The Kinneret—the Sea of Galilee, shaped like a harp—gives a completely different impression from the Dead Sea where we visited yesterday. You approach the Kinneret through flourishing farm fields and orchards rather than monochrome desert landscape. The shoreline is crowded with Israelis celebrating the holiday of Yom Ha'atzmaut (Independence Day) with a trip to the sea. Cars are festooned with Israeli flags, picnic and camp sites are packed, and the sea itself is buzzing with speedboats. Barbecues are a primary feature of today’s holiday, like our own Independence Day in the U.S., and from the bus we see smokey signs of this modern-day sacrificial offering.
It is said the Galilee is sweet because it knows how to take and to give (receiving three rivers in the north and flowing via the Jordan on to the south), while the Dead Sea is bitter because it only knows how to take (receiving the Jordan but stopping there and continuing no further)...
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Drink Your Water
Well, we’ve pretty much gotten used to hearing drink your water, drink your water, keep drinking constantly. Our Tour Leader, Tracy, has taken on the role of reminding us just before disembarking from the bus, to take your water, bring your water. And she usually reminds Arnie twice.
Poor Arnie. I swear I thought I saw him swimming off the bus last time we stopped.
Now, under the proverbial banner of TMI (too much information) Shari our tour-guide has taught us the most basic test for determining dehydration. And she swears every Israeli knows this one.
Here is what you do: After making your “peepee” (Biblical Hebrew for urinating), one needs to either turn around or look down, female and male respectively, and note the general color. If one’s peepee is fairly clear, then you have “Peepee Levan” and you are basically pretty well hydrated. However, if ones peepee is any other color you have “Peepee Shachor” and are probably at some stage of dehydration. Thus we’ve each become an expert on this litmus test for checking hydration levels.
Yeah yeah, I know, TMI.
Poor Arnie. I swear I thought I saw him swimming off the bus last time we stopped.
Now, under the proverbial banner of TMI (too much information) Shari our tour-guide has taught us the most basic test for determining dehydration. And she swears every Israeli knows this one.
Here is what you do: After making your “peepee” (Biblical Hebrew for urinating), one needs to either turn around or look down, female and male respectively, and note the general color. If one’s peepee is fairly clear, then you have “Peepee Levan” and you are basically pretty well hydrated. However, if ones peepee is any other color you have “Peepee Shachor” and are probably at some stage of dehydration. Thus we’ve each become an expert on this litmus test for checking hydration levels.
Yeah yeah, I know, TMI.
Yerushalayim
This poem was written by Cate back in Jerusalem, immediately after emerging from the Western Wall Tunnel (Sunday 4/22/07):
Yerushalayim
The sacred is everywhere and it is nowhere.
Cameras click, guns are silent.
What is holy when the holiness
is surrounded by everyone else's holy and
the vendors sell the crucifix next to the Kippot.
Good deals on both.
The muslim prayers resound by the
Second Station of the Cross
while armed men watch a veiled woman walk by
just before a cross is paraded along the Via Delorosa.
No one cries.
Yerushalayim
The sacred is everywhere and it is nowhere.
Cameras click, guns are silent.
What is holy when the holiness
is surrounded by everyone else's holy and
the vendors sell the crucifix next to the Kippot.
Good deals on both.
The muslim prayers resound by the
Second Station of the Cross
while armed men watch a veiled woman walk by
just before a cross is paraded along the Via Delorosa.
No one cries.
I too am not Sylvia!
This is Cate from somewhere just north of the Kinneret, which until 12 hours ago I only knew of as the Sea of Galilee. I never thought I would be in this part of the world and it is amazing. I am most definitely a tourist, not yet able to absorb but simply observe quietly and with all preconceptions smashed. Loved the Dead Sea, you really can float with no effort. And it really does taste foul, even just a drop. I'm getting used to seeing soldiers everywhere--streets, malls, the beach--carrying machine guns, casually slung over their shoulders. Laila Tov! Cate
This is Steve, not Sylvia.
Sylvia is making me write this, and will not let me have dinner until I write at least 50 words. Our trip has been remarkable. This is a complex country. Jerusalem is unbelievable in its vitality and vibrancy, and in its beauty. Muslims, Christians and Jews live side by side, walking in and out through each other's neighborhoods - and as long as there are all those Israelis with machine guns walking around, they all get along wonderfully. Talk about brotherly love. The ruins from the Roman period throughout this country are incredible - including the Temple Mount - who was the Jewish King under Rome. Yesterday Sylvia and I climbed Masada to see more of Herod's ruins. Two palaces rising high above the Dead Sea. The place is in ruins, of course, and I believe it would be a great place for condos - and perhaps a Starbucks.
Last night was the start of Israel's Independence Day. There were fireworks (which can be really f**king scarey in a country in which "boom, boom, boom" is not normally a harbinger of something good), and there was a huge festival in downtown Jerusalem, with the streets blocked off (by those guys and gals with the Uzi's), and once inside the secure area, there were bands playing (including a Hebrew Hip Hop stage). Independence Day follows Israel's Memorial Day. Everything is closed, and the television shows only the faces and stories of those lost to war and terrorism. I haven't said anything about the Dead Sea - an incredible source of beauty products (leave it to the Jews), and a great place to get wrapped in mud, have a massage, and float. What's gay life like in Israel - suffice it to say, "what happens in Israel, stays in Israel" unless of course you plaster it all over a blog. I understand that Sylvia will now allow me to eat dinner, so I'll sign off. Be well.
Last night was the start of Israel's Independence Day. There were fireworks (which can be really f**king scarey in a country in which "boom, boom, boom" is not normally a harbinger of something good), and there was a huge festival in downtown Jerusalem, with the streets blocked off (by those guys and gals with the Uzi's), and once inside the secure area, there were bands playing (including a Hebrew Hip Hop stage). Independence Day follows Israel's Memorial Day. Everything is closed, and the television shows only the faces and stories of those lost to war and terrorism. I haven't said anything about the Dead Sea - an incredible source of beauty products (leave it to the Jews), and a great place to get wrapped in mud, have a massage, and float. What's gay life like in Israel - suffice it to say, "what happens in Israel, stays in Israel" unless of course you plaster it all over a blog. I understand that Sylvia will now allow me to eat dinner, so I'll sign off. Be well.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
And on the third day...
Wed 4/18/07, part 1
Here’s how Israelis characterize their three major cities: Jerusalem prays, Tel Aviv plays, and Haifa works! Jerusalem is the country’s largest city (population 700,000). Tel Aviv is a cultural and commercial center with 24-hour nightlife (population 400,000). And Haifa is the city of industry.
Today we’ll be touring Tel Aviv. We enjoy the Dan Panorama hotel's amazing breakfast buffet with foods from all over the world—even Dim Sum, Davi! Our first stop is the port city of Old Jaffa. We’re greeted by a dolphin sculpture by a well-known local artist, having already come to recognize our tour bus by its blue dolphin motif. This morning Shari, our guide, from her spot at the front of the bus, tells us how in Israel you have to use your imagination to enter the past. Ignoring the crowded thoroughfare she says hypnotically, “Picture on your left nothing but sand dunes and on your right the Mediterranean Sea. That’s all that was here before Tel Aviv was founded.” She also encourages us to think about the difference between being a pilgrim and being a tourist. We each received a copy of "Israel: A Spiritual Traveler’s Guide," a book by Rabbi Lawrence A. Hoffman, who as it happens was also a thesis advisor to Rabbi Lisa. He too emphasizes the importance of spiritual preparation for the journey and provides readings, prayers and reflections to help frame our experiences along the way.
Coming soon: Wed 4/18/07, part 2!
Here’s how Israelis characterize their three major cities: Jerusalem prays, Tel Aviv plays, and Haifa works! Jerusalem is the country’s largest city (population 700,000). Tel Aviv is a cultural and commercial center with 24-hour nightlife (population 400,000). And Haifa is the city of industry.
Today we’ll be touring Tel Aviv. We enjoy the Dan Panorama hotel's amazing breakfast buffet with foods from all over the world—even Dim Sum, Davi! Our first stop is the port city of Old Jaffa. We’re greeted by a dolphin sculpture by a well-known local artist, having already come to recognize our tour bus by its blue dolphin motif. This morning Shari, our guide, from her spot at the front of the bus, tells us how in Israel you have to use your imagination to enter the past. Ignoring the crowded thoroughfare she says hypnotically, “Picture on your left nothing but sand dunes and on your right the Mediterranean Sea. That’s all that was here before Tel Aviv was founded.” She also encourages us to think about the difference between being a pilgrim and being a tourist. We each received a copy of "Israel: A Spiritual Traveler’s Guide," a book by Rabbi Lawrence A. Hoffman, who as it happens was also a thesis advisor to Rabbi Lisa. He too emphasizes the importance of spiritual preparation for the journey and provides readings, prayers and reflections to help frame our experiences along the way.
Coming soon: Wed 4/18/07, part 2!
In the beginning...
Monday 4/16/07
We are 16 people traveling together, and my mini group of five arrives three hours early Monday morning at LAX, as required by Continental for flights to Israel, only to discover that our 12:45pm flight has been delayed due to bad weather in Newark. First it looks like we’ll be leaving an hour and a half late, potentially missing our connecting flight to Tel Aviv. But then a sympathetic Continental agent named Angela at the check-in counter miraculously manages to rebook our entire group (us five plus three more) onto a flight an hour and a half earlier instead. All goes well and the early arrival in Newark gives us a leisurely two-hour layover, with dinner at the food court which has something for everyone and last-minute phone calls to loved ones. As passengers begin lining up for the flight to Tel Aviv, Orthodox men in black hats stand facing the eastern wall of the waiting area and begin evening prayers. We watch from a distance but take in once again our own sense of intentionality for this journey.
We’re finally on board but unfortunately—during the rebooking at LAX—we lost all our reserved seats nicely clustered together. With some fast thinking and talking we’re able to make some favorable seat trades that bring at least some of us back together. Despite patches of heavy turbulence the flight goes well and everyone gets some sleep.
Tues 4/17/07
Approaching Tel Aviv, seen through the airplane windows, the city emerges all at once almost magically from the haze. We touch down at the impressive new Ben Gurion airport—super bright and modern—around 4:00 pm. We traverse shiny expanses of light brown marble making our way to baggage claim, with those in our group who know Hebrew beginning to decipher all the different signs. We survive one case of almost-lost luggage.
Adrian, our temporary tour guide from the travel agency Arza meets us, until our trip’s permanent guide Shari can join us for dinner later. Adrian, born in London, tells us about Tel Aviv as we drive toward the city in 5:30pm rush hour traffic, which everyone agrees is not nearly as bad as rush hour in L.A. Adrian explains that the name Tel Aviv was chosen to represent both the old and the new—a new city in an ancient land. Tel means “ancient archaeological mound” and Aviv means “spring” or “renewal.”
The highway takes us past a massive former landfill, a flat-topped butte like you might find rising from a western American desert. It has recently been transformed into a park (Begin Park) that produces green energy. When it was still a landfill the birds it attracted used to cause problems for airplanes taking off and landing.
We’ve arrived during the end of spring moving into summer. It’s hot and humid here on the Mediterranean coast, though today’s weather is described by the locals as “dusty,” with hazy overcast skies tinted slightly orange. Our high-rise hotel, the Dan Panorama, overlooks the sea and we all have small balconies facing that direction. Next door is a historic mosque with its green-lit minaret at night. After checking into the hotel, we head over to the nearby Yemenite quarter for a delicious Middle Eastern dinner. (Lisa is delighted by the tasty vegetarian offerings!) With Israeli red wine we drink a toast to our trip’s organizers, especially Tracy and Gary and Shari, and another to Cate and Vanessa celebrating their second wedding anniversary today.
We are 16 people traveling together, and my mini group of five arrives three hours early Monday morning at LAX, as required by Continental for flights to Israel, only to discover that our 12:45pm flight has been delayed due to bad weather in Newark. First it looks like we’ll be leaving an hour and a half late, potentially missing our connecting flight to Tel Aviv. But then a sympathetic Continental agent named Angela at the check-in counter miraculously manages to rebook our entire group (us five plus three more) onto a flight an hour and a half earlier instead. All goes well and the early arrival in Newark gives us a leisurely two-hour layover, with dinner at the food court which has something for everyone and last-minute phone calls to loved ones. As passengers begin lining up for the flight to Tel Aviv, Orthodox men in black hats stand facing the eastern wall of the waiting area and begin evening prayers. We watch from a distance but take in once again our own sense of intentionality for this journey.
We’re finally on board but unfortunately—during the rebooking at LAX—we lost all our reserved seats nicely clustered together. With some fast thinking and talking we’re able to make some favorable seat trades that bring at least some of us back together. Despite patches of heavy turbulence the flight goes well and everyone gets some sleep.
Tues 4/17/07
Approaching Tel Aviv, seen through the airplane windows, the city emerges all at once almost magically from the haze. We touch down at the impressive new Ben Gurion airport—super bright and modern—around 4:00 pm. We traverse shiny expanses of light brown marble making our way to baggage claim, with those in our group who know Hebrew beginning to decipher all the different signs. We survive one case of almost-lost luggage.
Adrian, our temporary tour guide from the travel agency Arza meets us, until our trip’s permanent guide Shari can join us for dinner later. Adrian, born in London, tells us about Tel Aviv as we drive toward the city in 5:30pm rush hour traffic, which everyone agrees is not nearly as bad as rush hour in L.A. Adrian explains that the name Tel Aviv was chosen to represent both the old and the new—a new city in an ancient land. Tel means “ancient archaeological mound” and Aviv means “spring” or “renewal.”
The highway takes us past a massive former landfill, a flat-topped butte like you might find rising from a western American desert. It has recently been transformed into a park (Begin Park) that produces green energy. When it was still a landfill the birds it attracted used to cause problems for airplanes taking off and landing.
We’ve arrived during the end of spring moving into summer. It’s hot and humid here on the Mediterranean coast, though today’s weather is described by the locals as “dusty,” with hazy overcast skies tinted slightly orange. Our high-rise hotel, the Dan Panorama, overlooks the sea and we all have small balconies facing that direction. Next door is a historic mosque with its green-lit minaret at night. After checking into the hotel, we head over to the nearby Yemenite quarter for a delicious Middle Eastern dinner. (Lisa is delighted by the tasty vegetarian offerings!) With Israeli red wine we drink a toast to our trip’s organizers, especially Tracy and Gary and Shari, and another to Cate and Vanessa celebrating their second wedding anniversary today.
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