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, 21st
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 comments:
Post a Comment