As an Israeli living in the U.S., there are two things I will never fully get used to:
The cutest thing being silly everywhere you go, a.k.a squirrels.
And the fact that packages just… arrive at your door!
Like poof — magic.
No chasing slips, no trekking to the post office, no wondering if the package was rerouted to a secret underground facility guarded by dragons (hi Portugal
).
In Israel
, getting a package is a mission.
And in
Portugal, it was a full-blown treasure hunt.
But here?
I open the door and BAM.
It's there. Every time.
I joke with my Israeli friend that this whole system is reason enough to move
My dad sends me a care package from Israel every few months — think Bamba, hostage yellow ribbons, the local newspaper, and the latest trends packed into one box.
Today, I got one.
And yes, I filmed an unboxing (coming soon!)
It landed on my doorstep, and I’m still not over it.
I probably never will be 