there are people in this world that look like me...

...they are called the Gat family. I love my american family, don'te get me wrong. But really, they do not look like me. I have never had the experience of sitting around a table and looking at so many people that look so much like me or my father or my brother, and besides weirding me out and making me stare a little bit too long, I love it!

My Israeli family emailed me three days ago to say that they were traveling to India and Goa. My cousin Dana, who is only two years younger, was only a few towns away. I emailed her back and the next night someone shouted my name and ran up to hug me on the main street in Palolem. Not only was I glad that it was not some strange Indian man, but I was ecstatic that it was my cousin Dana. She and her boyrfriend Roy and I spent most of that night talking about our travels, and how they paid there way by selling fake rolexes in japan and what it was like in jail in new york and other such absurdities that we'd experienced along the ways. I also finally got to ask all of my burning questions about the Israelis I had met along my travels who kept coming across as arrogant. They told me that in hebrew they call them arsem and that not all young israelis were like that. I was happy to know that my cousin was not. For hours we laughed and got to know each other, basically for the first time.

The next day we went in search of new bungalows for us all to stay in, because later that day my aunt roni, uncle ori and other cousin julie were coming to palolem as well. I took notes as Roy haggled geniusly over room prices. eventually, roy convinced them that making less money was a good idea for them and that if it wasnt he would cut off his own penis (a tactic I hope to use one day) and we settled in three basic bungalows with a private beach for cheaper than any other bungalows Ive heard of.

By the time I finished my reiki course and had a savory bowl of cereal (dont ask me how they made cornflakes taste meaty), the rest of my family arrived and the staring began. My uncle ori looks so much like my father that I was genuinely confused. Somehow they have aged in the same ways and their features have changed in the same ways and their voices are deep in the same way, but in every other way they are so different. It felt like I had taken the wrong pill and followed some freaky rabbit down some crazy whole cause all of the sudden my 'father' was a hippie--and for those of you who know my father, and dad I know you're reading this as well--that man aint no hippie!

After awhile I adjusted to how similar my uncle looks to my father and how similar I think julie looks to me and my grandmother and how similar dana looks to julie and how my father and brother look like them all and they all look like me. We all shared some chai and talked for awhile on the beach and in the bungalows.

I love my cousins. They are so kind and funny and gracious. Last night Dana taught the whole family a crazy japanese dance that we practiced over and over again and julie and I, who are sharing a bungalow, staye up till three in the monring talking about politics and boys and life. And today I went for a walk with julie and roni and the two of them are trying to teach me hebrew, well mostly julie, but I've always wanted to learn and its so nice that they want to help me. So far I've learned the words for "cat, dog, bull, cow, butterfly, sea, beach, I want, I dont know, I know) and by learned I mean, maybe I know them a little bit better than i did before. But I will try and pick up some more because they are all making such an effort to include me in conversations and speak only english. And although it is fun for me like a game of charades to gues the words when they cant think of them, I know it must be taxing to constantly speak in a foreign language.

So, in conclusion I have to come to India on my own, a land of strangers--and I have met my family, who till now were strangers. The world is bizarre but I love it.