Israel, Israel, Israel…so many articles, so much commentary, so much deliberation, yet many have never truly traveled here, many don’t know the people, the place, and the daily happenings and culture of this small country of 6 million. This country that can fit inside Texas 31 times!
This is why after 12 months of teaching here, telling stories of friends, and places, it was truly meaningful for my parents, aunt, and uncle to make the trip out, to experience the people, the place, and the areas that I worked, lived, and was apart of each and every day. A story is always that much more meaningful when you have an image, a personal experience, and a foothold from your own life to help with the understanding of what happened, how someone felt, and what someone did while you physically stand in the same place, and see the place they are actually talking about.
Our trip was a mini birthright for those knowledgeable of that term if not, it was a whirlwind event encompassing 5 cities over 7 days. From north to south it only takes 4 1/2 hours to drive, however, we still put in some good car time driving to and fro, making sure we covered as much ground as possible in the short time we had.
Day 1:
Starting in Jaffa, Tel Aviv we quickly, well not so quickly settled in. Navigating the area, which I was also new to, and attempting, failing, and failing, and failing, and finally succeeding to find that alleyway that our host spoke about. We saw him, parked, and walked down into the most open spaced well-furnished apartment I have seen. Pets right outside to boot. A litter of kittens within a planting pot of all things greeting us with their meows upon arrival.
An easy walk away we took to the streets and found a bar to quench our thirst while watching a football game on the screen awaiting my aunt and uncle within the next few hours. Catching up over one, two, three drinks, glancing at our watches awaiting a call from the other half that never came, the call came with them looking to be let into the apartment, not that they had landed, a pleasant surprise indeed. The crew altogether, I toured them through Old Jaffa, past the clock tower, the port, up, and through the park, and onwards to Onza for dinner, the streets now crowded, tables and people every which way, the noises echoing in the small alleyways. With the classy aunt and uncle now in the group, the tasting menu was ordered along with a bottle of wine, and from the rest of the party, nothing less was expected. Delicious food, we found our apartment much easier this time around at nights end.
Day 2:
A casual wake up, we took to the streets in search of the beach and some coffee to stimulate the minds for our first of many 2-hour drives to destination number two: Jerusalem. Past the city streets, towards farmland, and into sprawling mountains, houses built on the mountainside itself, we wound our way through small thoroughfares, past Hasidic Jews, and next to a construction area the means to check-in beyond us at that current moment. Option 1: park on the street, option 2: drive into the ditch that was the construction site, option 3: pull up directions and locate key fob to the garage. Why they thought option number 3 was best, I don’t know, but made quick work to retrieve keys from the apartment we weren’t supposed to check into for another 4 hours. Keys acquired, parking the car we thought would be seamless, drive up to the barrier, barrier opens, the car goes forward, park the car, simple. Ha. Moving forward, push button, move backward, push button, a little farther back, push button, get out of the car, push button, move for cars behind…Good times. Long story short, none of those ingenious ideas worked, and only the front desk saved us from a very monotonous morning of slight car alterations in an attempt to open the well-fortified garage. Wheww.
Our afternoon revolved around lunch at 1 pm at MachYehuda close to the Market, and thus we slowly made our way from the trenches of the apartment garage to the bustling market filled with tourists, natives, and merchants alike, handing out samples, tastes, and change from purchases. Fruits, vegetables, nuts, meat, cheeses, and a copious amount of halva. Beer bazaar to lunch, we were met with intoxicating smells, noises, and an ambiance that only got better with the view into the open kitchen, and joy radiating from each and every worker, waiter and cook alike, but from our inability to move due to the amount of food ordered up. Our own faces pained from the amount consumed, the food leftover.
Next came what I like to call the Western Wall effect. I showed them the Old city entering from Jaffa gate walking the most direct route towards the Western Wall, stopping at shops, souvenirs, and important historical points until we ultimately reached the Western Wall. Paying our respects, doing what each of us thought necessary and appropriate for this historic wall, we continued on looking for access to the Dome of the Rock. Realizing soon after that this specific request only is allowed during definitive times throughout the day, which led us to instead following the Via Dolorosa. Coming upon the Holy Sepulchre, we wound our way back to the Western Wall. From here we went in search of the Muslim Quarter, followed by the Jewish Quarter, back to the Western Wall, and then the Armenian Quarter, ultimately leading us back to Jaffa gate. My father at this point exhausted, back hurting, and in dire need to remove the Chacos which were decimating his feet and providing fantastic blisters as constellation prizes, we found the nearest bar.
Beer, oh Beer, and sitting. How glorious such a small thing can be. A beer or two, soaking up the bliss that is sitting, before making our way home to rid ourselves of the sunscreen, sweat, and grit coating our bodies from the day meandering through Jerusalem.
The market at night to show them the nightlife and how drastically the market changes throughout the day. Only a single beer before the sun and fresh air during the day caught up to us and resulted in our slow retreat to the safety and comfort of our beds.
Day 3:
We were not finished with Jerusalem. Oh no. We awoke to the sun streaming through the open wrap around window apartment, overlooking the old city and Russian church alike. Shopping amongst the market stalls to prepare for lunch, we made quick use of the numerous options and soon were off to none other than…………the………….Western Wall. Yes because we wanted, needed, to see it again…But in actuality our Virtual Reality tour taking us back 2,000 years and walking us through what….the Western Wall looked like way back when. Next, an adventure in search of the Dome of the Rock. Yes, we know it can be seen above the Western Wall, yet the entrance was not something we knew how to get to. Although we did make it, walking up the ramp to the right of the Wall, past security, and onwards. Let me tell you, just wow. The Dome of the Rock and the surrounding area is spectacular. The mosque majestic in its own right, the surrounding countryside, and the massive courtyard creates a serene visage. You become immediately enveloped in the grandness of the entire scene, the people, the history, and all that came about upon the stones that we stood, that we watched and that we took in.
Individuals being escorted out, we slowly walked back towards the old city and its alleyways open to us. Mint tea awaiting our descent into the alleyway below, it was refreshing as the shade was needed. Back past the wall one last time for good measure, we found the car and ended our time in Jerusalem.
On to Neve Zohar is best known for the Dead Sea. As we descended from the mountains of Jerusalem, the biggest car reaction of how quick the landscape turned brown, rocky, and full of sand. A luscious green landscape turning to desert within a very short distance. The elevation going down, down, down. Soon we were lower than sea level, and still, further we went down. The dead sea in the distance, the water clearly retreating, the glistening of the water looking as if oil coated the top as if it wasn’t water at all.
A stop for a hike at Nahal David, a waterfall hike, an oasis amongst the desert, water coming out of the cliff face, where only meters away the desert consumed your thoughts, your view, and the region in unto itself. Four waterfalls cascading down the cliff face, small streams, and pools collecting greenery, insects, and people alike. Back down the heat was impressive, the quick waterfall bath on the way down, my mother getting soaked, the water bottle refill at the bottom was one of the best moments hands down. Our water running out long ago in the heat of the day.
Only 30 minutes farther, past Masada on the right, past the main resort town on the left. Ahh, shit. Not where I thought the place was for tonight. 6 minutes farther we pulled off the highway and into a small town I’d only visited via a bus route stop months before. The place nothing glamorous, but beds, A/C, and a roof overhead. What else do you really need? No places to eat in the vicinity, we made quick use of the facilities and headed back to resort mania, and some food at the Taj Mahal. The sun setting and our modge podge of food devoured, we cut through the lot and into the Dead Sea. Having previously been in over the past few years I knew what to expect, what not to do, and what would happen, however, nothing prepared me for the temperature. Hotter than bath water, the saltiness resulting in a feeling of weightlessness, and the sun setting, Jordan on one side, Israel the other, the experience although hotter than expected, an experience all need to share if close by.
Day 4:
Rested? The room freezing from the A/C on full blast throughout the night, we woke up in darkness, my watch stating 4: 05 am…ugh. The things you have to do to hike Masada at sunrise. We groggily loaded our hiking apparels and tired selves into the car to drive the 20 minutes down the road to the base of Masada. Outside dark, the only lights of people slowly climbing up the cliffside with the help of phones and headlamps. The temperature hot and humid, our climb was slow going and sweat filled, my father and mother falling back to take it slower, my Uncle older than all of us plowing right on ahead as if he was walking down the street, calm, cool, and collected. The suns rays emanating from behind the Jordanian mountains, the darkness soon turned to light, guiding us upwards, closer and closer to the summit. Reaching the top about 40 minutes later, the sun had yet to rise until our breath was caught, water refilled, it slowly crested the mountains, a big ball of yellowish-orange radiance.
Our touring of Masada lasted much longer than I had thought possible, but the snacks, new areas, and the company made it worth the climb and time spent. The rest of the day full of walking down memory lane and showing them all of the places, roads, and restaurants that dominated my life over the past 12 months in the Negev desert. From the Dead Sea to Dimona, to Mitzpe Ramon we had numerous pitstops that I would recommend to anyone driving in this particular area. First Dimona, not exciting, but a place that I would arrive to and leave from 4 times a week to teach the youth of Israel English. Next, I took them to Carmehl Farms, a delectable goat cheese farm, serving their personal product along with a refreshing drink amongst cushions and shade. Still farther we stumbled upon a couple vineyards tucked away in the canyons of the mountainous Desert, surviving from drip technology keeping the vines well hydrated. Finally, Mitzpe Ramon was in sight, the last stretch passing without incident. Staying in a cozy home right outside the hangars, a newer and more art based district of this small town, everyone took a moment to themselves some napping, others freshening up, and others still taking advantage of the hammock on the front porch. Our day would be one of relaxation, sightseeing, and drinks, after the early morning wake-up. Showed my aunt and mother around the essentials: the grocery store, the smoothie shop, bank, and small shopping strip. And with breakfast materials acquired for day number 5, we mad happy hour at the Beresheet, one of the nicest hotels in Israel, and a beautiful and extravagant structure overlooking the MakTesh Ramon. With a view and a drink, we unwound and enjoyed the scenery, the breeze, and the time spent together, running out faster than we knew what to do. More guiding, I led the way to the lookout point followed by Camel Rock to admire the setting sun, and the colors of the changing world that we had walked into, the blues, purples, and yellows, creating a calming and spectacular end of the day.
Day 5 and 6. Oh how I wish my memory would be so pristine as to relive these moments clearly and with perfect detail four-and-a-half months later. To feel as if I was in the streets of Tel Aviv, feel the sand beneath my feet, experience the eclectic air bnb that we searched incessantly for within the arts district. The grafitti coating the walls, the bars plentiful all around. The bar experience at Bell boy a true gem not known by many a short walk off of Rothschild street. The drinks coming in vikings horns, fish flasks, served with cotton candy, glasses coated with chocolate, and even a condom in case you forgot one at home. My family experience was a bit more laid back, but we managed to try one, two, three, or four drinks a piece, the Aunt not impressed, while awaiting the final hours of our trip with my Aunt and Uncle before they jumped in a taxi, shared with a dear friend who would also disappear right in front of us, also driving into the night to catch a flight.
The drinks were memorable it would seem typing this many months later, the conversation unknown, the ambiance engrained within my minds eye. But the lasting image is my mother, besides herself as her sister drove away to the airport so abruptly, the realization that she had not spent this much time together for decades settling in, and bringing her to tears. And this is where I will leave this post. Life is all about family, and when you are not surrounded by them, you quickly forget that feeling of closeness, that bond that brings you together, the unspoken memories of childhood, life, and all that comes in between. It isn’t until you are saying goodbye again, that you truly realize how much you have wished this moment to be, how much you have missed this familial bond, that has gotten lost somewhere along the way. Family…it’s all about family. Family…it’s what creates the sense of home, it’s what drives us forward, and allows us to succeed amongst a chaotic world. I am grateful for ming, I hope you are grateful for yours no matter what it may look like, sound like, or whom makes it up. We all need family to be that guiding beacon, to be the people whom make us see what we’ve been missing all along, to help us see what’s been in front of us the entire time. Family, family, family.
