There is Only One Language that Matters

I hate that I cannot speak Hebrew. Hate it. Not that I can't get along here without it, I can, it's easy to do. Many Israelis speak English, and many speak it very well. And while I hate not knowing what's going on around me, or which meat in the cold cuts section is chicken or what those arsim are saying about me as they point at me at the bar, what really gets me is how it makes me look. I apologize every time I ask someone if they speak English. In the same way I have never, ever wanted to look or act like a tourist, no matter where I go, not being able to speak Hebrew lumps me in with a group that I am uncomfortable being associated with. I don't want to seem like an entitled American asshole who believes everyone should cater to them. I hate asking for an English menu when I'm out...why should you have an American menu for me? It's your country, you don't owe me English, I should suffer if I am not learning your language. I don't want entire groups of Israelis to speak in English (as they will) just for my sake, I'm the idiot, not all you bilingual people. I am trying and learning, but it is a slow process and one that will likely drive me crazy for quite some time to come.

But Maddie, why call your blog post "There is Only One Language that Matters?" Well, my observant and somewhat impatient reader, I will tell you...I just had to get that off my chest. The only language that matters is the language of passion. And I do not mean love, I mean passion. I mean a burning desire for something, for some goal, something that you cannot stop caring about, try though you may (though you wont). There is an understanding that exists betw
een people who have the same passions, and this is where we truly connect as people.

The Man from this past year, the best I've seen. Taken from google
from an article that probably stole it. 

Burners. Burners are great. They are fucking crazy. All year long they dream of a magical place they may or may not have ever been to, and in their yearning create many spaces and opportunities that try to evoke that ethereal feeling that Burning Man provides. They have different reasons for wanting to be there, but there are all united by one idea, that they actually WANT to be there...out in the dust, in the sun and in the wind, surrounded by people or lonely in the deeps, living in tents or RV's or a new shade structure every day. They scrimp and save, they smell and ache, they inflict countless dangers upon themselves from drugs to fire to dust storms to outrageous safety issues...but they all want it. And no matter where they are from, they are all connected.

This past weekend I was lucky enough to attend a burner Purim party. I knew I would love the party because....well....my people would be there. I knew a few people, not many, but I wasn't worried. After all, we're all part of the same tribe. Sure enough I was soon wrapped in conversations of fire and art and inappropriate sexual innuendo. There's a flirting and closeness that exists within this world that is hard to find elsewhere. It was so nice to know I could relax and be myself without some Israeli boy thinking that obviously I must want to fuck him because I am talking crudely. Everyone was there - the impossibly beautiful girl who never stops dancing, the couple that never leaves each other's side, the photographers who smile silently and create excitement just by giving the exhibitionists what they want, the guy puking quietly in the trashcan and thinking no one saw (and returning to drinking), the overworked and finally able to relax (a little) party organizers, the people fixing and then dancing on the stripper pole, the smokers who never leave the outside deck, the person who is too obsessed with their prop, the people who took too much and pass out too quickly, the inexplicable increase in volume of pounding dubstep at 5 am when there is no one left dancing in the room - only sleepers...it was all so familiar. It was all so right. It was such a thrill to have my suspicions confirmed - of course these are the people that will grow to be my friends, we are cut from the same cloth.

Backstage in high school for A Chorus Line,
which would end up being a very important
production for me. That'e me on the far left. 

Before I found burners I still had a tribe, I was always and will always be a thespian. Yesterday I was finally working at a theatre painting costumes (that's right, painting...the designer I work for is so damn cool) while the show was in dress rehearsal. Again I had that wonderful feeling of being at home. Sure, it was a bit nerve-wracking - anyone who has ever been in theatre can tell you what a tight, close-knit group the production becomes by the time actors are in dressing rooms and to be new to the cast AND not be able to speak the language is incredibly intimidating. I was working outside, so I met many of the actors, because of course almost all of them smoke. Again I saw the types I know so well parade in front of me. The actor who sings every other sentence, making sure she drowns out others, the actor who is a prima donna and demands his way, the actor that flirts with EVERYONE, the older actors who sigh and shake their head, the one who is always "on," the stage manager with a constant look of worry on her face, the stage hands who chain smoke and laugh at any sign of stress, the actors who will not eat the provided sandwiches, but their own super healthy low-cal salads, the people who "shh" from the wings and of course my boss, the talented perfectionist who is going to have his way, dammit. It felt so good to be there, even if I couldn't understand most of what was being said. The words are less important, I know these people, and they know me.

Everyone deserves to find their people. If this all sounds foreign to you I urge you to get out there and find your tribe. You are lucky enough to have the internet. Use it. For me, my love of beauty and art and the worship of creativity alongside a love of bawdy and inappropriate humor has led me to the burners. For you, it may be something different. Maybe you love eating rare cheeses, or playing badminton, or 18th century poetry. Maybe it's animal rescue, or exquisite vegan food or belly dancing. Maybe you don't like people that much, that's ok...there are other people like you and everyone needs someone some time. You still have a passion, and your other lone wolves do to. Find them. Maybe you don't love anything at all, chances are you are still passionate, just about something else, like hate. The Tea Party is a great example of people finding each other, they are all united in their passion for hating Obama. You think the KKK demands they get to meet just because they're defending the First Amendment? These are their buddies, their brothers! They want to hang out with like-minded bigots. Their people might suck (in my opinion) but they found each other for a reason. Find your tribe. It's the greatest feeling to know you are not the only one.

I consider myself a burner and an thespian far before I consider myself an American, a Jew, or even a woman. The latter are simply what I was born with, the former I chose and made for myself and that is what truly matters. I know I will always be seen as a woman before anything else and as an American after that, but I try to surround myself with people who will see me as something different, as someone like themselves. I understand these languages, those of the theatre and of burners. I don't need Hebrew to communicate (she says, fully taking advantage of the fact that they all speak English) I just need to be of the same ilk. And I am. We understand each other on a basic level, because we understand at least a little of what drives each other, and not only do we understand, we respect. We respect that the other works so hard to achieve something that very few realize the importance of.

Find your tribe. Life is so much better when you are invigorated by those who understand you. And if you've found your tribe, take care of them. Love them, visit them, connect with them. They are for you as you are for them, and don't ever forget how special that is.