Moving On

It has now been a little over a month since I moved to Vietnam, and I must say that things are going great. I am very truly happy with my life here. Of course things are not perfect, but this is the best I have felt in a very long time.

But I must say, that there are times that I feel bad for being so happy, so soon after my parents were killed. I remember after being told that my parents didn't survive, that I could not imagine ever being happy again. And yet, its less then a year later and I am doing great.

I remember at one point during my stay in the rehab center, I was feeling very lonely at nights. I felt that pretty much everyone in my family was married and could lean on their partner for support, but I was single and had to get through the sad nights alone. So I started to visit online dating sites to chat with guys in an attempt to find some kind of companionship. I even thought that maybe I would find someone that I could possibly be with once I got out of the rehab center. But this made me feel very guilty. How could I be thinking about dating so soon after loosing my parents?

I mentioned to a friend that I had been visiting online dating sites and talking to people in an attempt to find some companionship. I told her how guilty I felt because of this. She told me that I should not feel guilty, and that life has to go on. Sitting around and wallowing in sadness for the sake of being sad does no good for anyone. Of course she was right. So why do I now still feel guilty sometimes for having moved on with my life?

There is not a day that goes by that I do not think about my parents. I miss them terribly. I wish I could share with them all the wonderful experiences I am having. I wish that I could speak to them and try and convince them to come out here and visit me. I know that they didn't think so, but they would have really enjoyed a trip out here.

My parents deaths have left a hole in my life that nothing can ever fill. No matter how happy I ever am, they will always be missing. My life will never feel a hundred percent right. But staying sad all the time for the sake of staying sad helps no one. So I've moved on.

I know that there are people that have a set idea of how much time after a tragedy someone must wait before moving and rebuilding. Some people get this amount of time based on their religious beliefs, some might come up with a number based on certain "social standards". Growing up as an Orthodox Jew, I was always told that this was 11 months. But the truth is that the number varies from person to person. Some people need to mourn longer and some need to move on quicker. Any attempt to force someone into some uniformed standard will probably do more harm then good.

There will be a moment every day for the rest of my life that I think about how I lost my parents and I will be sad. But the moment will pass and I will go on doing what I have to in order to be happy. A life spent being miserable is not a life that I would want to live. So I've moved on.

You Have Never Seen Anything Like This!

I really love being in Vietnam. I have a great time and I think this country has a lot to offer. Of course that does not mean that Vietnam does not have its faults. One of the craziest things I have ever seen and experienced is the road and driving culture of this country. If you have never been here, I promise that you have never seen anything like it.

To start off with, at any given intersection, there can easily be 50, 60, plus motor bikes crowded together, waiting to continue on. It is not uncommon to see a family of three or four people on the same motorbike.

A family of 4 on one bike waiting at a crowded intersection

I am always impressed by the the ladies wearing nice dresses or skirts, who somehow keep their balance while riding side saddle as the bike weaves and shakes through traffic. Why is the bike weaving and shaking through the traffic? That is because there are basically no rules on the roads of Hanoi. The traffic patterns in Hanoi can only be described as chaos. Some motorbikes go slow and block traffic, while others speed around them cutting one another off. Many motorbikes do not have rear view mirrors, so everyone is constantly tapping on their horn to inform their fellow drivers of where they are on the road. Of course the lack of rear view mirrors are less of an issue for the drivers going the wrong way down the road. And all of this is going along as every motorbike driver is trying to avoid the ever growing number of cars on the road. (Video below)

This might sounds very scary to someone that has never seen anything like it. However, having driven here in Hanoi, I realized that this chaos actually works. In general, no one wants to be in an accident, so most drivers are very careful. On top of that, traffic in the city rarely goes any faster then 30 or 40 km/h (18mph to 25mph). Driving in Hanoi is one of the more interesting experiences I have ever had. And once you are in the traffic, you realize it is not that scary.

What really was scary was being in a car outside of the city. Two weeks ago, me and some friends went on a trip to an Island. We had to go to the port by Ha Long, a 5 hour drive from Hanoi. Most of the roads up to Ha Long were 2 lane highways that cut right through small villages and cities along the way.

A Map of our route to Ha Long

For the locals of these villaes, the road is a local one, and they dive along the road at the same slow pace as in Hanoi. But for those using the roads as a highway, they speed along at speeds up to 80 or so km/h (50mph plus). And of course people are weaving in out of traffic trying to avoid the slow drivers, not to mention the vehicles that are going the wrong way down the highway. Besides the speeds, another major difference between these roads and Hanoi is that most of the vehicles are not motorbikes, rather they are huge trucks and buses. I remember sitting in the front seat of our taxi when all the sudden a huge dump truck was heading right for us. And amazingly enough, I was the only one in the car that was scared. For everyone else, this is simply how people drive here.

So being on the roads of Vietnam is an experience in of itself. I hope I did a good job of explaining the organized chaos. You should really come and experience it for yourself. It is quite astonishing.

The Vietnamese are either the world'ss best drivers, or the worst. I have yet to figure out which.

I'm in Vietnam!

Its been about two weeks since I last posted and a very eventful and busy two weeks at that. In fact, I will probably have to divide the events into multiple posts. But the most important bit of news is, I am finally in Vietnam. Years of dreaming, planning, and overcoming obstacles have finally led to this moment.

Over the weeks leading up to my arrival in Vietnam, my friends kept asking me if I was excited yet. I always answered, not yet, but probably when I am on the plane. But once I was on the plane, I still was not excited. After my string of bad luck, I guess I was still prepared for something to go wrong. But nothing went wrong and as soon as my plane touched down in Hanoi, I became so excited and was smiling from ear to ear.

I was met at the airport by my dear friend Hoang. It was so wonderful and emotional seeing him for the first time in nearly two years. The truth is that I was a bit nervous that after not seeing each other for so long, it might be hard to get back into our old the rhythm of joking around. But my concerns were unwarranted. It was as if no time had passed. That is the way it is with special friendships.

Me and Hoang

After a week or so of bouncing around and a trip to Bangkok (I hope to write about the trip in a different post), I finally found the apartment that I will be calling home for the near future. It is a really nice apartment, large roomy and comfortable.But more interesting then the apartment itself, is the location. Back in 2011, during my trip to Vietnam, the area around Truch Bach lake became one of my favorite places in the city. When I was bored, I use to go ride around the lake and enjoy the view and cool air. And now, nearly two years later, I am living about a 1 minute walk away from the lake. During all those many drives around the lake, I never even imagined I could live there, and yet here I am.

Truch Bach Lake

My whole moving to Vietnam can be looked at in a similar way. While I had planned this and wanted it for a while, the accident, the loss of my parents and my injuries really could have put an end to my plans. I know that many of my friends told me that they expected me to give up on this particular dream after the accident. But I did not. A mere 7 months after everything was destroyed, I am living a dream and for the most part, I am happy.

Who would have thought?  :)

A Letter to my Parents: No. 2

Dear Mommy and Abba,

It has been a tough, emotional week. Since most of the day I just sit at home alone while everyone I know is at work or school, I have lots of time to think. To start with, Monday would have been your birthday Abba. To be honest, I have been so bored, and have had nothing to do, so I rarely look at a calender and am more often than not unaware of the exact date. The day almost slipped by without me noticing that it was in fact March 18th. However, since I had to switch the billing notifications that used  your email to my email, I received a number of "Happy Birthday Ari Horowitz" emails. When I saw these emails, my first reacting was to feel sad and to miss you, which was soon followed by guilt for not realizing up to that point that it was your birthday. Sorry.

Since that day, there has been lots of talk about Pesach (Passover). Everyone is being very sweet and concerned for me. I have been invited to spend the seder (Passover holiday meal) with many different people. While I do appreciate everyone's invitations, I have decided to stay home and skip the seder this year. While I am sure this is not what you would have wanted, I really don't see another option.

Up until this year, I have spent every single seder with you both. Even when I was in the army, I always managed to arrange vacation for the holiday and you flew into Israel so we could spend the holiday together. The idea of sitting at a seder without hearing the songs sung by people other then the two of you is something I really don't think I could handle. I cannot imagine a seder without your Zionist interpretations of the story Abba. And Mommy, who else will whisper back and forth with me about how things are taking too long and we have to speed up?

I remember last year's seder when it was just the three of us at a hotel by the Dead Sea. We discussed that since I was planning to move to Vietnam in December of 2012, that I would have to fly back to Israel for Pesach, 2013so that the whole family could be together for the holiday. It was just so obvious that we would spend the holiday together. I never could have imagined that that would be our last Pesach together.

So, while I know that you would prefer that I would agree to join a different seder this year, I would much rather simply ignore the holiday as best as I can. If I were to go to another seder, I imagine that I would just be sad the entire time and that would not be nice for me or my hosts.

I really miss the both of you very much. Now that I am back in Israel, I still find myself every Friday (including today) anticipating a phone call at 2pm, just like you had done almost every Friday over the last 10 years. I miss talking to you and seeing you. It will never feel normal that you are not around anymore. You will always be missing.

I am about to take a big step in my life when I move to Vietnam in 19 days from now. I know that this was a dream of mine that made you both very apprehensive, but at the same time you supported me because you knew that it was important to me. It is going to be very hard not being able to share this with you.

All I can say is that no matter what happens in my future, I will always be thinking of you both. And I guess that in some twisted, psychological way that will be my way of continuing to share my life with you even though you are gone. It will have to do.

I will love you both forever,

Ami

My Parents

Sharp Turn Ahead

I used to have very specific long term dreams. When I was a young teenager, my dream was to move to Israel, join the army and become a career officer. In the end, I moved to Israel, joined the army, realized that I hated every second of being in the army, and dumped the idea of becoming an officer.  My next dream was to go study at a university, get into a graduate program as quickly as possible, and start a career in academia. And of course, the idea of being a successful academic was part of a larger dream of building a life for myself in Israel. In the end, I started my studies as soon as I possibly could, signed up for a joint BA/MA program, learned that I did not enjoy the world of academia and dropped the idea of becoming an academic.And the longer I lived in Israel, the more I realized, I really do not like living in Israel.

Is anyone else noticing a pattern here? Some might say that I am a quitter. I would disagree with them because while I moved on from ideas that no longer made me happy, I never quit. I finished my army service, I finished my schooling and I've lived in Israel for 10 years.

When I used to hear about people that were "trying to find themselves", I would feel very superior. I used to be so sure that I knew who I was and where I wanted to go. What were these "flakes" doing traveling to India or some other seemingly random exotic country to find selves? I always knew who I was, how could someone not know who they are? What did it mean to "find one's self"?

It turns out that I was not superior. Nor did I know myself. Anyone that knows me, or has read this blog knows how true that is. I once thought I was a heterosexual, religious guy. I have since "realized" (grown?) that I am a homosexual, secular guy. I used to be someone who's identity was deeply rooted in Jewish nationalism and I have since realized that I am an intense individualist. I used to be someone with very specific long term dreams. I am now a person that has no idea what I want to do, or where I want to be in the long run.

In 23 days, my 10 and a half years of living in Israel will be coming to an end and I will be moving across Asia to Vietnam. Why? Because I want to (that is the easiest answer). And because I am on a journey to find myself. (I know, I am such a flake!) I am starting a new chapter with the hope that this change will make me happier and that maybe I will learn some more about myself and where where I want to go.

When I started this blog, the main idea was to write about my leaving religion, and my coming out as gay. I chose the name "Off the Path and onto the Road" because it symbolized the orthodox Jewish view of me going astray from the "religious path" and my view of starting to proceed on my own road. Those chapters in my life are over for now and my road is leading to other new adventures.

 While I am sure I will continue to write about religion on occasion, I assume there will be less motivation once I am in Vietnam. I assume that the main focus of my writing will be about being a stranger in a strange land (extra points to those that get the Bible reference) and my continues search for happiness and love. I do hope that my readers that have followed me along my road thus far will continue to follow me as the road takes a drastically different shape. And as always, I am deeply touched by each and every one of you that reads what I have to share. Thank you.

The Last Month

It has been about a month since I left America to come back to Israel, and since I last wrote here in my blog. I would like to apologize for not writing as often as I had in the past. But the truth is I have not had much to write about and have had a major lack of inspiration. Simply put, my life has been pretty uneventful lately. But this will all change soon...

Now that I am back in Israel, I am slowly closing up my life here. I am finishing up my degree and dealing with banking issues and Israeli bureaucracy. These are hardly the types of events that lead to great blog posts.

While I originally thought that I would go back to work when I got back to Israel, I returned to find out that there was no room for me at my old job, nor could I find a new job for the  2 months that I had left in Israel. So most of the time, I am simply bored.

However, in exactly one month from today, I will be taking the next major step in my life's journey. On April 9th I will board a plane and will be moving to Viet Nam. While this move was planned over two years ago, it has gained considerable significance over the last half year. Six months ago my life was forever changed when my parents were killed and I was badly injured in a freak car accident. For those that have been following my blog, they know that over the last few months I have struggled with coming to grips with the loss my parents, facing my own mortality, and trying to find a positive out look on my future.

From Israel to Viet Nam

This move to Viet Nam offers me a new beginning. Of course a real new beginning is not possible. I will always be who I am and I will always have experienced what I have experienced. But now I am going to a completely new country, with a different culture, different challenges and different possibilities. I will be looking for a new job and meeting new people. And anyone that knows me, knows that I have not been happy with life in Israel for some time now.I am hoping that this drastic change of setting will help me find the happiness for which I am so intensely looking.

Hanoi, Viet Nam - Where I will be moving to

Life in Hanoit should prove to be very different then life in Tel Aviv or New Jersey

Now begins my last month in Israel. I hope that it will present me with more interesting and inspiring experiences so that I can update this blog more often. But if it does not, I am sure that my move across the globe on April 9th with lead to some interesting posts. So stay tuned!

Living with my Mortality

It is a sad fact that death is a major part of life.The chances are that the longer you live, the more encounters with death you will experience. While ideally most of the people that a person will know that die will be old and have lived full lives, this is not always the case. The early death of young people was a topic of conversation in my life from a very young age. My father's brother, my Uncle Natan was killed in a car accident shortly after my birth. In fact my sister Natanya was named for our uncle. Growing up, we were both told many stories about what a wonderful and amazing person Uncle Natan was and how much everyone loved him. I remember asking my mom once when I was little if Uncle Natan was so wonderful and was not old, how come he died. I was told that god had taken him "because he was too good for this earth."

My next experience with someone dying "before their time" was sadly a childhood friend. When I was about 13 or 14 years old, I had a friend from the neighborhood who was 12 years old who died from cancer. Our families were close friends and I had known him for most of my young life. He was the nicest kid and everyone loved him. I remember when I was told that he had died once again being confused. How was it that such a good and young person could die? But then I remembered the explanation my mother had given me about my uncle's death and it seemed to make sense for my friend's death as well.

The next time death of a young person became part of my life was when I was around 15 years old. In this case, it is not an actual death, but rather the threat of death. As I have written about in previous posts that after a rabbi taught me that gay people deserve to die, I began to expect my own death all of the time. Whether in a plane going through turbulence, or in a car making a sharp turn, I would often think to myself, "this is when god is going to kill me." The thought of my early death became a regular part of my daily life.

The death of young people returned to my life in the summer of 2006 while I was serving in the Israeli Army during the war in Lebanon. While I knew 11 people that were killed in the war, there were 3 that I knew very well. The first was my friend Kobi who was 20 years old. We had completed basic training together. He was killed when his tank went up on a landmine. Next my friend Michael Levine who was a grade younger than me in our elementary school and we completed the Army's course for new immigrants together. Last was another friend named Ami that was in basic training with me. He was 22, newly married and expecting his first child when an anti-tank missile hit his tank and killed him. At this point in my life, I stopped asking for reasons and just accepted that we live every day under the treat of death.

And of course most recently I have suffered through the death of my parents, who were killed in a car accident. My parents were 51 years old, an age that may have once seemed old to me when I was a kid, but I now realize how young my parents were. I was also badly hurt in that accident and am still working on my recovery 2 months later. It is not lost on me, how close I came to being killed as well.

All of these experiences have lead me to have a very strong awareness of my mortality. I know that life can end at any moment. I also know that as things are right now in my life, I am not happy. The idea that I could die before ever having found my happiness is very scary and it motivates me to go out and find my happiness. I know the last time I felt truly happy was when I was in Vietnam. It is an amazing environment and culture that suits me well. I have met the most amazing friends there and even had some dating success during my short time there. I am sure that for these reasons, along with many other reasons, his is a step in the right direction for me. However, there are a growing number of obstacles that are delaying my departure and this causes me to worry.

What if something were to happen to me? I am terrified that the longer I delay my plan, the greater the chances I myself could die before having a chance to go. While I know this is not the right way to see life, after all that has happened, who can blame me for me for being so aware of my mortality? But the truth is that no one knows when their time will come. The chances of me dying are no greater than anyone else dying. I just have to keep searching for my happiness and hope for the best. And frankly, I am sick and tired of death and I am looking forward to being able to focus on life.

How Judaism Haunts Me and Why I Must Leave Israel

Many people I know don't understand why I hate Judaism so much. They think that since I am no longer practicing, I should just move on. They do not understand why I write about it and talk about it as much as I do. The reason is that Judaism haunts me. I know this might sound dramatic and might be hard for some to understand. In fact, it is often hard for me to put into words and explain. So that is where this post comes in. Hopefully what I write here, along with any comments/conversation that stems from this post, will be clear enough to explain my feelings.

Most of my religious life was very complicated. I was a very proud, religious Zionist and in many ways radical about my connection to Judaism - the religion and the people. However, at the same time I always resented the burden I felt came along with this. I remember at a young age, a friend of my parents brought to a Sabbath lunch a woman that was in the process of converting. I could not understand why anyone would ever want to volunteer to be part of Orthodox Judaism. I figured I was born into it and did not have a choice and therefore I should embrace it. But given the choice, I would never choose it.

A fellow blogger friend of mine, Coin Laundry recently posted a comment on Facebook that reminded me about a debate I had with a bunch of friends when I was around 14 years old. I had asked my friends, if they were to discover that they were not really Jewish by birth, would they convert. Interestingly the majority of the boys said no and the majority of the girls said yes, but overall more said yes than no. I was shocked. I would have been so relieved to discover I was not Jewish. Who needs all the constraints, the guilt and the responsibility? I later brought the question up to my father. He answered that he would convert as well. Again, I was shocked. Why would anyone want this as part of their life?

As I got older, my sexuality became quite the burden. I could not help being attracted to guys. Every time I prayed I would ask "god" to take these feelings away, because I did not want to sin, but could not help myself. On Yom Kippur (the Jewish day of atonement and judgment) I would beg "god" to spare my life. I would tell him that if he just took away this attraction than I wouldn't be so tempted and everything would be OK. Of course I remained attracted to guys and my feelings of guilt and fear of heavenly punishment grew all the time.

When I finally left Judaism behind, there was an amazing burden lifted from my shoulders. (I still tried to hide the fact I was gay but that was because of my family, not religion). Slowly I was able to learn to think freely and resented myself less and less. I was free.

But of course I live in Israel, the Jewish country. Everywhere I look, I am constantly reminded of religion. Religious parties sit in the government and push their agenda on the nation. My university requires all Jewish students to take Judaic courses. When going out, kosher vs non Kosher food, open on the Sabbath or closes, all must be taken into account. On the Sabbath their is no public transportation. Religious people sit on the street corner and try and convince you to follow their ways. Old senile men like Ovadia Yosef wave great power here, just because they are Rabbis with many followers. And while in theory all of these things can be easily ignored, for me they are a constant reminder of the feelings I had back when I was religious.

I think a good analogy would be to a man who was imprisoned and is released after many years. He can walk around freely and do whatever he pleases. His life is his own. However, he would not want to see prison guards, barbed wire and jail cells everywhere he looked. These things may not be a part of his life anymore, but he most certainly would not want to be reminded about it all the time.

This is why I feel that I must leave Israel behind. I need to put some space between me and my past so that I can properly "get over it". While I will probably never embrace Judaism ever again, I do not want to hate it forever. I hope with my planned move across the globe to Vietnam at the end of this year, I can begin to finally move on.

The Day I Told My Parents

From the moment I first started to tell my friends I am gay, I knew that an invisible countdown had started until the day I would have to tell my parents. I did not know how they would take the news. They had reacted much worse than I ever expected when I told them that I was no longer religious. I thought that this bit of information might push them over the edge.

As time passed the reasons for my apprehension grew. My parents decided one night to sit me down and tell me that if I ever were to marry a non Jewish girl, our relationship would be over. During that talk, I thought about telling them that they need not worry about me marrying any kinda girl, but I did not know if that would make things worse or what. On the one hand I would not be intermarrying in a form of marriage they would recognize. On the other hand, I was gay. Over the years, I had heard my parents use anti-gay slurs in conversation. But I had discovered while coming out to friends that while people might not like "gays" in theory, once a close friend comes out to them, they get over it. Would this hold true for my parents as well?

I decided I would put off having this particular conversation with them as long as possible. More so, I decided I would wait for them to ask me. I wanted to avoid the drama of a big coming out announcement. As time passed I would drop hints, hoping that they would understand and bring up the subject. Dropping hints was easy. Being a 26 year old guy from an orthodox Jewish family, the topic of dating and marriage is brought up very often. Whereas once I would be very open and honest about my dating life, I started to give very vague answers. I would say things like, "That part of my life is private", or simply "don't worry about that".

Of course, with every passing month my fear grew. I started having nightmares about their reaction to the news. Sometimes they would kick me out of the family. Other times they would get depressed, lose their sanity and their lives would be destroyed.  While I knew most of these dreams were not realistic, they still added to my fear. I could not work up the courage to tell them and continued to wait for them to ask.

In the summer of 2011 I made my trip to Vietnam. Every few days I would post pictures online so that my friends and family could see. I knew my parents were expecting/scared that I would meet a Vietnamese girl while traveling. But none of the pictures I ever posted showed me with any girls, just guys. I knew that, coupled with the other "hints" would finally get my parents to suspect that I am gay. I started to get myself emotionally prepared for the conversation that I knew was coming when I would get back to Israel.

A few days after I got back, my family was moving apartments. For some reason I "knew" that my parents were going to bring it up in the middle of the move. And sure enough, while I was unpacking boxes in my new room, my dad came in and closed the door. He said that he had a question and he couldn't not know the answer to it any more. He asked, "Are you not interested in girls? It might be none of my business, but I have to know". I answered that it is OK to ask and that it is true that I am not interested in girls. I told him that I tried to be, but I just wasn't. He hugged me and said that it will be OK and that he still loves me. He then went to the old apartment to tell my mom.

After he brought my mom back to the new house, my dad came upstairs and told me that my mom was waiting for me downstairs. I was so scared. I waited a few minutes to work up my courage to go downstairs. When I finally did, I saw my mom sitting on the couch crying. I sat next to her and we talked for a little bit. When she calmed down she said that she still loves me no matter what.

After that I left the house and wandered around the neighborhood calling friends. I really don't remember much. I remember the fiends that I spoke to, Ben, Ella, David Avishai, Hoang, and I remember they were all helpful. But I do not remember what we said to each other. That day was very difficult, but I am glad it is behind me. Today, my relationship with my parents is better than it has been in a long time and I no longer have to hide anything from them. I hope with time, things will continue to improve and that some day, I will have a family of my own that my parents will love and accept.

The Time of my Life

June 30th, 2011 I finally landed in Hanoi my dream trip to Vietnam had begun. I was very excited. I had signed up for classes in Vietnamese and in my free time I planned to travel and live life to its fullest. Everyday I would go to class at 830, study for 3 hours and than have the afternoon and evening free. At the airport I was greeted by a guy named K (he would not want me to use his real name). I had met K on the internet a few months earlier and we had become pretty close. He was very helpful in getting me set up in Hanoi. He introduced me to his friends, showed me around the city and taught me how to drive a motor bike.

My time in Vietnam was exactly what I needed intellectually as well as emotionally. On the intellectual side, I learned a lot of Vietnamese and I got to see some amazing historical sites. I ate all kinds of amazing and unique foods. I got to experience Vietnamese culture first hand and I loved it. Emotionally, my trip came at the right time in my life. Almost every person I met while I was there was gay. I was able to be open and honest and act however I felt comfortable. I went from being  "that guy coming out of the closet", to just another guy. Every time I kissed a guy while I was there (so many beautiful Asian guys;)), it felt completely normal and main stream as opposed to in Israel where it always felt taboo. I no longer thought to myself that I was dealt a bad hand of card and that if I could become straight I would. I had carved out my own little "gay world" in Hanoi and this allowed me to finally become completely comfortable with my homosexuality.

About a week or so into my trip I got a text message from a guy named Hoang. Before I left for Hanoi, my friend Long had told me that I should contact his friend Hoang when I arrive because he thought we would get along. After I arrived, I was too nervous to just contact Hoang since I had never met him. But one day I got a message from him and we agreed to meet up that night for dinner. To be honest, the very first thing I noticed about Hoang was that I thought he was one of the most beautiful people I had ever met. Having had some success with R in Bangkok, and K in Hanoi, I was very flirty with Hoang. But our relationship never went in that direction. Instead we became amazing friends.

                                        Me and Hoang at my goodbye party

It is stunning how quickly one person can become a central figure in your life. It was as if we had been friends forever. Hoang and I would meet up almost every day and we would talk for hours. He introduced me to some of his friends who were all very nice people. He planned a trip for the two of us, to the cities of Hue and Hoi An in central Vietnam. One night when my hotel had to temporarily evict all the guest, I called Hoang and he came right over to help me out.

All too quickly me last last night in Hanoi arrived. Saying goodbye to Hoang was extraordinary difficult. I had gotten so used to seeing him everyday and the thought of not seeing him for a long time was hard to handle. I cannot imagine how my trip would have been had I never met him. I am sure I would have had a great time, but because of Hoang my time in Vietnam was amazing and one of the best periods of my life.

As emotionally difficult as it was leaving Vietnam, I was coming home to something much more difficult; coming out to my parents. But that story will have to wait for another post.


Here are some links to some of the pics from my trip :)
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/106811648929928513312/albums/5624331465884153073
https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/106811648929928513312/albums/5626972895519404881
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My Failed Attempt to Visit Vietnam

By the winter of  2010 I was openly not religious and immersed in my studies about Vietnam. I was studying Vietnamese 3 times a week with Long and spending much of my free time with him and at his house. I was also getting very depressed. I had accepted the fact that I was attracted to men a few years before hand, but my religious life style always motivated me to try and ignore that aspect of myself. But now I no longer believed in a religion that hates homosexuality, so my only reason for not pursuing it was fear. I was afraid of how my family would see me, how my friends would see me and I was afraid of such a major change in my life. But the more I tried to ignore my attraction to men, the more I realized that I couldn't. But how was I going to approach learning about this part of myself?

I decided that a trip that coming summer to Vietnam would be the perfect answer. Why Vietnam? For a number of reasons. First, my studies gave me a "legitimate" reason to travel there and what to do with my time while I was there. I would go for a few weeks and take classes in Vietnamese. Second, I did not know anyone in Vietnam. Any Vietnamese people I knew at the time were all overseas. I would be completely anonymous and free to meet new people and experiment living a gay lifestyle. Thirdly, I am what is called in gay slang, a rice queen (for all those who asked about that tag in previous posts, I told you to be patient and I would explain). A "rice queen" is a non Asian guy that is only or particularly attracted to Asian guys. For all these reasons, I reserved a ticket to Vietnam for July of 2010 and I was VERY excited.

When I told my parents of my plan to travel to Vietnam to take classes in Vietnamese they became very concerned. At first they would just say "we are concerned but its your money, do what you want with it." But as the days passed concern quickly turned to panic. My parents told me that since I was newly not religious, that it was a dangerous time in my life for me to go to a country with no Jews. They feared I was vulnerable and would fall in love with a Vietnamese girl and that marrying a non Jew was the worst thing I could do in their eyes. It would be unforgivable.

Of course I knew how my family felt about intermarriage, but at the same time I could not put their fears to rest  by announcing I was going to meet guys, not girls. I told them not to worry, but they got very upset and begged me to cancel my trip. At first I refused. This trip was so important to me, I could not imagine canceling it. But one night after a very difficult conversation with my parents on the phone I agreed to put the trip off for one year.

At the time I was very angry and very disappointed. I had so much planned for this trip and it all disappeared a few days after being planned. But in the long run things worked out very well. In 2011 I did go to Vietnam and I had the most amazing time of my life. I met the most amazing people who changed my life forever. But of course, that story will have to wait for another post :)

How I Met One of my Dearest Friends and Fell in Love with Vietnam

It must seem very random that I would end up learning Vietnamese and planing on moving to Vietnam. But Vietnam has actually played an essential part in my life over the last few years, both academically as well as personally.

The first time I started focusing on Vietnam was on my search for a topic for my thesis. At the time I wanted to focus on military history and my thesis adviser recommended I read about the Vietnam War. After reading a number of books on the subject, I found that a couple of things really bothered me. First, everything was written from the American perspective and second, I had no idea if I was pronouncing all the Vietnamese names correctly. So I set the goals of learning more about Vietnam and learning at least the basic pronunciation of Vietnamese.

The only way I can describe the effect these new studies had on me is to say that I fell in love. I fell in love with Vietnamese culture and history. In my mind Vietnam became a larger than life, exotic and romantic far off land. I started to dream about someday going to visit a country that only a few months before would never have been on my radar.

At the advice of a professor, I called the Vietnamese Embassy in Tel Aviv in an attempt to find someone that could teach me Vietnamese. I was put in touch with an embassy's staff man's son, a guy by the name of Long. Long became my tutor and we met several times a week to study. In a short period of time we became good friends. His family often invited me to their home and were very warm and welcoming. It was in that house I also developed a love for Vietnamese food.

This was all happening at the time in my life when I started to realize that I don't believe in Judaism anymore. Since Long and his family are not Jewish, I felt very comfortable being around them at that time. Elsewhere in Israel and with my friends and family, I felt very self conscious about not wearing a kippa (Jewish skull cap) or eating non-Kosher food. There I was safe from judgment.

Long became one of my dearest friends. I am forever thankful for his help and understanding during that difficult time in my life. He also helped Vietnam come alive for me. He had real stories about his life there and about his family's history. I was able to put faces and names to what I had been reading about. This added personal connection to the country fueled my passion and desire to go visit.

This is not the whole story of my connection to Vietnam, but it is the start. There are still failed trips and successful trip to talk about (and I will also eventually explain what "rice queen" means since so many I've my readers have asked me that question). But those are stories for another day and another post :)

The New Road

Many times I've been told "You know, you should really write a book". And I always think "What a great idea! I enjoy writing and I have a pretty interesting story to tell. I should write a book!" Ya, right. Who has time to write a book? Not me. Between work, graduate school, a social life and any other number of commitments, it just won't fit into my schedule. So I thought to myself, "Its the 21st century, write a blog". So that is why we are here. Welcome!

So what makes people tell me that I should write a book? It must be because I have led my life along quite a twisted road. I was brought up as a radically right wing, religious Zionist Jew. I left my family and home in the US at the age of 17 to move to Israel. I was heading off to fulfill the destiny of the Jewish people and was on a mission from god! I was going to learn Hebrew and join the Israeli Army. I had planned on getting married to a a religious Jewish Woman and having kids while living in some settlement in the "West Bank".

At first everything went according to the plan. I moved to Israel, learned Hebrew and joined the Israeli Army. My family were all so proud of me. I was constantly being set up to go on dates But I was not really happy. I was struggling with two major issues. First, as the years went by Judaism stopped making sense to me. Second, I didn't want to marry a nice Jewish girl. I'm gay. At first out of fear of some scary, vengeful god and of disappointing my family I tried to keep all that buried deep inside.This lead to years of personal struggle. But in the end keeping everything bottled up was futile.

Now, it is ten years later. In the past few years I have left the religion and come out of the closet. I traded in the dream of marrying a Jewish woman for the dream of marrying an Asian guy (more about this later). I traded in the Jewish people for intense individualism.  I traded in god for...well....logic? free thinking? nothing? I traded in Hebrew for Vietnamese and I plan on leaving Israel after I'm done my current degree and heading off to live in Vietnam. (I know that seems random, but come back to read future posts and all will be explained). So it would not be an understatement to say I have turned my life upside down. 

American Orthodox Jews refer to their way of life as "the path". When they meet someone like me they say, "He is off the derech" (derech is the Hebrew word for path). This is considered a very negative thing to say about someone. But, I do not see it that way.While I may have left that path, the road I am on now is very interesting and exciting. I can't wait to see where it ends up.