Danielle | Not Every Soldier Wears Camo

She’s got thick, long hair that stays down at all hours of the day. Her hair was so luscious that I wanted to braid it, and she said ok. Happy like a little girl playing hairdresser during a librarian’s story time, I put the dark mane in a french pleat.

She shook it out almost immediately. “Sorry, I just can’t have my hair up anymore,” she says. “It was up for two years and I can’t stand it being tied back.” I ask her what she means, and find out that this beautiful girl with the newly purchased guitar and the aztec patterned purse is a soldier in the Israeli army. “Everyone in Israel has to go to the army for at least two years,” she says. “I was there for four.”

You’d never know it if you met her. She’s this gorgeous beauty with dense eyebrows, long eyelashes, and layers of colored clothing. You’d think she was a poet or an actress, such is her artistic grace. She had never eaten a taco before, so at midnight we had overprices tacos doused in a spicy sauce that was medium spicy at best. She downed the whole thing in pure delight. Then she wanted to get donuts. They don’t have donuts in Israel.

She came to Spain and is plan-less. She wants to hitchhike through the countryside, maybe go to other countries. She likes not being stressed out about seeing everything. She craves moments to chill out.

From Danielle, I learned that someone in the military doesn’t subscribe to any one definition. She’s a woman in the Israeli army, and she’s as free spirited and as interested in eating Mexican food at all hours of the day as I am.  A guitar-playing vagabond with an invisible uniform.