How to do Israel in 10 days on 3 hours of sleep a night: a collection of thoughts from a whirlwind of a trip.

            Wow, that trip went by quickly. Someone asked if my blog was only supposed to last two posts, and I guess through a combination of late nights, packed days, abhorrent wifi and a nonexistent work ethic, I’ve managed skip blogging on about seven days of a ten day trip. Well, wait no longer! In terms of pictures, the realization that both my camera and my proficiency with said camera are not very good have convinced me to abandon taking pictures. If you’d like, there are a bunch from my trip posted on the St. Louis Hillel Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.529904283780467.1073741844.410256415745255&type=3

            Last Thursday our group had a very meaningful day, with a trip to Har Herzel, the cemetery for Israeli soldiers and heads of state. Afterwards, we walked to Yad Vashem, the national Holocaust museum. The feelings inspired by both are hard to describe. Each time feels different, even though the information presented does not necessarily change. Specifically at Har Herzel, visiting Michael Levin’s grave again was difficult, possibly because so many more of my friends are currently bravely serving in the IDF. Somehow, it felt more real this time. He wasn’t someone whose life existed only in a documentary or a presentation. He was my friend.

            That night we ended up in Teveria (Tiberias) on the banks of the Kineret (Sea of Galilee).  At night we listened to a performer, Gilad Vital from Shotei Hanevua, who sang many childhood favorites of mine, such as “Ein ani” and “Kol Hayeladim Koftzim Rokdim.”

            Waking up early, we head out for a short hike, the first on our trip. And thank god. I had been starting to believe that the trip provided by Israel Outdoors was a special variant called Israel Indoors. Next was rafting on the Jordan River, which, for those of you who have not been there, is astoundingly small for a river that provides water irrigation, drinking water, and essentially all of the water in the Dead Sea. Either way, it was a nice slow ride down the holy rivulet, chatting with Israelis, catching some rays, and definitely not paddling as much as I should have been.

            Shabbat in Israel is always an experience, but this Shabbat was a different one for me. I’ve been going through a bit of a flux religiously recently, from keeping Shabbat to very much so not observing its requirements, and back again. There has been very little in between. Here though, it was difficult, because I felt the pull of my past practices in Israel, and the push of the way that the community around me was observing Shabbat. It was difficult to navigate; I still have a long way to go before I find a comfortable place for myself spiritually. However, a few of the other participants and I knew some Shabbat songs and had the chance to teach them to the rest of our trip. Everyone participated, and it reminded me of Shabbatot past in USY and Ramah.

            Mais tout le monde amor soir Samedi. Havdallah, the dividing service between the holy and the mundane, Shabbat and the rest of the week, was beautiful and followed by my first opportunity to legally purchase alcohol (Take that, 21^st birthday!). I met up with Daniel Stecker, a family friend from way back who by some crazy random happenstance was also on a Birthright trip in Tveria that night. I also made friends with the most suave bartender in the whole of the holy land, so if you are ever in the Galil and meet Rafael, give him my regards.

            The next morning, earlier than most of the trip might have liked, everyone hopped on a bus to Tzfat. As it was described to us, if Jerusalem is the religious center of Israel, and Tel Aviv is the cultural center of the country, Tzfat is its spiritual center. We learned about the place long the home of Jewish mystics and the texts into which they delved, all while sitting in a 750-year-old cave where all of this studying by the Mekubalim took place. David Friedman showed us another aspect of the city, the intertwinement of mystical religious enlightenment with art. A hippie in the truest sense of the word, David grew up in Colorado and discovered Zohar, the primary text of Kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism. Inspired, he delved deeper into his studies and applied them to his passion, art. He then moved to the most natural place: the center of Jewish mysticism and there he has been ever since. I can’t do justice to how much meaning each piece of his conveys or the layers upon layers of overlapping symbols, but suffice it to say that he blew my mind, picked up the shrapnel and blew it again. If you feel like seeing some art that will take you on a trip, check out his website: http://www.kosmic-kabbalah.com/. I left with his homage to a Grateful Dead album cover to put on my wall next year.

            After our time in Tzfat was over, we began the long drive to the Negev, the Israeli desert in the south. Gigantic mountain views slowly gave way to cities and farms, which gradually thinned out until into the Arava, the rocky, weedy landscape that at one point characterized 70% of Israel. Finally, we arrived at the Bedouin tent. Honestly, it was a nice group bonding experience, and yes, the camels made for some nice pictures. However, I have some serious moral qualms about this type of portrayal of Bedouin culture as its stereotypes, and at that only those that are commercially viable. There’s a lot more that I could say about this issue, but this blog isn’t a political forum so if you’d like to hear about that, let me know and we can talk some time.

            Masada was a nice hike, but by far the best part was trekking down the Snake Path with another WUSTL person that I met on this trip, Jordi. It’s interesting because our conversation was sparked by the fact that Masada has become somewhat of a garbage dump. Bottles, gum wrappers, cigarette butts, shoe soles, canned food that may or may not have been from the fifties, you name it, it was there. Israel has a long way to go with Leave No Trace principles if it wants to preserve its national and world heritage sites that are millennia old for generations to come. Jordi and I had a great heart to heart about environmental issues and our different personal solutions. Afterwards, my lifelong aversion to swimming continued as I napped on the beach of the Dead Sea. It really is amazing how you can watch people float there.

            One of the most powerful places that we visited was in Tel Aviv. Our group made a stop at Rabin Square. While the memorial there and the story it tells are always meaningful, this time what struck me most were the bumper stickers. We were so close, so close to peace. “Friend, you are missing,” read the notes stuck to columns and walls nearby. While Yigal Amir’s crime, the tragedy of Yithak Rabin’s assassination has defined the political culture in Israel since. Shalom, Chaver.

            Due to a schedule muck up, our group had some extra time on the drive up to Haifa, which we spent chilling with our tour guide Itay’s family. Making pita and hummus and singing songs. Since I was incredibly full from lunch (discovered the miracle that is Chamshuka: chummus and shakshuka in the same bowl, all for less than 25 NIS) I took the time to chat in Hebrew with his family. His father was very proud of all the military service in the family. An especially interesting comparison was that both Itay’s father and older brother had engaged in electronic military warfare. But while that meant interfering with enemy radio communications for the father, it meant piloting drones for the son. Itay’s sister is an OT in Israel, and I had a long conversation about how proud I am of my sister Jillian for her work in the Neonatal Care Unit and her upcoming completion of her Masters in occupational therapy from Thomas Jefferson University. Finally, I taught his youngest sister a little bit of English: YOLO. As always, I’m a terrible influence.

            In Haifa, we only got a cursory look at the Bahai gardens, but it was a quite a nice view. You can literally see the entire coast for miles and miles. We also had a lecture on the development of Bahai religion and thought, as well as how Israel became the holy land of yet another religion.

            Our last night in Haifa was fun, and as our last activity, we wrote each other nice notes to be placed inside a balloon, unread. Next time you need a pick me up, just blow up the balloon, pop it, read the note, and feel great about yourself. Repeat steps 3 and 4 as needed. The next morning felt surreal. No one could really believe the trip was over. But hearing how much the trip affected everyone, hearing how they believed it had given them their first substantial connection to Judaism, their first real connection to Israel helped me appreciate the value of the experience to me. I hope to come back, and I also hope to find a chance to lead a Birthright trip next summer.

            Now the rest of my trip starts…. This should be interesting. Hopefully I can call the next blog post “How to do Israel in 10 days with under $100.”

No, Do You Really Know What You're Eating?

            Today is the sort of day that I remember from tours in Israel. Incredibly long, unbelievably full, and chock full of new ideas. We began the morning by meeting the seven Israeli soldiers who will join our group for half of the trip. Each of them serves a different role in the army, and all of them have different aspirations. Most significant to me is that we are around the same age. I believe that it is the first time that I’ve ever met an Israeli soldier younger than myself. 

Blair, holdin it together real well for the camera

Oh, and Blair's last name is Elias. So that's cool.

Alexandra and Hallie both made the Blog!

Beautiful roadside camera shot.           The tour of the Old City was interesting, mostly because I avoided hanging around the tour guide and tried to stay near Lauren, one of the Israelis on our trip. Her job in the army is to give tours of Jerusalem to soldiers in order to deepen their understanding of Israel’s capital city. She appreciated the opportunity to speak in Hebrew, and I appreciated the opportunity to hear stories and perspectives that aren’t normally a focus of the tours that are given to Americans. Some of spots we visited were the site of the last supper and a balcony overlooking the courtyard of the Western Wall.             I always appreciate a trip to the Davidson Center, specifically Robinson’s Arch. Recently, finding inspiration for prayer has been a struggle, but the desire for a fervent, authentic egalitarianism really does motivate me. When I asked for a few minutes to daven Minchah (recite the afternoon prayer), my tour guide was surprised. “Why not pray at the Western Wall?” he asked. “We’re going right after this and it looks much nicer.” After debating how best to answer the question, I mentioned my upbringing as a Conservative Jews.             Although the other participants on the trip have a variety of backgrounds that are different from my own, I love their curiosity about different aspects of Judaism and Israel to which they have had less exposure. At various points throughout the day, I had the chance to explain some of the basics of Jewish sacrifices and ritual purity in the time of the Temple, the tradition of wearing tefillin (phylacteries), and the outlines of the Kidron Valley Watershed project. Everyone seems to be incredibly open-minded and willing to learn.             Afterwards, we head to the Western Wall, and allowed some time to meditate. Of course, the Chabad representative asking participants if they had put on tefillin that day asked us if we knew Rabbi Hershey from the Chabad in St. Louis, which was a nice coincidence. Speaking of, if you're reading this, Rabbi, Shmuely Weiss sends his regards. The Tower of David (I still need to do some work on that whole "exposure setting" for the camera)

Miriam wearing that gorgeous smile!

External shot of Mount Zion Church.

Some of the Israelis on our trip.

Arabic plaque at the site of the Last Supper (I can make out some letters?)

Inscription reads: "If I forget Jerusalem, may I forget my right hand."

First glimplse of Al Aqsa mosque this trip. Marissa and Miriam: trip leaders in action.

Marissa and Miriam: no longer in action, but plenty of smiles.

In case you could not find a photo of the Western Wall juxtaposed with Al Aqsa mosque online, here you go.

Robinson's Arch at the Davidson Center.

The small hole in the wall on the right is said to have been left when Muhammad tethered his flying horse to the wall during a trip to Jerusalem.

Our Medic, Itai, and the ever radiant Gaby Dinkin. Itai, our tour guide, explaining the world.

             Machaneh Yehuda, a market place in Jerusalem, is empty compared against the balagan that I remember from the last few visits. On the way over, I ran into Dr. Rogoff (pictured below), the scholar-in-residence for Camp Ramah at the Berkshires. This was a nice coincidence, particularly because on of his accomplishments, finishing Daf Yomi (a seven and a half year cycle of learning a page a day of the Talmud) motivated me to begin the very same process of learning. I'm still only about a third of the way in (and twenty pages behind) but it has so far had a major impact on my life, the way that I approach study, and my Jewish identity.

             And he was only the first of many friendly faces that I ran into today. Aliza Yaillen, Rebecca Leeman, Jessica Schwartz, Eliza, Julia, Talia Brilliant and Rivka from Mishlachat and others were among the people with whom I managed to stop and have a conversation. Some live in Israel, and some are at the tail end of their Nativ experience. It's still just wonderful seeing the reaction when people who know me realize that I am on Birthright. I guess the rule change still hasn't sunk in.

             Lunch was... adventurous. Eating at a place that I remembered from Machaneh Yehuda during my time on Seminar, Azurah, a few friends and I sat down to one of the most satisfying meals I have ever had the pleasure of ordering. Once the food arrived, the manager ran over to our table and told the waitress to wait. "Do you really know what you are eating?" he asked. I replied with a curt "yes." Shaking his head, he continued, "No, do you really know what you are eating." And in Hebrew I managed a quick, "yes, I know that I ordered the lungs." At which point he threw his hands into a shrug, rolled his eyes and walked away. Half expecting me to take a bite and push the plate away, he kept a watchful eye and reminded me that if I did not like the dish, I could always return it to the kitchen and order something else. Not a chance. Though the texture was a little bit strange, I would not have traded it for anything else on the menu. The meat was very, very tender, and very flavorful.

Surprise meet up with a personal inspiration, Dr. Jason Rogoff, on the way to Machaneh Yeduda Market

Lunch in Machaneh Yehudah was delicious. You'd never know it was cow lungs.              Now I thought that my day had ended with group photos on Haas Promenade overlooking Jerusalem and a group discussion to prepare for our day tomorrow, but the best was yet to come. Pulled away from writing this, I went for a walk with a few friends. We sat down with some of the people living where we are staying for just one more night. Although we had been told that Neve Shalom was an integrated community, the implications of that hadn't been explained. Neve Shalom, or Oasis of Peace, is a village that was jointly founded by Jews and Palestinian Arabs of Israeli citizenship who were seeking a way to reconcile differences between groups and approach life in a contested land in a balanced, sensible way. For over an hour, we had a frank discussion of life in Israel as an Arab, and the sense of displacement that residents of Neve Shalom feel in both Jewish and Arab communities. I encourage everyone to learn more about this truly progressive community at their website: http://wasns.org/              Tomorrow is a heavy day, with trips to both the Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum and the Har Herzel military cemetery. So, I believe now would be a good time to pack, since we're leaving Neve Shalom as soon as I learned what it was all about, and I'd like at least four hours of sleep tonight.

And you'd never know this sugary treat from Aroma is what Israelis call and Iced Coffee

I know white is in style for Yom Kippur, but I may have found my new Rosh Hashanah Kittle.

Not a great photo, but I managed to capture the edge of the Fuchsberg Center, AKA Beit Nativ.

Are You Sure Your Flight is This Week?

        

        Well, that seemed awfully familiar.* Stuck behind the entire group, hoping for a travel agent to find some record that a ticket had been purchased for one “Elias Horowitz.” On Ramah Seminar in 2011, a similar muck up had happened, and again the plane had just barely waited. Luckily, the wonderful travel agent pulled her weight and ensured that a seat was available. While the trip so far has been quite the repeat, the rest of the itinerary promises new perspective on past experiences.

"Hey Eema, you can go to sleep. I'm going to Israel for real this time!"

Nicole Wildstein, ready for a restful flight

Gaby Dinkin, clearing customs and clearly happy about it

The other "Eli" on the trip. This could get interesting.

                The airport is another reminder of the variety of people that come together for random common purposes. A flight to Israel for Birthright to a college student is visit to a sick father in Netanya to a woman from Brooklyn, or a bar mitzvah at the Western Wall to a proud mother from Connecticut. Having been delayed an hour and a half and separated from the group, I catch up with a group of Israelis looking for the same gate. At first, they thought they had stumbled on a Birthright trip with a total of one participant, and showed more disbelief in the actual story than their version of events. The Israelis were ending a ten-day trip of their own; after completing their service, they were invited to meet a group of Afghanistan and Iraq War veterans.

Matt Re, giving a shoutout for peace in the Middle East

                El Al seating was the usual mess of hundreds of people shuffling seats trying to find space next to their friends and family. Because the ticket was issued last minute, the rest of the St. Louis Hillel trip was on the opposite end of the plan and the designated seat, 35E, was already taken. Seats by familiar faces filled up quickly with other Birthright groups, forcing me to the front of the plane. By now, the seat had somehow cleared, and the first real friend of the trip was in seat 35D. Annetta is also on an Israel Outdoors trip, although one focused on 22-26 year olds. As recent graduate from Temple University, she will be spending her summer after the trip on a cruise from Italy to Spain. Given that we are at such different periods in our lives, talking with her was an opportunity to see the Birthright experience from another perspective. And hopefully, it will be again, since our extensions landed us on the exact same flight home.

The El Al flight just after landing.

A very creative, very Israeli icebreaker that involved scotch tape, noses, and uncomfortable infringements of personal space.

That’s about it, since for a short day, it was pretty full of excitement.

*I have to apologize in advance to my readers. I have promised my creative writing teacher, April Zabinsky that I would include a writing challenge for myself in each blog post that reflected weaknesses I saw in my writing. This time, I’ve chosen to exclude any references to myself in sentences—namely the words “I,” “me,” “mine,” “myself,” and whatever else comes to mind. So if the writing gets too dreary, just enjoy the pictures. I’ll give myself three strikes.

Home sweet home for the next two days: Neve Shalom