It is an August post-namesake-hurricane day in Provincetown. Blue sky, tourists ambling about and I am taking time from writing a report to think about vacation in December. Back to Israel with my trusted traveling companion for two weeks. The pull is extraordinary and when I thought about Paris or London or anywhere else for vacation, those cities were swept out of my head by a vision of Jerusalem as a first saw it....gold and stone glittering in the sun. I know it is not always wise to tie yourself to a dream of what you believe a place to be. The sense of place I often feel in Provincetown is sharper in Jerusalem.....more mysterious and less understandable since I am a New Englander at heart. Born and bred Rhode Islander, but also a believer that certain places give us a stronger sense of being alive than others. Just a short musing on a perfect Provincetown day, but a day on which I feel pulled to somewhere else.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Born in the USA
We have been back from Israel since Thursday night, after a 24 hour trek (thank you, American Eagle, for not having a pilot ready and getting us back 2 hours late, and then losing luggage). The El Al flight was great and the security at Ben Gurion inspired confidence. Lessons learned at airport security: taking shoes off is silly; asking questions again and again is not silly; screening luggage and checking passports more than once is smart. The Israelis have it right and I appreciate that, although time consuming and repetitive, it is safer and wiser to ask questions again and again. I spent part of the flight wondering which passenger was the Mossad agent; my image of Mossad has been affected by the character of Ziva David on NCIS, so I think I wouldn't have guessed it even if the guy/gal was sitting next to me.
Life is getting back to normal: laundry, cats, work on Monday, dinner with friends. I joked today with my traveling companion that I'm starting to save for my next trip to Israel as I put 3 quarters in the change dish on my bookcase. Biggest lesson in all of this for me: do not delay joy, even if you believe, as the Druse do, that you die and come back immediately. If you are called to do something, do it. Life is to short not to.
Life is getting back to normal: laundry, cats, work on Monday, dinner with friends. I joked today with my traveling companion that I'm starting to save for my next trip to Israel as I put 3 quarters in the change dish on my bookcase. Biggest lesson in all of this for me: do not delay joy, even if you believe, as the Druse do, that you die and come back immediately. If you are called to do something, do it. Life is to short not to.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
PS to journey's end
If our guide Isaac Dorenbush is reading this, I want him to know that he is also part of our Israeli experience. His sense of humor, patience, and graciousness went a long way to make the first week here a joy. We will be happy to recipricate if he ever wants to return to visit Provincetown!
Last thoughts on Israel
We just watched the sun set over the Mediteranean from the boardwalk along the beach in Tel Aviv. Sad to be leaving, but I will be happy to be home, of course. And what did I learn today (or the past 2 weeks)? I learned that you have to experience life on someone else's turf to truly understand them and that security in the defense of survival is a necessary sacrifice (something Americans learned in a lesser context after 9/11). This country of amazing landscapes, a legacy for Jews that goes back thousands of years, and probably the most determined people on the planet has taught me so much. Things I didn't write about before include the great physical beauty of the people and their love of fresh, locally grown food (we didn't have a bad meal here....food and wine are appreciated and agriculture is a national pride). As opposed to what I was told before coming here, the people are friendly, gracious and make great attempts to speak English (and laugh at their own mistakes!).
This is a country I hope to come back to at some time, but if I am not able to these memories will stay with me forever. From Tel Aviv to Haifa to Safed to the Golan Heights to Jerusalem to Eilat, this country is a marvel. Tomorrow, home to another marvel.....Provincetown.
This is a country I hope to come back to at some time, but if I am not able to these memories will stay with me forever. From Tel Aviv to Haifa to Safed to the Golan Heights to Jerusalem to Eilat, this country is a marvel. Tomorrow, home to another marvel.....Provincetown.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
And you thought Massachusetts drivers are bad
Yesterday was a lesson in patience and bladder control. At a lovely Thanksgiving dinner at Sally and Joan's, I mentioned to Alix that I was going to Israel, including some time in Eilat on the Red Sea. She told me that I should go to Petra in Jordan, that it was a must see. She was surely right, and I am so glad we went. My only complaint is about the journey. First the good news; Petra is a site in Jordan where the Nabatean culture (2000 years ago) carved a city into the cliffs. There were approximately 50,000 people living in this area at the time. The carvings included a huge treasury building, altars to their gods, and a huge amphitheater. Petra (just Google it) is one of the man-made wonders of the world. On the appoximately (this is being written after 2 glasses of fine Israeli merlot), 1.5 mile walk into the site you walk through canyons of rock that have altars carved into it and simple aqueducts for water to run into the city. One can rent a chariot with a horse or a camel to get you into Petra, but the Romans (them again) paved the way in with large stones, making it treacherous for the horses and camels. Walking in is down hill, walking out the reverse. It's a hard trek, but well worth it.
On the other hand, actually getting to the entrance is a pain in the ass. Going from Eilat in Israel, you get driven to the Jordanian border, get your exit approved on the Israeli side, walk through a strange DMZ kind of area and then meet your Jordanian guide, who has a guy take all of our passports and disappear for awhile. Our guide was Hassan, who clearly was phoning it in. Odd thing about him was that he wore ear muffs the whole time; it was about 60 degrees when we started, sometimes warmer. The Jordanians have cops with the title of "Tourist Police" at the border and have a cop on the busses taking tourists to Petra. All very strange. After our group of 17 (we were 2 of 4 Americans; the rest were Israelis, South Africans, and 2 Argentinians on their honeymoon) got on the bus, we went for a nightmare ride of hairpin turns that tested our nerves. Hassan was droning on in unintelligible English (he's also supposedly fluent in Greek, but I don't buy it). Since only a few of us have English as our first language and he wasn't particularly good at speaking English, most of what he said wasn't understood by any of us. We get to Petra and what should have been a 1 hour walk in took forever. Petra is a little chaotic; horses, camels, old guys selling fake ancient coins, and little kids selling postcards. Still it was worth it all. Incredible site and a tribute to the creativity of humans in tough circumstances.
We trekked back up, got on the bus, and were taken to lunch at what Hassan said was a 5 star restaurant: if that was a 5 star restaurant, I'm King Hussein. Then we went back through the mountains to the Arava desert valley, at breakneck speed with hairpin turns that were truly scary. Most of the folks closed their eyes and prayed for sleep. After all this speeding, which included passing every other tourist bus on the road, we stopped 20 miles from the border so Hassan, the driver and the cop on the bus could smoke. THEN we went on an unscheduled tour through the town of Aqaba. By then, we were all almost begging to get back to the Israeli border. When we did, the process to get back into Israel was long and complex: questons, xray machines, metal detectors, more questions. And not one of us was annoyed by this. The necessity for these tight controls is obvious to anyone who spends more than one day in Israel. I was glad that the process was so efficient and thorough.Petra is a must see for anyone traveling in the Middle East. It is worth the money (with the $45 charge for a Jordanian visa and the $150 pp for the guide) and the hassle.
Today Yehuda the guide (who Michele referred to as Yoda after a glass of wine tonight) picked us and our little tour group up to take us to Timnor, the site of Egyptian copper mines during the reign of Ramses II. Very cool site. I struggled with the climb up some steep rocks, but again it was worth the hassle. We also visited the undersea aquarium in Eilat which was lovely, but (not to be a jaded American) was not up to the quality at Sea World (sorry, folks for being so American). We then went off to a Bedouin village for lunch. Our itinerary mentioned that we would learn about Bedouin culture, have lunch, ride camels. Well, the Bedouins gave us a serviceable lunch of hummus, olives, bread, and vegetables, but the only thing we learned about the Bedouins was from Yehuda who told us that they run drugs, don't pay taxes, and suck resources from the Israeli government. Probably all true, but it felt a little odd eating their food and riding their camels (I did not ride a camel, but Michele did and she has pictures to prove it) while listening to someone say how horrible they are. Then the ride to Tel Aviv.....Yehuda drove like the Jordanian bus driver through the mountain pass after the Arava desert crossing. So, 4 times in the past two days we have been driven through the Arava desert and over the mountains by nutty drivers. Twice on the Israeli side and twice on the Jordanian side. I think I'm done with it.
So, here we are in Tel Aviv for our last night and day in the amazing country. Dinner at Miguel's, where we ate our first night here. Tomorrow a little exploration and then off to the airport for a 1 am flight on December 24th to start the journey home. Very sad about leaving, although leaving with a new appreciation for the spirit of the Israeli people and the tragic history, from Massada to the Holocaust, that has made the survival of this little country so important.
On the other hand, actually getting to the entrance is a pain in the ass. Going from Eilat in Israel, you get driven to the Jordanian border, get your exit approved on the Israeli side, walk through a strange DMZ kind of area and then meet your Jordanian guide, who has a guy take all of our passports and disappear for awhile. Our guide was Hassan, who clearly was phoning it in. Odd thing about him was that he wore ear muffs the whole time; it was about 60 degrees when we started, sometimes warmer. The Jordanians have cops with the title of "Tourist Police" at the border and have a cop on the busses taking tourists to Petra. All very strange. After our group of 17 (we were 2 of 4 Americans; the rest were Israelis, South Africans, and 2 Argentinians on their honeymoon) got on the bus, we went for a nightmare ride of hairpin turns that tested our nerves. Hassan was droning on in unintelligible English (he's also supposedly fluent in Greek, but I don't buy it). Since only a few of us have English as our first language and he wasn't particularly good at speaking English, most of what he said wasn't understood by any of us. We get to Petra and what should have been a 1 hour walk in took forever. Petra is a little chaotic; horses, camels, old guys selling fake ancient coins, and little kids selling postcards. Still it was worth it all. Incredible site and a tribute to the creativity of humans in tough circumstances.
We trekked back up, got on the bus, and were taken to lunch at what Hassan said was a 5 star restaurant: if that was a 5 star restaurant, I'm King Hussein. Then we went back through the mountains to the Arava desert valley, at breakneck speed with hairpin turns that were truly scary. Most of the folks closed their eyes and prayed for sleep. After all this speeding, which included passing every other tourist bus on the road, we stopped 20 miles from the border so Hassan, the driver and the cop on the bus could smoke. THEN we went on an unscheduled tour through the town of Aqaba. By then, we were all almost begging to get back to the Israeli border. When we did, the process to get back into Israel was long and complex: questons, xray machines, metal detectors, more questions. And not one of us was annoyed by this. The necessity for these tight controls is obvious to anyone who spends more than one day in Israel. I was glad that the process was so efficient and thorough.Petra is a must see for anyone traveling in the Middle East. It is worth the money (with the $45 charge for a Jordanian visa and the $150 pp for the guide) and the hassle.
Today Yehuda the guide (who Michele referred to as Yoda after a glass of wine tonight) picked us and our little tour group up to take us to Timnor, the site of Egyptian copper mines during the reign of Ramses II. Very cool site. I struggled with the climb up some steep rocks, but again it was worth the hassle. We also visited the undersea aquarium in Eilat which was lovely, but (not to be a jaded American) was not up to the quality at Sea World (sorry, folks for being so American). We then went off to a Bedouin village for lunch. Our itinerary mentioned that we would learn about Bedouin culture, have lunch, ride camels. Well, the Bedouins gave us a serviceable lunch of hummus, olives, bread, and vegetables, but the only thing we learned about the Bedouins was from Yehuda who told us that they run drugs, don't pay taxes, and suck resources from the Israeli government. Probably all true, but it felt a little odd eating their food and riding their camels (I did not ride a camel, but Michele did and she has pictures to prove it) while listening to someone say how horrible they are. Then the ride to Tel Aviv.....Yehuda drove like the Jordanian bus driver through the mountain pass after the Arava desert crossing. So, 4 times in the past two days we have been driven through the Arava desert and over the mountains by nutty drivers. Twice on the Israeli side and twice on the Jordanian side. I think I'm done with it.
So, here we are in Tel Aviv for our last night and day in the amazing country. Dinner at Miguel's, where we ate our first night here. Tomorrow a little exploration and then off to the airport for a 1 am flight on December 24th to start the journey home. Very sad about leaving, although leaving with a new appreciation for the spirit of the Israeli people and the tragic history, from Massada to the Holocaust, that has made the survival of this little country so important.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
South Beach in Hebrew
So, here we are in Eilat on the Gulf of Aqaba (Red Sea) and I might be jaded, but I think it's a cross between South Beach and oddly enough Downtown Disney. Lovely hotel and a schizoid boardwalk. In one place H. Stern jewelry store, and a few hundred feet away, a Burger King. Upscale meets downscale. Had dinner at an outside place with good food and the first bad service we've had in Israel. Cute guy waiter was busy chatting up girls.
Our trip today was strange; new guide Yehuda is a nice guy, but seems to be ambivalent. We miss Isaac and, as annoying as some of our other travel mates were, there's one woman in our group of 7 who is just a pain in the ass. The fun part of today was our visit to the Israeli Air Force Museum and a fine tour with Yael, a charming young woman IAF member. We then went to a kibbutz where David Ben Gurion and his wife Paula lived. Ben Gurion was Israel's first Prime Minister and was a hero to many American Jews (me included) in the 50's. We went to his grave, which was near a cliff looking into the Negev desert. We had lunch there and witnessed the dreadful woman in our group be rude to the woman in the cafeteria; later she was a little rude to our guide. Two of the women in our group are lovely, so it kind of made up for the shrew.
Tomorrow at dawn was get picked up and taken to the Jordanian border where we get a one day visa to go into Jordan to visit Petra. Must go to sleep soon and store up energy for the 2.8 mile walk into Petra; we can ride a camel or a horse, or even a chariot. Think I'll pass on the camel.
Today's entry might sound disjointed, but the long drive through the desert was exhausting. Our room looks out over the Red Sea and I think I'll fall asleep tonight with the balcony door open and a breeze from the sea. More from Eilat tomorrow....
Our trip today was strange; new guide Yehuda is a nice guy, but seems to be ambivalent. We miss Isaac and, as annoying as some of our other travel mates were, there's one woman in our group of 7 who is just a pain in the ass. The fun part of today was our visit to the Israeli Air Force Museum and a fine tour with Yael, a charming young woman IAF member. We then went to a kibbutz where David Ben Gurion and his wife Paula lived. Ben Gurion was Israel's first Prime Minister and was a hero to many American Jews (me included) in the 50's. We went to his grave, which was near a cliff looking into the Negev desert. We had lunch there and witnessed the dreadful woman in our group be rude to the woman in the cafeteria; later she was a little rude to our guide. Two of the women in our group are lovely, so it kind of made up for the shrew.
Tomorrow at dawn was get picked up and taken to the Jordanian border where we get a one day visa to go into Jordan to visit Petra. Must go to sleep soon and store up energy for the 2.8 mile walk into Petra; we can ride a camel or a horse, or even a chariot. Think I'll pass on the camel.
Today's entry might sound disjointed, but the long drive through the desert was exhausting. Our room looks out over the Red Sea and I think I'll fall asleep tonight with the balcony door open and a breeze from the sea. More from Eilat tomorrow....
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Farewwell Old City
Shabbat in Jerusalem. All quiet until you get into the Old City which is bustling. It was packed with religious Jews, Christian tourists and tons of Moslems. We went to the Western Wall. I didn't want to leave Jerusalem without another prayer at the Wall or miss the opportunity to see the men (and men only, gals) reading the Torah portion of the day in that holy place. As you walk onto the plaza, there are signs asking that you don't use phones, write messages on slips of paper to place in the Wall, or use cameras, out of respect for those observing Shabbat. Yikes, people were paying no attention. Cameras, phones, etc. One woman (American or European) was using a video camera to record the scene of women on one side of the fence separating the men's section from the women. When the men brought the Torah to the fence so the women could kiss it after the Torah reading for the day, I found it very moving and annoying all at the same time. Moving because of the devoutness of the women and their intensity; annoying because I am so used to seeing women reading from Torah in the US. Rabbi Deanna Douglas, who Am HaYam is fortunate to have for the High Holidays, is as devout as these women, but has full access to her religious expression. But I digress; while this was happening at the fence, the woman with the video camera was recording away on some kind of anthropological quest. I just thought it was rude to disrespect others' beliefs.
After leaving the Kotel, we wandered around the Old City and walked too far on the Via Dolorosa and landed in a Moslem neighborhood where the IDF was taking Arab youth and searching them. Michele got VERY nervous and we hightailed it out of there. All is could hear in my head was our guide Isaac saying "stay close to me". I wasn't particularly worried and figured we had the whole Old City experience. I did feel badly that I started to go up a stairway that would have led to a mosque; the guy who stopped me was gracious however and realized that we just didn't know where the staircase was leading. Large police and IDF presence in the Old City today. Once back at the hotel, we realized that we had walked through every sector of the Old City and had walked on almost every street.
We leave Jerusalem tomorrow early in the morning for Eilat. I hope I will come back here some day. The usual Passover phrase "next year in Jerusalem" has more meaning for me now.
After leaving the Kotel, we wandered around the Old City and walked too far on the Via Dolorosa and landed in a Moslem neighborhood where the IDF was taking Arab youth and searching them. Michele got VERY nervous and we hightailed it out of there. All is could hear in my head was our guide Isaac saying "stay close to me". I wasn't particularly worried and figured we had the whole Old City experience. I did feel badly that I started to go up a stairway that would have led to a mosque; the guy who stopped me was gracious however and realized that we just didn't know where the staircase was leading. Large police and IDF presence in the Old City today. Once back at the hotel, we realized that we had walked through every sector of the Old City and had walked on almost every street.
We leave Jerusalem tomorrow early in the morning for Eilat. I hope I will come back here some day. The usual Passover phrase "next year in Jerusalem" has more meaning for me now.
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