PICKLED

My head’s pickled again.

I couldn’t sleep last night, or rather I kept waking up after having these really crazy dreams. These featured a cast of characters including many people I have got to know in Nablus, young people I had worked with in Edinburgh, Tom Selleck and, in one particularly strange dream, a giant orangutan. It got to the stage that I couldn’t close my eyes without another random image popping into my head, and I kept waking up in the middle of the night fairly sure I was going mental.

The lack of sleep has kept me in a bad mood pretty much all day, although I perked up a little bit after leading a particularly productive creative writing workshop this afternoon. (I’ve realised this is the first day I’ve been in bad form since I got here, so that’s not too bad going.)

The issue, quite clearly, is that there is too much going on for me to be able to process as I go along. On top of that, reaching the half-way point of my stay has signalled a slight shift in perspective. I can no longer think about the rest of my time here without also thinking about having to leave, and I’m not looking forward to reaching that point. I am looking forward to catching up with family and friends, especially my now three-year-old nephew, but I know it will be so hard to say goodbye to some of the people I’ve met here, and to say goodbye to Palestine.

All bar one person from the volunteers’ apartment have headed out for the evening, though, so at least I’m able to get a little bit of head space, work on a few poems and listen to melancholy music without fear of getting anyone down. I’m already starting to feel in better form.

I’ve still no idea what the giant orangutan was about, though.