Saraya Ziv
My blogs
| Introduction | My first months as an immigrant to Israel I was terrified I’d take the Jerusalem light rail to the wrong stop and find myself in Syria. I still calculate trip length by how many natives or tourists I need to ask how to get my destination. Each person, finger pointed that way or this, straight or in circles, is a story. Why I left Yankee games, my purple cashmere gloves, and all my lifelong connections to New York to live here is also a story; one so complex and private I’ve yet to reveal it to myself. |
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