Traveling in the North, Part IV: A perfect end

After traveling throughout Northern Israel for a few days and relaxing at my friend's kibbutz for Shabbat, I was ready to move again on Sunday morning.  I had plans to meet with a friend and see the Baha'i Gardens in Haifa before going back to my kibbutz and I was excited to get on my way.

My friend's host mom and grandma from the kibbutz drove us both to Akko where my friend had to run some errands and I had to catch a train to Haifa.  By this time I was feeling somewhat of a pro on Israeli public transportation and feeling a little more comfortable asking for directions in Hebrew, so hopefully I didn't seem like quite so much of an ignorant tourist when asking which platform I needed to be on.  Upon walking through the turnstile at the Akko train station I was hit with another small dose of the uniqueness of Israeli society: on the other side of the turnstile stood a female employee of the Israeli rail system, handing me a small piece of chocolate and saying "Chag sameach" (Happy holiday) as I accepted it.  The chocolate was wrapped in paper displaying the Israeli rail logo and a printed wish for a happy Pesach.  My first thought was "Wow!  How cool is that?!"  My second was "Pesach starts tomorrow night.  What are they going to do with all the leftover chocolate?"

I got to Haifa and called my friend who walked to meet me at the station.  As I waited for him, impatient and greedy taxi drivers watched me with an air of discontent, perhaps having hoped I would accept their outrageous prices and let them whisk me off to wherever my heart desired.  But my friend showed up and together we got on a bus to get to the top of the hill where the entrance to the Baha'i Gardens was situated.

I first met this friend two years ago when we went on the same Birthright trip.  With the exception of a few Shabbat weekends the following semester, I hadn't really seen him since then.  He had graduated that same year and moved around a bit, working at jobs and internships, until he moved to Israel last September to do a Kibbutz Ulpan program on a kibbutz in the North.  Following the Ulpan he decided to make aliyah (become an Israeli citizen) and join the army, which as of last Sunday he had been in for a week.  The most exciting part of it all? Free public transportation, courtesy of his army I.D. card.

I've never been to San Fransisco, but I imagine bus rides there must feel similar to our ride  through Haifa - up and down and left and right, traversing a city built on the slopes of Mount Carmel.  For someone with a history of motion sickness, I was incredibly thankful to get off the bus, even though it meant stepping out into seasonally uncharacteristic temperatures of 35 degrees Celsius (that's about 95 degrees Fahrenheit for my American readers).  Apparently this is what I have to look forward to.  Joy.

We walked around, talked, and relaxed a bit before joining a rather large tour group to actually go into the gardens, which I already knew were magnificent and pristine, having seen them from a different, closed gate.  And truth be told, despite the fact that I was surrounded by families of tourists that sometimes make me a little embarrassed to be one, too, I was happy to have a guide to tell me some of the secrets of this religion.

The Baha'i Faith is a more contemporary monotheistic religion developed in the 1800s in Persia (modern-day Iraq).  It follows in the footsteps of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam and claims to be a continuation and perfection of those faiths.  However, unlike its religious predecessors, the Baha'i Faith teaches that most of the world's religions are valid and as such, it supports a peaceful and non-judgmental outlook in which true harmony can exist among everyone, regardless of belief or background.  In fact, its primary goal appears to be universal unity.

The Gardens were built to beautify the surroundings of the Shrine of the Bab, a prominent teacher in the early history of the Baha'i Faith.  The Gardens are filled with symbolism, the most obvious of which is the great use of symmetry - a metaphor for perfection and harmony.  The Shrine is located in the center of 18 terraces with nine on either side, representing the 18 disciples of the Bab.  Because the Shrine is a holy place and pilgrimage site within the Baha'i Faith, all the elements of the Gardens are meant to promote feelings of peace, harmony, and tranquility.  I imagine had I been there without my large backpack and not surrounded by a tour group, I would have felt similarly.  Still, its magnificent beauty did have something of a calming effect, even in the middle of the third-largest city in Israel.

I think that's a salient point - that this shrine of a minority world religion is in the third-largest city of a decidedly Jewish country.  And what a sight to see!  Eighteen terraces of pristine gardens flowing down a mountainside smack-dab in the middle of a city.  And to think: New York City couldn't get over the idea of a small Muslim Community Center being built in its midst.  Priorities, people, priorities.

Because we got there a little late we weren't allowed to the Shrine or go past it, but I was happy to have seen as much as I did.  So I went to the bathroom (thank goodness for tourist attractions with clean public restrooms!), refilled my water bottle, and got on the bus again to take us back down the mountain.  We went in search of lunch and eventually settled on a little shawarma restaurant (where I conversed entirely in Hebrew!), then walked back to the train station and said our goodbyes.  It was only 2:30 in the afternoon, but I wasn't terribly interested in walking around a city after having hiked through such beautiful landscapes - would have paled in comparison - so I got on the train and headed back "home."
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As I spoke with friends in the days that followed and compared notes of our travels, it was hard for me to believe that I'd done so much.  Me, who has done no significant amount of traveling even in the United States.  Me, who has never done something quite like this, and certainly not alone.  Me, who always wants everything planned, who wants details and time tables and maps and lists.  Before coming to Israel, I never would have guessed that I would travel across a country on buses, trains, and by hitchhiking; hike with strangers; hang out with soldiers; and spend time with long-lost acquaintances.  People told me Israel would change me, but I never realized quite how much.

And to think, I was just hoping for a tan!