Over the break I went on an Olami trip to Spain, Portugal, and Gibraltar, with a group of people 30+ strong from Houston, Chicago, and Detroit. I'd known some of the Houston group previously, some less than others. Among the many thoughts I had during the trip, several on the human relationship side have stood out. This was easily the best trip of my life. Going in I was apprehensive of traveling in a group this big and indeed the first time that Israeli music blared in a public square in Lisbon I noped out of the big group circle and sing-along in make-believe search for bathrooms. But I grew to really trust the people on the trip and especially the Houston crew, who early on claimed the rear of the bus and stuck around through the remainder of the trip's long bus rides. My laughter flowed free and it's safe to say that I haven't been this happy in a long time.
After the trip, the sore throat that I'd contracted from someone else on the trip (which is how it goes, one person has something and pretty soon some other people do too) became bronchitis and I picked up pink eye in the airport (as I had to travel to and from San Francisco the week after my return). This has left me in a monastic state of silence, unable to speak for more than a few minutes without coughing and subsequent unmanageable strain on my vocal cords. At a time when I'm bursting to relate my thoughts and impressions to my parents who got all sorts of pictures on our shared WhatsApp group, I'm struck dumb by the inevitable post-international-travel sickness.
And so I turn to a blogpost instead, to note the following big change that has crystallized since the trip. Namely, I gained a lot of self-confidence from the trip. In addition to doing a few selfies with the Houston group, I also was able to ask other people on the group to take pictures of me in front of famous tourist landmarks, and some of the fear I'd long borne towards pictures of myself (and my fat-face-a stupenda) melted away. It's become easier for me to look at pictures of myself and not shy away and say I look like crap (although there's no denying that I look a whole a lot better without glasses).
Another thing is that I started reconsidering moving to NYC, as I'd suddenly realized that all my friends and social life are here in Houston. Why move to NYC if all the friends I'd just made on this trip are still staying in Houston? That leaves just one reason to move to NYC: dating. And here's the other thing. After a recent long-distance relationship, where both parties were putting effort into the long-distance deal, I suddenly realized that long distance is a lot harder than I thought and that I'm no longer willing to do long distance dating. Even without my travel to San Francisco, the realization that I can't just go over and visit someone I'm seeing and spend time with her, alone or in a group at an event, without making it a big deal, bothers me a lot, and I'm no longer willing to do that, for anyone really. Phone conversations seriously lack the human, in-person element and I personally can't substitute phone conversations for that. This is why I will start going to Jewston and Moishe House events, even if they are on Shabbos, because I've reached the point in my life where I'd rather compromise on my previously-held beliefs on Jewish observance than pass up on opportunities to meet Jewish women where they are, rather than trust that God will provide in a city that is not friendly to "observant" single young Jewish professionals.
