December 22 （visa expires in 23 days）
“Are you awake?”
“Yes. Just catching up on Facebook.”
He called and I picked up.
“Aha, so you do use social media!”
“Only Facebook. I have an anonymous profile so I can get information from an Israeli digital nomads group.”
“Hey, I’m a member of that group too.”
“But you said you don’t read Hebrew?”
“Yeah. I use Google translate. I really like the guy who’s from Head of the Eye.”
“Head of the eye?”
“Yes. It’s a city, no?”
It took me a moment and then I roared with laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s… just…” I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to explain.
“C’mon tell me. It’s not nice to laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing at you,” I said when I could breathe again. “It’s just a ridiculous Google translation. It is a city, but that’s a literal translation – like calling Los Angeles “The Angels.” It’s called Rosh HaAyin.”
“Ohhh.”
“I can’t believe I just said Los Angeles and Rosh HaAyin in the same sentence.”
“Sometimes things come together in ways we couldn’t have imagined.”
I pondered this statement for a few moments.
“And all this time I thought you were a shallow American. Turns out you’re a Chinese sage!”
“You don’t know me. I have many facets: Mongolian, Thai, Spanish…”
“Spanish?”
“ Cállate la boca! ”
“Wow, you speak Spanish. What does that mean?”
“I think it means shut your mouth. My Spanish teacher would say it to me all the time.”
I cracked up again. Then, after we were quiet for a while, I asked him the question that had been weighing on my mind.
“When are you planning to move on to your next destination?”
“When do you want to have lunch?”
“What will happen to us when you leave?”
“What should we do tonight?”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Evading my questions.”
“You’re evading my present.”
“Be rational. You have to think about the future sometimes.”
“There’s nothing rational about thinking about a future without you. Maybe there’ll be another pandemic and I’ll get stuck here with you. What’s so rational about being sad? It’ll happen eventually, one way or the other, so why think about it?”
“I can’t stop myself from worrying about the future.”
“Maybe you should come with me. We can be nomadic together. Anywhere you like except New York City.”
“Scared of New York?” I teased.
“Besides being the most expensive city in the world, it’s not a good place for nomads.
And going back to the place you were born and raised doesn’t do it.
You don’t get wowed at every turn and the locals’ stories don’t interest you.
But you have a point. I am scared. Going there, and staying for any length of time, would probably be the end of the nomadic chapter of my life.
It was so hard to get away; I don’t know if I’d be able to do it again. ”
“Ok. I get it. But tell me about New York. I’ve always dreamed about going there.”
“The New York you’d like to visit is crazy overcrowded, with homeless people everywhere. You can’t stop in the street because you’ll get trampled. The stench of sewage and the noise from construction are inescapable. And the winters are freezing beyond description.”
“But there must be places that you like.”
“Yeah. There are places in New York where you can escape the things I’ve just described. Central Park is the best, especially in spots like Strawberry Fields where you can’t hear the noise of the traffic.”
“Strawberry Fields?”
“Yes. The memorial for John Lennon. Sometimes there are musicians or performances there and it’s nice to sit and take a break from city life.”
I sent myself a WhatsApp.
“I wrote it down.”
“What?”
“I’ll get there eventually, so I want to remember where to go.”
“The world is so vast. What’s so attractive about New York?”
“It’s a meaningful place for you, which means it will be meaningful for me. I probably won’t get to all the beautiful places you do, but maybe I can at least get to the meaningful ones.”
“Now you’re the one who sounds like a Chinese sage.”
“I thought Americans don’t like the Chinese.”
“We don’t. So stop sounding like one and start sounding like an American idiot.”
“There are more than enough of you already. No need for another one.”
“You are so phobic about Americans, you know.”
“Hey! I have one American friend. I’m not anti-American.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re using me to prove that you’re not anti-American?”
“Yes. Why else would I hang out with you?”
“To score an autograph for you sister, maybe?”
“That too! She’s been missing you. Will you come over again?”
“You’re inviting me for her sake?”
“Of course. It’s not for Naama’s sake – she’s not trash generation, thank god.”
“Oh, drop the defense mechanisms already and admit you want me to come.”
I was momentarily impressed that he’d psychoanalyzed me, but I was stubborn.
“You’ll have to work hard to get it out of me.”
“Challenge accepted. Prepare to declare it soon.”
Daniel sent me a location and asked me to meet him there the next day at noon. He knew I didn’t work on Fridays.
Later, I had an urge to call it all off.
To tell him I couldn’t make it tomorrow.
Just like that. Everything had happened so fast. A month ago we were complete strangers and now I didn’t know how I was going to get over him.
And there it was. I couldn’t help wondering if I was falling for a ruse.
Perhaps Daniel went from place to place, starting relationships quickly because that’s all he had time for, and then dropping the axe on the unsuspecting person when he decided to move on.
How could I trust someone so quickly? He, unlike me, lived life as a nomad.
I just lived in a foreign country. Sometimes I wondered if I should go with him, but I was scared of the emotional fallout.
After everything I’d been through, the stability I’d found in Thailand was very precious.
How could I give it up for someone I’d only known for a month?