With my internet connection down at home, I headed to the neighborhood Starbucks this morning, using their wi-fi to catch up on email correspondence that fell by the wayside while in Israel shooting.

As I sat there, drinking green tea, sorting through a pile of receipts from the trip and relishing the sound of English spoken around me, I heard someone from the next table ask, in Hebrew, “excuse me, are you Israeli?”

The El Al flight attendants from my plane back yesterday, it turns out, are staying at a hotel down the block from my apartment. And, with the Hebrew receipts jogging their memory, two of them had recognized me from prior flights.

To their disappointment, I explained in broken Hebrew that I’m not Israeli at all – just an American who’s been spending too much time heading back and forth from there. But It’s a good reminder of the reality of making movies. If I’m neck-deep in a project, I’m neck-deep in a project, no matter where in the world I happen to be.