and what I’m doing more than ever…those two align seamlessly. And yet, the people surrounding me make it all feel like home. So when I look up at the tiny Spanish bodegas on my street corner in Brooklyn, or hear Russian whiz past me as I stroll through Central Park…it just all feels right. Like it was meant to be. Or rather, I made it be.

And I’ve gathered that I am where I am – not because of where I’ve been, but what I’ve done with where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, what I’ve felt.

I refuse to speak of Estonia in the past-tense, I’m not quite ready to let Estonia go back there. I’m holding onto it, trying to keep the memories active and buzzing – the people within arms-length. Or Skype-reach. I can’t, yet, dig deep into the year and all that it has meant to me – I want to sum it up and say “it’s meant everything”, but it filled certain holes, specific places that needed filling. Places that have made me more me. I am more me.

I feel good.

My heart literally tightens at the thought of the beautiful, giving, and fantastically special people in the Baltics. Thinking of them can turn a 45-minute subway ride into 5-minutes. And yes, hearing Russian in public spaces could not give me more joy than a CLIF bar and a vanilla latte. That’s big joy.

Getting messages from my kids saying, “We miss you”, “We love you”, “Our meeting was not the same without you” – Yeah, that kills me. These kids who are across the ocean, touching Russia, a ferry-ride from Finland, these kids think of me? They have to know how much I think of them – holding back my love for them was never an issue.

And these thoughts, these images hit me differently. Most times I’m sad knowing they’re so far away…other times, I’m just so happy and grateful we keep in touch with one another. And that I was able to experience the magical year I wanted so badly – so badly. And I got it. I made it mine, and here I am.

At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.

One week of work under my belt. Not just any ordinary week of work; meaningful work. Work that intertwines with what I believe in right now, and what I wish to see in the world – with people who care, with people who are on the exact same page as me. That makes me feel good.

I’m on some sort of cloud. Not sure if it’s cloud-nine; but it’s a cloud a little higher than the Brooklyn bridge – I can see Estonia, I can see Brooklyn, I can see Manhattan. Dallas, you’re there too. My co-worker shared a “Jewish saying”, that sometimes your head can be where you are, but your soul might be slowly trailing behind, taking its’ time to catch up with your body. I believe that. It’s happening. Currently. Like, right now.

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My soul is taking its’ time, and I’m not going to push it to go any faster.

Oh, but I have so many good stories of my first week in Brooklyn and Manhattan! I think, what I’ll do, is create another blog by the name of…

www.brookjenyc.wordpress.com

Where I start a fresh chapter/page/blog roll, accounting my stories of living in a place that is unlike any other place I’ve lived in – I’m talking way more culture shock than Kansas AND Estonia combined. This should be good. This should be interesting.

 Thank you SO much for following me on JENSTONIA the past year! Your readership, commentary, and presence has meant so much to me – and it will continue to as I navigate my next journey in Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Love to all,

Jenstonia – forever Jenstonia

My Junestonia.

“I live in Estonia” – I’m going to miss saying that.

As I approach the last 3 months of my service in the Baltics, I can’t keep myself from swatting away the surreal nostalgia bug. “We’re going to miss you, you know?”, my friend casually said to me last night as we traded sushi rolls and sipped on the house white wine, which tasted more like water – exactly how 3Eur house wine should taste.

As I catch the water trickling from the outside of my wine glass, I tell my girls how horrendous and non-graceful I will be when the time approaches for me to pack my belongings and ship stateside; literally covered in tears, slobber, the works. The thought of waking up the first morning in my own bed in Dallas, not in my cozy little apartment in the city center of Tallinn, is enough to get my tear ducts exercising and heart dropping well past my stomach.

When you think about it, it’s really not okay. I mean, it’s going to be okay (it always is), but this experience is so deep, so meaningful, that nonchalantly removing myself from it and carrying on in a place that leaves no semblance of the streets I walked or the people that turned into the best of friends… that’s a damn crime, guys! It’s my job to keep the door on this time cracked open; keep the memories alive and the strong network of friends and colleagues in touch. I know that life goes on, people are busy, but shutting the door completely is a total non-option. In fact, I’m thinking about signing up for Russian courses immediately upon return. Ya neva know, right?

But for real, living and breathing an experience that I’ve always yearned for is two dozen blessings and more. For the most part, I am consistently warmed and overjoyed by this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, its’ impermanence reminds me to chronically smell the roses. I haven’t taken enough time the past month to sit and reflect on my rose-smelling; thankfully the whole blog maintenance concept remains in the back of my head. You should know I say to myself daily, “oh! I’ve gotta write about his!”… but it just keeps happening. Good things worth sharing keep happening… and this girl is not complaining.

Here is a piece I started writing 3 weeks ago:

I’m eager to write to you beautiful people tonight!

Hmm, you may be pondering, why is this night different from all other nights? Splendorful inquiry.

 

In one week: one engagement. One birth. One wedding. One bris (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brit_milah).

 

Some of my exceptionally close friends from here and home have been blessed this week. Never in my young adulthood have I experienced a heart-pounding, joyous tear-bursting, up-in-arms wailing kind of reaction for these special moments in life. Oh so this is why they make bridesmaids movies? The passion to plan and take action is burning through my fingertips already. Because when they’re close to you, it’s love on an entirely new level.

And that’s all I wrote because I had to jet off to see the baby, talk to the engaged couple, and get ready for a wedding.

But looking back and reading what I wrote, it is love on an entirely new level when the people are close to you.

So, yes, all those things happened the first week of June. The next week I coordinated the first-ever Estonia and Finland teen exchange program; I mean, the countries are literally 8okm away from one another, the logistics minor (especially with teens who just want to touch each other), and now 23 years since the collapse of the Soviet Union… these kids have Jewish friends up north. Not only that, but they do things a little differently there, so instead of battling for ways to learn more and keep things fresh inside the bubble…they’ve got a literal exchange of knowledge to further enrich their own spaces. Their bubbles are expandable. Fancy that – and just a ferry ride away.

And now I’m en route back to Tallinn from Riga; I spent the weekend in London with my brother – first time I’ve seen the guy since JDC JSC Orientation in August! Right when I hopped off the plane I tubed to the BBYO UK & Ireland office to see what was going down there – I can tell you that would not have been the first thing on my “vacation” list a year ago. I never even had the connection or knew there was an office in London. So I sat in a planning session with some handsome men running the show, and off I went to bond with brother in Central London. Our flat ridiculously good looking and nestled between Notting Hill and Hyde Park. Did I tell you my absolute favorite movie (right before Billy Madison) is Notting Hill? I mean, guys, I fell in love. I just did. It happened. Like if I had no problem with a socialist government and the ludicrous prices of London, I’d live in Notting Hill. My hypothetical vision of living there was proven when I walked into a bar and heard, “uptown girl, She’s been living in her uptown world / I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy / I bet her momma never told her why”, Billy Joel. My man. In a bar. In Notting Hill. Oooooooo-kay.

Anywho, the weekend was great. The weather was quintiessential humid, rainy, London. But I still dug it. My brother and I did what we do and dabbled in some oyster-eating, wine-drinking, and career-trajectory-talking. Not gonna lie, London was a nice break to the West – I forgot, however, how material our little world was… and the material is soooooooooooooooooo good. Such great boutiques and creative brands out there. I’m so out of the loop. Actually, I think anyone not living in London, Paris, New York, or LA have to be out of the loop. Sorry if you’re in the loop and you don’t live in any of the above cities. If you live in the loop in St. Louis, you’re more literally in the loop than anyone. I’m done.

On Friday, I go to my homeland for one month: LITHUANIA. You know, that country once linked with Poland as a region home to the largest diaspora population between the 16^th and 19^th centuries? I’ll be there for one month of Baltic regional summer camp. Yours truly will be directing sports and cheer-building. I figured in my last few months here, I wanted to contribute to as much as possible… these kids are about to get sports training like never before. I’m talkin’ UNC runs, knock out, Swedish soccer, you name it. It’s happening.

I’m off for now and hope to find a few moments to update you while I’m in Lithuania! One last plug for the Baltics (or at least Poland and Lithuania): If your roots are from here and you’re able to board a plane, please visit. The further we get from an area, which before the war, provided such a lively, supportive infrastructure for Jews to learn and succeed in relative peace… the more it erases from our memory, the more we disconnect from our roots and how we are able to flourish today. I will strongly state that it is only ignorance which keeps us from returning to this part of the world; it is safe, beautiful, full of smart and dedicated people, and you’ve just gotta do it if you can.

Signing off! Happy summer, yawl!

Jenstonia – AKA Jenthuania for July.  

 

 

Seasonal Stimulation in Estonia

As I look beyond my living room window to the once totally barren trees, I see a different space than what I’ve grown used to; I see a forest of green and a bright blue sky that stays lit for all but four hours. A new season, a new chapter from the universe to differentiate spring from winter, spring from fall.

It is stunning here. I am constantly taken back to September, when I first arrived in Estonia, when the trees were flavored with a plethora of reds, yellows, and oranges; when it was all new and I was creating the first steps in the first chapter of my Estonia. I rewind a little further, all the time, of the days back in Dallas when I spent hours upon hours on Google maps (street view) – literally walking through the streets of Tallinn with my index finger on touch-screen glass  for days on end.

I had a massive map of Northern Europe sprawled out on my mother’s dining room table for months – she was thrilled! I studied the map, picturing my frizzy-haired self at a miniscule coordinate, wracking my brain to comprehend I was only kilometers away from mammoth Russia and genital-shaped Finland.

I now do the same in the real life – imagine myself as a tiny blue dot on a map, surrounded in people, places, cities, countries I never thought I would be so lucky to be so close to; the vision of my frizzy-haired self as a tiny speck on a map keeps me humbled, keeps me permanently pinched to remember where I am and how special it is that I’m here.

<– my frizzy and friends in Latvia

And that’s how I feel almost daily. The longer days and greener trees help, for sure. The last few weeks of winter I might not have felt so humbled to be in the presence of 6-month old ice and grey skies, but hey  – new season, new chapter right?

In the past month I’ve traveled to Budapest, Vienna, Prague, and Berlin. I spent a week total traveling from East to West, fascinated with everything these unique cities had to offer. I saw some incredible sights, met some interesting new people, reunited with old friends, and experienced what I could without a plan or expectation in sight. Due to the nature and focus of my year, I chose to focus on Jewish life in these cities; history, movements, growth, revival and renewal.

It was hard, really hard, to go to cities where Jewish life was vibrant before the war, walk through countless cemeteries, unused Synagogues, museums, and preserved artifacts. Berlin became my opportunity to catch a breath of Jewish renewal, ironically in a city that has some of the best displays of experiential and interpretive memorials I’ve ever witnessed.

The JSC Fellow in Berlin was my key to understanding current Jewish life; after pointing out Hitler’s underground barracks, which is adjacent to one of the Holocaust memorials, she took me to the Jewish Quarter. We roamed through streets displaying commemorative lines where the Berlin wall stood, into an area buzzing with life. Hebrew permeated the air, schwarma and falafel restaurants stood in plain sight – I felt like I was in a city that left zero remnants of its’ infamous division. This is exactly what I subconsciously hoped to see and feel in an area that was as close to the West as it was to the East. At least on the surface.

I felt proud to fly home, eastward to Estonia, to a space that has also jumped leaps and bounds from its’ previous Soviet domination. I was also surprised to finally walk on a ground completely free of ice and negative temperatures. Ayyyy-men.

The past few weeks have been a total thrill; work has been most productive and gratifying, the long days demand a boost in social life, and as each day quickly passes I find myself falling deeper in love with Tallinn. It’s a problem.  I’m addicted.

I’ve befriended my neighbor who is a pianist, Jazz lover, and king of cultural activities in Estonia. He’s shown me more Tallinn the past 3 weeks than I’ve seen the past 8 months. I’ve seen live Jazz, been to an abundance of underground bars, seen the best of Estonian design in ex Soviet factories, jumped on rooftops I never knew existed, and was this (___) close to hopping on a midnight train to Russia.  And somehow, unexpectedly, the first few pages of my spring chapter have been off to an exciting start!

But that’s not all: On late Thursday night, another American volunteer landed in Tallinn. He will be here for the next 40 days – working on projects with me, seeing the Baltics I’ve grown to love, and creating his own personal journey in this beautiful region of the world. I know for sure my life here will spice up exponentially having another volunteer by my side – and I’m so pumped to see how my days continue to twist and turn in this new season, new chapter.

On Friday, the teen leaders and I had our last Teen’s Program; the program was about Shavuot – so we decided to take a modern interpretation of the 10 commandments and create commandment-oriented scenes throughout the city. The teens got a map of Tallinn with X’s on them and had to perform challenges like “Chubby bunny (stuff your face) with marshmallows by the harbor” (from the commandment: Do not covet); or “Sneak a shopping cart out of the supermarket” (from the commandment: Do not steal); the program was a hit and we had more attendees than we’ve had the majority of the year – we got some great photos of the program, so enjoy them below!

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Wishing you all a happy start to the summer season!

Over and out,

Jenstonia – addicted to Estonia

Links to my travels:

Berlin, Germany: https://plus.google.com/photos/108399238466982579218/albums/5871669855200234561?authkey=CIKqm47r6YKDowE

Prague, CZ: https://plus.google.com/photos/108399238466982579218/albums/5871655133395175377?authkey=CKv2qKb138umTw

Vienna, Austria: https://plus.google.com/photos/108399238466982579218/albums/5871649900204317425?authkey=CMaa9IP2wrKEJg

Budapest, Hungary: https://plus.google.com/photos/108399238466982579218/albums/5871645307644315921?authkey=CMCPpYeH1dvNFg

The Power of Returning

“There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered” – Nelson Mandela, my South African homeboy.

I think of this phrase each time I return – to anywhere really. This time I was returning to Israel for the first time, meaning it was my second visit to the Land of Milk and Honey.

Last week, I went to Israel for the JDC JSC [Jewish Service Corps] Midyear seminar; all 25 fellows traveled from their placements (Buenos Aires, Haiti, Rwanda, etc.) and met in Jerusalem for 4-days of reflection, learning, and re-motivating for the last half of our placements – and all those things happened.

Before I go any further, you must know it’s absolutely abhorrent to believe it’s been 6 (or “midyear”) months since I’ve been in Estonia. Yeah, abhorrent, I said that. My next choice would have been heinous. I don’t even know what 6 months is supposed to feel like when jumping in and adapting to an entirely new country, new city, new working environment, new languages, new friends, etc. I will say, however, feeling-wise it seems as though I’ve been here for 6 years, work-wise, I’ve only just begun. Oh, 6 months, why don’t you come attached with a specific feeling?

Estonia still looks like this though —> 

Back to Israel: My first visit was with Birthright in 2010. I’m just gonna throw it out there: I had such high expectations (I now laugh at how high they were). Expectations to connect with the people, the land, my Judaism, and every last fiber of my being. Unrealistic much? Maybe this was the effect of 20+ years of “Israel Days” at camp, “Israel Weeks” at university, meeting sexy IDF soldiers, or repping the Israeli flag because that’s what everyone else did. I left Israel disconnected and disappointed, wondering why, if this country was the birthplace of Judaism and my people, did I not feel a part of it?

My return last week was my opportunity to feel something; expectations lowered, no over-thinking, no over-hoping or wishing that I get hit with a spark of spirit that subconsciously has me reciting Torah in perfect Hebrew as I walk through the Old City. I mean, who has that kind of vision anyway? (Answer: 20 year-old Jen)

Thurs, 28 Feb: I flew into Israel a few days before the seminar so I could run the Jerusalem Marathon (or 10k) with my friend and fellow JSC-er who lives in Jerusalem. I cab to meet my friend at the JDC-Israel office and we walk up the JLM hills to pick up our race packets at the Convention Center. (Pause)

Thought #1: I fly in by myself and meet my friend and fellow JSC fellow outside of the JDC-Israel Office.

Thought #2: In 2010, I had no idea what JDC was, and had it not been for JDC, I would have never met friend, which means I would have never run the Jerusalem Marathon or met friend outside of the JDC-Israel office. Man oh man, so much has changed since 2010.

Thought #3 and summation: I like the direction my life is going!

(Unpause)

We get our race packets in a sea of neon-colored booths: Saucony, Nike, Gatorade power gel, water bottles, nordic walking poles, t-shirts, t-shirts, and more t-shirts. Oh yeah, and the booths were in Hebrew.

Thought #1: Omg, I love tennis shoes.

Thought #2: Israel, you’re looking mighty good this trip.

We head back to a home-cooked and carb-filled dinner to prepare for the race in the morning.

The next scene you can find me fighting back tears as I run through the Old City with thousands of other runners, donkeys and goats on the mountain to my left, the sun beaming down us north-polers in desperate need of a tan, locals holding signs saying,“keep smiling, you’re almost done!”, and friend by my side up and down every bloody hill.

We finish the race together and gorge on hummus, pita, and pickles with other JSC-ers who ran and JSC-ers who came to cheer us on.

Hmmmm, I sigh, with my forming shin splints and broken hips, “I’m in Israel”.

I said this over and over again the rest of the week. I’m in Israel. And this time, I felt it.

That evening brought Shabbat dinner with other JSC-ers, bottles of wine open, and loud, tri-lingual conversations of our lives all over the world. “Yes, we’re the only white people in the village in Rwanda” or “Yes, I’ve never seen a non-white person in Estonia”. These exchanges were beautiful. 4 others speak Russian in the room, and I understand it … that would have never happened in 2010.

Sunday, 3 March: At last the seminar begins. The last time we were in the same room together was in August for orientation, and here we are, midyear, in Jerusalem. The symbolism off the charts.

We all sit in a large circle and smirk at one another, happy to be in the same room and in company of those who may be experiencing similar things and have a general shared sense of understanding the world in which we live.

4 days of introspection, reflection, reevaluating expectations, and setting new goals for ourselves. Each of us experiencing such vastly different things, but still able to connect and support one another. I often introspect introspection, and I can tell you the conversations that were taking place those 4 days in Jerusalem were nothing shy of brilliant. For some reason I choose to not analyze, the level of openness and comfort in vulnerability were things I had never seen in a group dynamic. Let’s be real, the process of moving to a new country and getting comfortable with new working environments definitely has some challenges.

I am a firm believer that being okay with feeling vulnerable leads to growth in directions we may not reach if we remain guarded and protected. Pride and control seem to be constants in that wall we love building. The vulnerability I witnessed in those 4 days led to empathy (not sympathy) and you could actually see that feeling of ‘alone’, in which many felt, slowly drifted away. The absence of alone brought new ideas and a support network to cheer-on those ideas. Just like that. 4 days.

Sidenote: If you’re interested in learning more about the power of vulnerability, I really recommend this TedTalk:

 

The fact that I was experiencing and witnessing these things in Jerusalem could not have been more meaningful to me. Powerful sessions in conference rooms during the day led to powerful conversations at dinner and bars at night. No matter how deeply we yearned to pound shots and get hammered together, we were too into learning about each other’s lives around the world to let any amount of alcohol drunken the conversations.

The end of my trip got me thinking about my connection to Israel. Everything I’ve learned or seen in the past have just been symbols of the state; the Hebrew language, IDF shirts, Israel flags, falafel, hummus, etc. For me, it takes positive, low-key experiences like running through Jerusalem, understanding how the city is spaced out, knowing where the local supermarket is, and drinking beers with friends who live here to feel connected. The second question is, why does it have to be more than that? Having these experiences fuels me with a desire to return and see my friends again, run the marathon in less time (get 4,000^th place instead of 6,000^th), or befriend those donkeys and goats I saw on the mountain. Getting a taste of real life in Israel and walking the streets with friends will get me back. Undoubtedly.

I haven’t said this to them yet, but I am so grateful to my friends and fellow JSC-ers for showing me the Jerusalem they know and love. Little did they know, but they were strengthening the connection to Israel that I’ve yearned for since I was little. There’s no question I will come back to further explore — I am finally connected. I wonder how Mandela’s quote will come into play the second time I return?

And then I went to Athens and Istanbul to get my tourist on! 1 day in each city meant walking 12 hours a day and LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT. Some photo’s below!

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Tomorrow I am off to “L’chaim”, or Estonia’s annual “Spring Camp”! I haven’t been to camp in 4 years, so yawl know how excited this girl is! J

To returning,

Jenstonia – campcounselorforever

23 in estonee: a birthday blog

Let’s just say this week has been full of surprises.

[No pictures for 5ish paragraphs due to context of surprise] 😉

Beginning on Monday with the Border & Immigration police pointing to December 19^th (my birthday) and reprimanding in broken English, “You must go back to America on this day.” My eyes widened, partially due to the dryness caused by the frigid winter temperatures. I curiously responded, “Does it have to be America?”

“UK, London, Africa, just not in Europe”.

I thought, “Okay, okay, I can work with that.” I traveled the globe in my head… for free.

I made eye contact with my supervisor who was also serving as my translator and instantly shook the romantic thoughts. Back to mirroring the police and putting my Estonian government-worker face on; AKA: Serious and stoic, yet secretly yearning for light and goofy energy.

After another day at the Department on Tuesday, my boss exclaimed, “Wouldn’t it be the best birthday present ever if Estonia lets you stay in the country?!” My eyes went to the right and my head slowly nodded, “Best birthday present everrrr”, I said in an uber-American accent, drawing out the “r” until my brain signaled for an emergency breath.

After a lot of Estonian and a little (or zero) understanding, my boss looked at me concerned, insisting, “Let’s meet tomorrow at 11am to discuss this Visa issue…”

2 words pop in my head, “Oh” and “Shit”.

OH SHIT.

With visa stress combined with annual birthday stress, I think my coworkers knew the only 2 words that had the power to fight off these demons: SUSHI and WINE.

 

Sushi and wine and everything’s fine. I went to bed Tuesday evening digestively and intoxicatingly coated to perfection.

I awoke to Skype and FaceTime calls, emails, and various other messages. My birthday arrived and I felt far from alone with all the non-harmonious ringtones singing. I ate breakfast and opened presents on Skype with mom, FaceTimed with my best friend in the States who has the same birthday as I do, and said goodnight to them as I got ready for my day. A little apprehensive to leave my warm apartment and not only bear the coldest day to date, but have another discussion about my visa.

I took myself, my 2 pairs of pants, stepped outside and welcomed my 90^th day in Estonia. A very important number to the Border & Immigration Department. I walked to the 2^nd floor of the Community and noticed the lights were MIA. I slowly rounded a corner and saw candles flickering through a glass door. I stopped. Meh, probably for a little too long. One of my supervisors motioned me forward, with her face saying, “come on Jen, you can do it, don’t be scared”.

I walk into a dark room only lit by candles and heard, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jennifer Rachel Berman” in perfect English. Someone tells me to make a wish, demanding that it can’t be one about my current visa status. I blow, and I am stuttering in my brain which obviously means I am speaking gibberish from my mouth.

The lights turn on. All my favorite people, some holding flowers, some holding gifts, all holding smiles. I can’t find the words. Part of me wants to cry, part of me wants to jump on everyone with excitement, part of me wants to melt into a little ball and say “awww” for 10-minutes.

Touched. I am so touched. We sit, eat cake, and I stare, totally mesmerized by the people in the room and the fact that they cleared their morning schedules to celebrate someone they’ve only known for 90 days. I’ve got good eggs all around me.

I’m not even at my desk for 30-minutes and 2 teens come from school to sing me happy birthday. In perfect English again,but just freshly Googled. The rest of the day was lovely and light, drastically different from the past 2 days.

The evening brought on another surprise in that I might have had the best Chicago-style pan pizza EVER. As they “cheersed”, I watched the glasses clinking and felt a warmness come over me; partially in utter disbelief that I could be 90 days in a new country, surrounded by a solid group of good friends. Already feeling comfortable enough to yell/whine for English when my brains too tired for Russian… Now that says something.

I engaged in many fits of uncontrollable laughter – to the point of tears and significant pizza calorie burning.

As we put on our gloves and coats, I thanked them for celebrating with me and for making my day so special. The words “thank you for being born” floated through my ringing ears and settled comfortably in my brain. Thank you for being born. Jesus, guys.

What a remarkably special day it turned out to be; honestly, I was a little anxious and so not looking forward to waking up alone in a quiet apartment on my birthday. Usually, I’m cool with it and I rock some tunes to offset the silence, but this was a definite first for a birthday. With technology, thank G-d, I was far from alone. The rest of the day, I was far from it too.

The great news is I’m staying in Estonia, although I can’t travel beyond its’ borders for the next 30 days. Good thing there’s a thousand Estonian islands. I wonder how big the country would be if all the islands were pushed together and added to mainland Estonia? Think about it.

Normally this time of year I would be hopping standby flights to avoid winter in Texas and enjoy summer in South Africa; this includes spending Christmas in the Atlanta airport and not thinking twice about leaving my coat behind. This year I definitely won’t be escaping winter – in fact, I legally cannot. It’s probably not even a good idea to be near the airport, and it’s definitely not a good idea to leave my coat behind. Polar opposite, but it’s what I signed up for! Bring it on.

By the way, Dr. Oz says persimmons and pistachios are good for fighting cardiovascular disease. I thought you should know.

Merry almost-Christmas! Enjoy the spirit of the holidays and spread some joy!

Blurg,

Jenstonia – stayin’ in Estonia. No really, I can’t leave.