A whirlwind end to the trip of a lifetime

In the spirit of full disclosure and record-keeping, I present to you a summary of my final travel experiences in Israel.  I’m not even going to pretend to lie and label it a “short” summary.  Hah!  Brevity has never been my strong suit.

Friday morning I finished packing and met a friend for a goodbye lunch then left the kibbutz around 1:30 pm.  A man stopped for me outside the kibbutz and brought me straight to the train station, talking to me in Hebrew the whole way and complimenting me on my own apparently-impressive command of the language (“Five months?  How wonderful!”).  My distant cousin (second cousin once removed, to be precise) picked me up from the train station, along with her mom and brother who arrived on the same train.  Her mom and brother live in the U.S. but had come to visit in Israel, and that night for dinner we were joined by the other sibling and his boyfriend.  As it turns out, not only do I have family in Israel but they have three adorable children whose grandmother lives close to where I go to school.  Needless to say the distant family is not so distant anymore.

I spent Shabbat with my family, playing Monkey in the Middle with the young girls (which is called “hamor b’emtzah” – “donkey in the middle” - in Hebrew), spending some time at a nearby kibbutz’s pool, and sharing a mix of Hebrew and English with them all.  Saturday night we all went to a bookstore then got ice cream and I took pictures of the kids. 

Sunday morning my cousin took me to the bus stop and I rode a bus PACKED with soldiers going back to their bases after the weekend.  Now, when I say packed, I mean there was only enough room for me to stand in the middle of the isle.  Thank goodness Israeli bus drivers can’t go longer than an hour and a half without a break; instead of spending all three hours standing in the middle of a mass of sleeping soldiers, I was able to get a new spot sitting in the isle next to the bus driver – much better situation for my motion sickness.

I got to Kiryat Shmona where an exuberant lady from the busy rushed me around and helped me find what bus I needed next then sat me down where I needed to be and told me to wait, the next bus would be there in 45 minutes.  When the bus came I found five other girls who were going to the same state park as me – known as “The Banias” – and I tagged along with them from the kibbutz that was our starting point.  From Kibbutz Snir we walked the three km to the Hermon Stream Nature Park and Reserve, rested a bit and ate some lunch, then went through the park where we saw a most beautiful waterfall.

After leaving the park I hitchhiked back to Kiryat Shmona.  Again, the man who drove me was incredibly nice (if not a little sketchy), and before dropping me off exactly where I needed to be he gave me his phone number with the strict instructions to call him should I need any help at all.  I didn’t, but the offer was appreciated.

I spent the night with a guy I found through CouchSurfing.  He is a 27-year-old student, hiker, traveler, and mountain climber, and greeted me at his door with a hug.  I made myself at home, took a shower, we talked, then I took a nap while he studied for his exams this week.  We prepared a stir fry to share for dinner, talked some more, then I passed out from exhaustion.

Monday morning I took an 8:00 bus from Kiryat Shmona to Tel Aviv (three hours, this time with a real seat) and walked around the city for seven hours.  I went to a hummussia and hung out there for about an hour since I got into a conversation with a young guy from Darfur who recently came to Israel to go to school.  I also spent some time in Shuk HaCarmel where I bought a touristy t-shirt, helped some non-Hebrew-speaking women buy a ½-kilo of figs, and met a guy who just came back from a couple years in Lebanon teaching history and who will be going to the same university as me in the States next year.

When the train landed me back in Rehovot last night I was absolutely exhausted and I called the couple who I’d planned on staying with that night, the son and daughter-in-law of a couple I know on the kibbutz.  Well, they were all going to their parents’ for dinner and betach (of course!) I was invited, so I went there and feasted on homemade pizza and cheesy potato salad with one of my adopted families.  Since all my luggage was at their house anyway (his son hadn’t picked it up since I dropped it off there on Friday), I stayed with his parents instead.  His mother kissed and hugged me and took plenty good care of me, his dad gave me practical advice on traveling around the globe, and when I left they made sure I knew that if I’m ever in Israel with my own family we are all invited for dinner at their house.  You hear that, Mom and Dad?  You have a dinner invitation in Kibbutz Na’an.

Finally this morning, after a hearty breakfast and last goodbyes, my favorite taxi driver and friend picked me up and drove me to the airport where we exchanged thank you’s and I’ll miss you’s and tentative plans to get together when he’s vacationing in the U.S. next month.  That one might actually come to fruition!  Either way, we’ll be friends on Facebook and I know that the next time I’m in Israel he’ll be the first one I call when I need a ride.

And that was that.  I got in the airport, through luggage and passport control and security, and I got on a plane.  And miraculously, the plane is not over capacity even with all my memories and emotions from the best five months of my life.

The New and the Old - Tel Aviv and Yafo

In case I hadn't already figured it out, I have firmly come to the conclusion that it is impossible to see even a single Israeli city in one day, let alone two, even if it is meticulously planned out and run by expert Israeli tour guides.  On Tuesday we had our third tiyul - trip - this time to Tel Aviv and the neighboring city of Yafo (Jaffa - like the oranges).  We went to Independence Hall, saw many "firsts" of the area and the country (first kiosk, first train station, first Jewish neighborhoods, first movie theater, etc.), went to Yafo and walked through the Old City, saw remains of an Egyptian tomb (Egyptian dude moved to Yafo a long long time ago), learned about Greek, Jewish, Christian, and Arab influences on the city, ate at Doctor Shakshouka (awesome!), shopped in the Shuk HaPishpeshim (flee market), saw Rabin Square in Tel Aviv and learned about assassinated Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, then got on the bus and came back to the kibbutz.

Whew.

Here are some of the basics that you should know about Tel Aviv and Yafo:  Tel Aviv is the second largest city in Israel but is the most cosmopolitan.  Similarly, though Jerusalem is the capital city, Tel Aviv is the artistic and economic center of Israel.  It is home to skyscrapers, beach-front hotels, markets and malls, theaters and concert halls, corporate offices, R&D centers, and a vibrant 24/7 social atmosphere for Israelis and tourists alike.  It was built on the outskirts of Yafo (Jaffa, in its common English transliteration), a predominantly Arab city, and today Tel Aviv and Yafo are part of a single municipality.  Tel Aviv-Yafo population: 404,000 (5% of the total Israeli population).  Population of greater Tel Aviv Metropolitan Area: 3,206,400 (about 42% of the total Israeli population).

Forefront: Old
Background: New

Tel Aviv's name has an interesting etymology combining the old and new in a couple of different ways.  The name was chosen in homage of Theodore Herzl's book Altneuland - "Old New Land" (Herzl was the founder of modern Zionism and a primary figure in Israel's modern history).  When the book was translated to Hebrew, the translator opted for a more symbolic rather than direct translation of the title and chose the name of a city that also happens to be mentioned in the Bible.  The name itself is difficult to translate to English because although "Aviv" is simply "spring," a "tel" is a formation that is unique to Israel.  It is a hill that has developed from the recurring construction and destruction of civilizations built one on top of the other - new on top of old - in layers.  Thus it was a fitting title for the translation of Herzl's book because the antiquity of ancient civilizations is juxtaposed against the youthful revival of spring.

Tel Aviv and Yafo are almost complete opposites in a variety of ways including history, religion, and architecture.  While Tel Aviv is a bustling metropolis, Yafo maintains its old winding alleyways and stone buildings, vast flea market (another skirt and pants for 75 shekel!  Woo!), and slightly slower-paced life.  Yafo also has a strong Arab population as it has for much of its history.  History, too, is a significant difference between the two cities; Tel Aviv was founded in 1909, but stories of Yafo go back to antiquity in both the Bible and Greek mythology.

I could talk a lot more about the tiyul, but I have to admit that while I do enjoy Yafo, yesterday's trip wasn't quite as enjoyable for me as our two previous ones.  Yes, Tel Aviv has a lot to offer (like the Victor Wooten concert I went to on Monday night), but I'm not much of a city girl and I prefer the art galleries and winding stone roads of Yafo.  And I can't quite put my finger on it, but for some reason I have something against touristy destinations and the tour groups of foreigners that frequent them.  Nevermind the fact that I am a tourist and was part of a tour group yesterday, nevermind that I love Israeli tour guides, and let's forget entirely that were it not for tourists, non-Hebrew speaking Anglophones wouldn't be able to go to restaurants around the country.  Yes, I realize I'm being a big ol' hypocrite, but I suppose I'd just rather be surrounded by the natives than people like me.

Still, despite the plethora of tourists and the inevitable "sheeple" (sheep + people) feeling I get whenever I'm in a tour group, I really did have an enjoyable time.  Like I said, lunch was amazing, I bargained for some more Israeli clothes, and I got to see and learn about one of Israel's most interesting cities.  All in all, a pretty good trip.  :)


P.S.: The Photos page has been updated with a link to the album featuring my pictures from our trip.  Enjoy!

Day trip to the North, Part II: Druzi Dancing

NOTE: Check the Photos page!  Link to pictures from Monday's day trip!

After our long and slightly arduous hike, we returned to the bus and drove up a mountainside to the village of Usfiya to learn about the Druzim (plural for Druze), a religious and cultural minority in Israel.  Though their roots are Arabic (having began in Egypt), Israeli Druzim do not consider themselves Arabic, and today an astounding percentage of the Druzi population are active in the Israeli military, protecting and defending their country as zealously as a Jewish Israeli, if not moreso.  In fact, many Druzim serve in the highest ranks of the Israeli military and air force.

We were welcomed at a Druzi man's home where he gave us a glimpse at the life and belief system of the Druzim.  Among the interesting details:

1.  Druzim do not accept converts.
2.  There is a belief in reincarnation (human to human).
3.  There are secular and religious Druzim, and among the religious they lead very strict lifestyles.  There seems to be little to no middle ground between the two lifestyles.
4.  Women are highly respected and honored within the religion/culture.  In fact, according to our host, some men are even jealous of the status of women among them.

After a very brief talk, giant platters of food were brought out and musicians (a lutist and drummer) set up their equipment.  We ate with the sounds of Arabic music in our ears, and once the food was cleared we were encouraged to get up and dance.  With so many Latin Americans among us, we didn't need to be told twice!

Despite the feeling that the experience - the talk, the food, the music, the dancing - was well-rehearsed and oft-used, we greatly enjoyed ourselves and left wishing we had learned more.  But there was no time for that since it was time for the requisite shopping trip!

Off to another Druzi village we went where we were let loose along a short street lined with touristy Druzi shops.  The shopkeepers were kind but aggressive, eager to make a sale to these wide-eyed, unsuspecting foreigners.  A bunch of students with shekels burning in their pockets?  The shopkeepers needn't have feared.

I also learned the secret to haggling:  Don't say anything.  At one point I entered a shop which had a wide selection of Israeli/Arab clothing.  To one side of me were the wrap skirts I love so much, and to the other side was none other than the pants I love!  Of course I was going to buy something, and a girl who worked at the shop stood there staring at me as I picked through the colors and patterns.  I'm sure she was impatiently thinking "Pick something, already!" and occasionally she commented on the price: "One for 40 shekel, three for 100."  A little while later, after I'd commented a little on this skirt or another, she said "I'll give you one for 35.  Take one."  When I expressed interest in the 35 shekel pants, she eventually lowered it to 25 without me even offering another price.  Apparently if you just have more patience than the other person, they'll keep lowering the price just to get you out of the store!

In the end, I bought a skirt and a pair of pants for 55 shekel (down from 75!).  I'm happy :)

Lady Macbeth of OMG I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR

If my Israeli shopping experiences are any indication, there are two things Israelis love more than life itself:

1.  Chocolate
2.  Shoes

Crazy Baby Mama, do you concur?

Tonight I went out on a mission with my roommate:  To exchange a few more of my Traveler's Cheques and to find an outfit suitable for the opera.  Perhaps it was because we were pressed for time, or maybe it's because I'm cheap, but this turned out to be a much more challenging endeavor than I originally envisioned.

First, opera?  Yes, opera.  The Tel Aviv Opera is performing Shostakovitch's Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk  at the Tel Aviv Performing Arts Center for the next two weeks, and I decided this would be a wonderful way to initiate myself into the world of opera which, before my music history classes, was a terrifying and entirely foreign world (not just because they're all in foreign languages).  After hearing my professor's fantastic explanation of Lady Macbeth and the trouble that ensued for Shostakovitch, I realized I had no choice but to see it as soon as possible.  When I found out it was playing in Tel Aviv, I quickly decided I must go, so next week Thursday (barring a sold-out theater) a friend and I will take a bus there to see Shostakovitch's thrilling and incendiary opera which, I might add, won him his first denunciation in Stalinist Russia.  Though only after a few weeks of great success.

Now my problem is wardrobe.  I nearly kicked myself when my internal monologue whined "I have nothing to wear!"  But it's true.  I packed for Israel - and more specifically for a kibbutz - knowing that I probably wouldn't need black satin or nice sweaters.  Well, now I need precisely that and I don't have it in my limited closet.   So off to Rehovot we went, and back I came without shoes, a skirt, or a top.  Though I did get fresh dates and dried kiwi!

I was also unable to get to Bank HaPoalim because they have hours which easily confuse an American.  Only open until 1:ish most days of the week, until 6:30 pm Mondays and Thursdays...that makes it very challenging for an Ulpan student on a kibbutz to get over there.  Still, I'll make it work.  Maybe this Thursday.

It fascinated me, though, how on a single street, on a single block, I passed four shoe stores.  At least I know that if I need to buy a cute pair of black shoes I won't be at a loss.

And Israeli fashion is very different from American fashion.  In some ways I love it and it's just what I've wanted to find, but for the most part what I've found here seems to be heavily influenced by European styles that quite frankly make no sense to me.  Really, there are some kinds of clothes I simply don't know how to wear.  And I'm not terribly interested in paying fifty dollars for a shirt that can only be worn with at least two other shirts at the same time.  I just don't get it.

Still, what I wear to the opera is much less important than actually going.  If I show up in a black cotton knee-length skirt with sandals and a cute top, nobody will kick me out, and with Shostakovitch's opera playing in a dark theater, not a person will notice me.  Unless they really don't like Shostakovitch.  In which case I wonder "Why are they there?"  Really, it's not the end of the world if I don't find something.

It also gives me an excuse to go out again, find some new places, walk around, and finally get that cup of gelato I've been craving since I got here.

P.S.  About the Israeli obsession with chocolate:  In addition to there being tons of candy and chocolate pastry everywhere, there's this chocolate spread (like Nutella minus the hazelnuts) that is like crack to Israelis.  Kind of like Americans and peanut butter, I suppose.