Route: From Netanya/Beit Yehoshua to Kfar Saba
Distance: 12 km / 7.4 miles
Time Waited: 2 minutes
The Story: At first, the young man who picked us up seemed like the typical Israeli. Driving a dented small car, wearing a black button-down shirt with jeans, a short beard and glasses. In perfect Hebrew, he informed us he was going to Kfar Saba. We hopped in, glad for the quick ride, and still entertained by the potato packer.
My traveling companion and I spoke English and, turns out, so did our driver, albeit with a slight accent (I'm sure he'd disagree, but my American ears definitely picked up on it). Turns out, he was born and raised in Netanya, but his parents are from New Zealand. After his stint in the Army, he spent 2 whole years chilling in the antipodes. Now he's in school. Up until now, no surprises.
I was tipped off by his subject of study - a method of counseling, based on the New Testament. Hmmm... I'm sure he's mapped out, and is sick of, the "standard" conversation, yet he effortlessly filled in the details. His parents are Christian, and moved to Israel. Not to be missionaries (not that he'd admit his parents were engaged in activities that are illegal here), but just to live. His father works in construction and his mother is an English teacher.
By this time, our 12 km were up, but we were having an interested conversation. He pulled over and we kept talking. I commented on the hardships being a non-Jew in a largely Jewish country. Especially when 99% of the non-Jews are Arabs, whether Christian or Muslim. He agreed, and asked if I'd heard of the term "Furd Culture." I hadn't. He described it as something common amongst children of missionaries, who grow up imbibed by a culture different from their parents', never feeling fully at home in either. He feels most connected with Israeli Christian Arabs, yet openly admits that he'd probably feel like an outsider with them too.
Afterwards, I realized that where solidarity and identification fail, enunciation steps in. Although our driver felt like an outsider in Israel, he was unable, like 99.9% of native Israelis, to pronounce the "th" sound. Yes, obviously I was familiar with the term "Third Culture." Duh.
Distance: 12 km / 7.4 miles
Time Waited: 2 minutes
The Story: At first, the young man who picked us up seemed like the typical Israeli. Driving a dented small car, wearing a black button-down shirt with jeans, a short beard and glasses. In perfect Hebrew, he informed us he was going to Kfar Saba. We hopped in, glad for the quick ride, and still entertained by the potato packer.
My traveling companion and I spoke English and, turns out, so did our driver, albeit with a slight accent (I'm sure he'd disagree, but my American ears definitely picked up on it). Turns out, he was born and raised in Netanya, but his parents are from New Zealand. After his stint in the Army, he spent 2 whole years chilling in the antipodes. Now he's in school. Up until now, no surprises.
I was tipped off by his subject of study - a method of counseling, based on the New Testament. Hmmm... I'm sure he's mapped out, and is sick of, the "standard" conversation, yet he effortlessly filled in the details. His parents are Christian, and moved to Israel. Not to be missionaries (not that he'd admit his parents were engaged in activities that are illegal here), but just to live. His father works in construction and his mother is an English teacher.
By this time, our 12 km were up, but we were having an interested conversation. He pulled over and we kept talking. I commented on the hardships being a non-Jew in a largely Jewish country. Especially when 99% of the non-Jews are Arabs, whether Christian or Muslim. He agreed, and asked if I'd heard of the term "Furd Culture." I hadn't. He described it as something common amongst children of missionaries, who grow up imbibed by a culture different from their parents', never feeling fully at home in either. He feels most connected with Israeli Christian Arabs, yet openly admits that he'd probably feel like an outsider with them too.
Afterwards, I realized that where solidarity and identification fail, enunciation steps in. Although our driver felt like an outsider in Israel, he was unable, like 99.9% of native Israelis, to pronounce the "th" sound. Yes, obviously I was familiar with the term "Third Culture." Duh.
