7 hours at the border with a broken foot, mostly just hanging about waiting for yet another person to question me about what I'll be doing, my background and the reasons behind various decisions I've made in my life
New people and old friends
Hummos and countless cups of tea
News of protests that will soon be forgotten
The genuine pleasure of seeing some of my old students
The reality of it though is that I'm already tired. It's draining crossing that border and it doesn't feel good to be treated that way.
It's an intensely difficult thing to have to negotiate your pride in who you are with a fear of how you could be judged.
During those 7 interminable hours my passion and excitement seeped out of me and I've not yet managed to shake off the sense of apathy that took its place.
I really am looking forward to starting work and seeing my kids at school again. I hope that once I've settled back in I'll feel that same joy that I remember from last year.
Right now though, I'm really missing that sense of hope.