Chapter Two: Israel

Israel

Penguin at Caesarea

Security here was much more intense than in Germany. More than once we were asked a barrage of questions: Where were we staying, who was meeting us, how long was our visit, what was its purpose? We were able to answer most questions, but the one thing we didn't know is where we were staying. I knew the name of Ra's mother, and that he was to pick us up. But I had no idea in which town we were staying. In fact, I soon realized that I had not discussed where we would meet him. I had only sent the flight info and left it at that. So I hoped we were not lying by saying that he was picking us up. Surely, they had a way of knowing. And I wouldn't want to be caught lying to Israel!

On the long walk to passport control, I had the chance to take in the airport. It was a 70s version of what modern would be, with its large open space in the main terminal with water falling down from the roof into a fountain at its center. It was 3am, but the airport was bustling with people. It looked more like it was afternoon except for the darkness outside the windows. And something about the interior architecture of this airport reminded me of the various synagogues I've been to over the years. I'm not sure what exactly did this for me. Maybe the stark stone walls rising high to remind the Jewish people of the hardships they have overcome. Or maybe it was all in my mind, in its excited state of actually being in a new land.

At passport control, we answered nearly the same questions as before. I could hear the woman speaking to Tom, who was about 10 feet to my left. She was giving him a harder time than the person in front of me. I could hear him refer to me and her asking why he had called me Penguin. She moved forward to look in my direction. I turned to her and waved. Somehow, she trusted us and let him pass. We went through customs and into the large terminal building. There were plenty of people waiting for their party, but no signs of Ra or Sasha. We went out front to see if they were waiting there for us. I thought for a moment, and in knowing Ra like I do, I felt he would not simply drive by and expect to pick us up. I knew he'd park and meet us inside, so I suggested that we return to look for him. But before being allowed back inside, we were stopped a third time for questions!

Rasha finally arrived and soon we were on the early morning streets of Israel heading to Ra's house. We were together at last, the four of us. It would be this way for a month as we moved around the Middle East. And as we made our way towards his parent's home making small talk, I took in all the sights I could, as I normally do when traveling. I'm not here for my health, after all. I'm here to see all that I can and to absorb as much as possible. This is how I can take in as much in a 2-day trip as most people would do a week. Only this time, I'd have that week, even a bit more.

Jean and Oded put signs out for our welcome

After our arrival, we got about 4 and a half hours of sleep. I was in a small spare room on an inflatable mattress. Tom slept on a futon pad in the living room and Rasha slept in the guest room. These arrangements were made as such to accommodate my snoring, which seems to offend the others as if I had leprosy. Works fine for me, however. I got my own room!

It was nearly noon when Ra's sister, Yael, phoned and arranged for us to meet her and the boyfriend for lunch in Tel Aviv, which was about 20 minutes south. We pulled into a parking lot overlooking the Mediterranean. The place was called the Old Man in the Sea. Great food! Ra is always talking about how good the food is in his home land. And he was right. It was good, and expensive, like a trip to New York might be.

We sat down and were served about 20 or more small plates of appetizers. There was hummus and tahini, eggplant, falafel, cabbage, olives and wonderful flat bread, fresh from the oven. And when a plate was emptied, another could be had. I ordered calamari, but soon realized that I should have just had the appetizers. It was all so good, and plentiful. And afterwords we were served tea or coffee along with fried dough balls similar to donuts, served in a sweet glaze.

This would be the first of many great meals we would have in Israel. I fell in love with the food and any time we were given an option I'd always suggest more of the local cuisine. The hummus was always fresh and creamy. The kibbeh was the best I'd ever had. Tibouli was great as well and the pita was so much better than anything found in the US.

We took a long walk along the beach and watched the sun set, which happens at a surprisingly early 1630Hrs. We had drinks at an Irish pub and then hung out all evening at Yael's apartment in the city, located across the street from the park where President Rabin was assassinated; eerie and historical.

Each evening on our trip would end visiting with friends, most of whom I've met from previous visits to the US, or because at one time they lived in the states. It was Ra's chance to catch up with old friends, and it was fun getting out and being social; living like a rock star- places to go, people to see. They are interesting people; friendly and caring. They all seem to lack a great sense of humor, but laugh when I manage to say something they do think is funny, but they don't laugh as loud as we seem to back home. They love their country and ask if it's my first visit and are very interested to know how I like it.

Oded, Ra's father, on the rooftop balcony.


Friday morning:
"It's still dark out, but I suspect not for long. Outside my open window I can hear birds preparing for the day, chirping sounds I'm not quite familiar with- exotic and foreign. My ears pick out another sound and I realized the familiar chatter of a squirrel feeling threatened by something, maybe a cat roaming nearby. I hear a baby cry in the distance and then a car. It's too early to be up but I can't go back to sleep. Jet lag sucks. But I'll have time to get over it."

Later, I mention hearing the squirrel to Jean, Ra's mom. She tells me that there are no squirrels in Israel. I had a hard time believing it, but she must know. So what it was that I heard making such a similar sound I don't know. But later, in India, I would hear a lizard that sounds like a bird!

Jean encouraged us to make ourselves at home. She points out the coffee and tea and the pantry door, behind which we could find breakfast-y things. I know her well enough to know that she means it. I pass on the coffee and tea, but have a bite to eat with a glass of water. Jean sits at the counter with a bowl of yogurt with granola and a piece of fruit doing sudoku. Sasha warns us to be careful if having coffee; the jar next to the coffee machine is full of salt, not sugar. This begins a line of questions "who puts salt in a jar next to a coffee maker?", but the answer is obvious in Jean.

Jean and Oded moved from the house Ra grew up in (which was right around the corner) and now live on the top floor of a smallish apartment high rise. It's a two-story home with great views towards the West. There are other buildings in this area, and other shorter homes in the near distance. I soon realized that I saw very few houses. It seems most people here live in buildings; some tall and others much smaller. A regional airport nearby kept small planes buzzing around the sky, which constantly gave me something to look at. The air is cool and damp in the mornings; nearly each on my stay being met with fog, which Jean says if very uncommon. In fact, it shut down the airport a few times. We were lucky, though; Jean says it had been really hot until just before our arrival. There was no need for the air conditioner during my stay; open windows kept the house cool.

Sunday:
"Yesterday we paid a short visit to Ra's older sister. I was telling her that as far away from home as we are, I don't really feel it. The trees are familiar. The faces look pretty much the same. Cars drive on the right side of the road. Even the weather is very familiar. I often feel like I'm back in Texas. It's warm, but not too hot, and very humid. The air is often hazy, which Ra says is something he's not used to seeing, and suspects it's smog, yet the locals all swear it's not.

We've yet to see many of the ancient sights, which I'm eager for. We've been to Tel Aviv and Jaffa and a few places here in Ra'Ananna. Friday, which is the start of the weekend here, was the open house for friends and family to stop by for brunch and a visit. Yesterday, realizing we've still got a lot to see and only 4 days left, we made a list of things to see each day. It's a full schedule, and I'm sure to be tired often, as I continue to recover from my illness. For me, the thrill is still just being in Israel!"

Caesarea


The first time we really got out of the Tel Aviv area was to visit the ancient sea port of Caesarea, built by Herod the Great in honor of Augustus Caesar. The ruins were fun to explore, and I loved seeing the Roman tiled floors, or what's left of them. It made me really eager to visit Rome, another city on my bucket list.

The others went off in a direction that was less interesting to me, and I quickly realized that my sight-seeing agenda was different from theirs, so I broke off and went out on my own to explore the ruins. We met up eventually and took some humorous photos. Ra and Tom jogged around the site a bit while I sat in the royal bleachers, where Herod and his dignitaries once sat, taking in the sights of the Mediterranean Sea, as if I myself, were royalty.

At one point I scurried to the water's edge and felt the cool waters of the Mediterranean. As I looked down, I found a small piece of ancient tile; a gift from the sea, I placed it in my pocket, and hoped it was OK to do so.

The sun sets below clouds across the Mediterranean

We all watched as the sun touched down and sank below the horizon. It was quite a sight to see. But then I looked back to see the moon rise, and what a glorious present that was! It was a nice day, but I do wish we had arrived earlier so I could have seen a little more of the area. But, I always like to leave things undone for future visits.

Jerusalem

The Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem

I was so excited to see Jerusalem that the night before, I brought up the subject of our departure time so we wouldn't be hemming and hawing and getting a late start. It seemed we'd fallen into a pattern of doing just that and I really wanted to make sure we didn't end up missing out on something because we left later than I would want to.

On the drive there, I got to see more of Israel from the freeways; a giant hill of trash, a Coke processing plant, an odd structural city that looks like a cross between a power plant and an oil refinery. We observed the wild drivers and the way in which numerous cars seemed to just pull over to the side of the highway for various reasons. Tom pointed out at one point that a man seemed to be simply cleaning his windshield. Driving here is almost a free-for-all.

We climbed the road into the hills leading to the ancient city, which looked to me like areas of Austin, TX. The small trees could easily have been mesquite. The layers of rocky striation were captivating; layer upon layer, as we kept climbing in altitude. It made me wonder what people 3,000 years ago must have thought when they saw it, before understanding how the earth was made.

The modern city of Jerusalem was large, bustling and cramped. We had to fight a lot of traffic but we finally arrived at the walled part of the old city. We parked so we could walk through the Damascus Gate. The first sense to take in Jerusalem was that of smell. The source was a burning pile of trash, which included a good amount of plastics. It made me think of the Christian invention of Hell. (Hell was a city in Israel where they burned trash.) And while this was no city on fire, I could understand the alliteration. It was entirely odd to me that here was this burning pile of garbage just outside the walls, on the grass, in the sun, on a glorious morning, mere feet from the walls of Jerusalem.

Ra on the street in Jerusalem

I'm not sure what I expected to see when entering the old city. Prior to arriving, I'd never researched it. I'm not sure I'd even seen maps or photos. I thought it would be like a ruin, with old building and squares. But it was a living city full in inhabitants living off the coattails of tourists. The narrow streets, mere walkways mostly paved with large worn-down stones, were small and cramped with vendors selling wares and slow moving tourists from around the world. They went up inclines with narrow ramps so carts could easily navigate the steps. It was aromatic from food and spice markets. It was a maze, with alleys and doors and roads branching off in other directions. And it seemed to be an entire world unto itself, full of mystery and power; secrets and stories of the ages.

We had entered on the road separating the Islamic and Christian quarters, but the road was lined with Islamic vendors selling food and trinkets. Mostly we followed Ra, who turned down a random street. We passed a group of tourists and suddenly found a marker on the wall and realized we had been walking on a road where Jesus had supposedly carried his cross and the marker was one of the stations. It was such an unassuming road!

We reached the Jewish quarter, after passing through security, and the 3 men in our group went up to the Western (or Wailing) Wall (women have their own smaller section). It was very moving. There were numerous groups of men parading to the wall with Torahs in celebration of Bar Mitzvahs. There were men leaning against the wall in prayer, some in tears, rocking back and forth. And the cracks of the wall were stuffed with pieces of paper holding the prayers of those who had placed them.


I touched the wall and thought of my brother and how he was to become a father at any time, and I thought of my step-father and of my years studying Judaism. It was difficult to hold my emotions in check, knowing how this wall was so sacred to this religion. And it was such a tough and stark wall. It was just a wall, the remnants of a synagogue destroyed more than once. The Jews have endured so much and all they get is a wall! A glorious wall; and there I was touching it.

We next went the long way to the Dome of the Rock and took numerous photos of all of us. We climbed around on the city wall overlooking the Tomb of Mary on a hill outside the city within a huge cemetery. We overstayed our welcome and were the last foreigners to leave that quarter for the day. I was happy to not start an international incident for our careless overstay of our welcome, as I hear that's easy to do. The Muslim Dome of the Rock, built to best the domes of the Church


Next we began a quest that I was on to find a cross for my grandmother, whose last one was in the purse that was stolen at her local grocery store. We found the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Here is where I really wish we had a tour guide, as I had no idea what the place was about or what things were that we were looking at. I went all around and took it in, though, thinking of my grandmother and aunts, for whom I knew this would have a great deal of meaning. I even lit a candle in honor of Isty and said a prayer for Poppy, who died 10 years ago.

One of the domes inside the Holy Church

This I did on the side of a small building under the dome of the church. On the back side of this building was a man in what seemed to be a small store. I asked the man what the purpose of this building was. I was told this is where Jesus head was, and was offered the chance to touch the stone connected to the wall that separated me from Jesus. Jesus was decapitated? Well I had no idea we had a hold of Jesus' body, let alone his head! This is something I'm going to have to do more research on, to be sure! (But I did touch the stone.)

It wasn't until I got home that I watched a show about this church. Turns out the alter upstairs that seemed so popular was built on a rock that is believed to be that which held the cross upon which Jesus was crucified. The large slab I touched after seeing so many others doing so was part of his tomb. And the large black building with the huge, long line snaking for ever was believed to be the tomb from which Jesus ascended to heaven. Funny how broken English can be so easily misunderstood.

Upon our exit, I stopped in the first store we came across to buy crosses for Itsy, as well as my aunts, Donna and Patty, thus fulfilling my mission. It was now mid-afternoon, and being hungry, we decided it was time for lunch. My mouth had been watering over the swarama roasting in the streets and I pictured us dinning in one of the quaint restaurants in the old city. Ra called a friend of his who recommended a place just outside the city wall, so we were off.

Through the Jaffa gate and down some stairs, we found ourselves suddenly and almost violently thrust through time and back in 2010. Here was a shopping mall, the likes of which you'd find in any cosmopolitan city. It was complete with a Gap and a fancy coffee shop and art lined the outdoor walkway. Modern glass windows with mannequins wearing the latest trendy fashions were placed between stone pillars and modern lighted signs and neon. It was almost offensive! And at the top of some large stone steps we found our destination. It looked fancy, with small plates and linen awaiting each new dining party and servers dressed in black and white uniforms. I believe my comment was, "This is going to be an expensive meal." And it was, but the food was good and the portions were like the stores below: Americanized.

Jerusalem was crowded and cramped, but it was old and magical in a special way. There are so many important things for the largest and most influential religions within the walls of this old city. They seem to coexist so well together here. It made me wish that we could find a way for the rest of the world to come together and find peace in the ability to believe and pray in our own way.

And as we drove to a lookout point over the city on Mount Copus, I had a thought that made me warm inside. More than 3 billion people representing the 3 largest religions, Jews, Christians and Muslims all turn to Israel in their prayers…and here I am, right in the heart of it, feeling the power of those thoughts and happy to be doing so.

Looking over Jerusalem on Mt. Copus

Before heading home, we stopped on the East side of the mount where we saw the huge moon rising. Below it, a road wound through the hills and into the dessert; white lights of cars on the left, red on the right. The road went East, on to the Dead Sea and Jordan. It was one of the more memorable moon rises of my life.

With plans to visit more of Ra's friends that night, we went back home. Tom took the front seat, due to his car-sickness. But he wound up sleeping most of the way, and as I stayed up to take in the sights from the back, I was a little peeved that the front seat was being wasted. I was like a puppy dog, wanting to see it all from the passenger seat!

The Dead Sea and Masada

Before leaving for Israel, I pretty much left the itinerary up to Ra to show us what he thought we might want to see besides Jerusalem. One of the few things on my must-see list was the Dead Sea- the lowest point above water on Earth, more salty than any body of water, and still fascinating to me all these years after learning about it from high school studies.

To get there meant going back through Jerusalem. Traffic was worse this time, and was partially due to a convoy of 4 trucks slowly transporting large, ominous army tanks. On our right was a hill supporting the Jerusalem suburbs. In front were the tanks. And on the left, a well-fortified wall complete with razor wire- the occupied territory. Passing tanks near Jerusalem


After passing the tanks, with some fascination from my travel partners, we entered an area that became arid and monotone. The road sank into the dull, sandy hills and every so often we would pass a marker indicating how far below sea level we had traveled. When I spotted my first camel of this trip, I cried out, "Camels!" Ra chuckled aloud, saying his guests from last week had done the same thing at the same spot.

Soon, the Dead Sea and the mountains of Jordan just beyond were on my left. To the right, a ridge of mountains with tell-tale signs of various water lines indicative of how high the sea once was – probably thousands of years ago or more. It made me wonder if Jesus had seen the Dead Sea and how high it might have been at that time; or how high it would have been when they had built the pyramids in Egypt, some 6,000 years ago.
Looking South as Tom takes photos

Every few miles were large orchards of palm trees; thick, lush towering trees with green palms, arranged into neat rows. These orchards were for harvesting dates, and each time we passed one, I couldn't stop staring, studying them and imagining running under their canopy of shade or how cool it would be to have them lining a road leading up to an opulent home.

Driving further we came to a checkpoint. We had entered the occupied territory some distance back and were now re-entering Israel proper. It's nothing to get out, but they want to know who's coming back in! It was barely a stop. After seeing that we were not Arabs, we were motioned through, prompting us to joke, "These are not the Arabs you are looking for," a la Star Wars.

Masada was grand…simply unbelievable for what went on there in 77 BCE. At its base was a modern facility with a parking garage, a simple museum, a great, scale model of the mesa and surrounding area, a movie theater and a suspended cable car to take people to the top. After a short film to view the history of the fortified city, we boarded the cable car that would take us to an elevation 33 feet above sea level. It was easy to imagine living up there. It was spectacular in its views of the Dead Sea Valley and the taller mountains along the Israeli side.

When we reached the highest point of the mesa where Herod the Great built his palace, we could see where the Romans had camped in their siege on the city, and to the west where they built the ramp to finally take her. My gods, what the people of Masada must have thought, watching that ramp get closer and closer. We imagined how they could have thrown stones at them, nearly mocking them as each day they neared their objective of breaching the walls.
A costumed tour guide instructs students on the history of Masada behind a model of what it once looked like

We took lots of photos and explored a good deal of the city, but in reality, we only saw about half of the area on top of the mesa. But we still needed to visit the Dead Sea itself, so we descended via the cable car and went back north to a public beach.

The Dead Sea is somewhat smelly. But as the sun sank lower and filtered down to our low spot on the water line, it was truly beautiful. The water was colder than I was expecting and walking on the rocks, covered by crystallized salt made it difficult for me to get in gracefully. I shrieked at the cold and couldn't find stable footing that didn't hurt my tender feet and I wound up falling in backwards with a splash. Welcome to the Dead Sea! I put my hands out to brace myself and slightly broke the skin on my right hand on one of the rocks. The salt water stung.

The mountains of Jordan at the Dead Sea

I quickly got acclimated to the water temperature and relaxed back, allowing the salty water to hold me aloft. And once in the water, one really need not be told to keep one's head out of it. It just sort of comes naturally, that you don't want to dip your head in this water. You can see the salt in it, almost like an oil sheen.

My neck had been bothering me, so while most everyone else lounged on their back, I was more comfortable in a standing position. But the water easily kept me afloat about chest-high, as if sitting on a floaty noodle toy. The funny thing was that even in knowing there were no fish in the waters, I was leery of the possibility of being bit or stung by something unseen.

There was a gentle current slowly pushing us to the south. The others wanted to get in the mud with its touted health benefits, but for me that would mean either a rough walk back to our things along the rocky coast line, or a long swim back. So I opted out, deciding to return to shore to get a few pictures and enjoy the wonderful sunset.

The salty water on my lips tasted horrible, but seemed to roll off my swim trunks easily, much like water off a duck. I felt slimy and gross and couldn't wait to shower off, which we did in the open showers located nearby. I suddenly realized that my hand, with the broken skin, was no longer sore. Apparently, the therapeutic values of this body of water are real. I also noticed that the scar from my cancer surgery was no longer bothering me. The redness was diminished as well. Miracle waters!

Tom exits the salty waters of the Dead Sea

The distant mountains didn't look clear. It was almost like we were looking through a fine veil of silk. The colors seemed muted and otherworldly as a result of the salt air and the extra filtering of the sun falling on the lowest spot above water on earth. I felt very much a part of this wonderful scenery and was entirely happy to be in that spot at that time.

As we drove home, back up the valley, I was mesmerized by the cliffs and the small caves within their walls, wondering if there were treasures hidden within any of them. After all, they were still discovering antiquities in recent years, such as the Dead Sea Scrolls. We drove back through the occupied territory, had a brief stop at the checkpoint and had another, "These are not the droids you are looking for," moment.

We stopped for dinner in Abu Gosh, an Arab town in the suburbs of Jerusalem, known as the Hummus capital of Israel. This was a good thing. The restaurant wasn't fancy or much to look at (we had to sit inside, since the others thought it was too cold to do otherwise), but the service was unique and the food, as usual, was fantastic. And when we were done, the waiter managed to pile up all 30 or so dirty plates and utensils on his left arm.

It had been a long day. Thank goodness for Ra and his driving abilities. I loved seeing the Israeli countryside, the cliffs with their many caves and Masada was so interesting and historical. And I now better understand the medicinal benefits perceived by soaking in the Dead Sea. But perhaps the best part of our day was after we got home and took a shower!

Leaving Israel

Our last day, for the most part, was clear of any big sight seeing plans. We designated it as the day to wash clothes, run errands, pack and spend time with Ra's family. But in the end, the day proved to be too short.

Rasha getting caught up on the puter

We spent the morning getting caught up with e mail and making phone calls. After noon, we went to the Egyptian tour office in Tel Aviv to buy our tour. It was a long arduous process that seemed to take entirely too much time. And after what seemed like hours, we had our tours set and were on our way, only to find that Ra's car had acquired a parking ticket.

Because our flight to India was so late at night, we wanted to add a tour of Luxor. This meant an overnight train trip there and back. So no hotel room, no showers. Then we found out that our bus from Israel leaves at 11PM, not AM. So we would over-night across the Sinai, arrive in Cairo and immediately start our tours; no hotel, no showers. On our final day of tours, we would leave for the airport at their conclusion; again, no hotel, no showers. At this point I found myself wanting to ditch the plans in favor of flying there and just meeting them in Cairo. But I didn't want to cause waves and seem difficult, so I just went along with the plans. (By the way, do NOT do business with Mazada Tours of Tel Aviv! Trust me on this.)

We had a late lunch with one of our Israeli friends before stopping at Ra's sister's apartment. She was too ill to join us for dinner at the apartment and Ra wanted to see her one last time. We then stopped to pick up his younger sister and headed back home for dinner.

Ra had set the bar really low in regards to his mother's cooking. But quite honestly, I was impressed. The meal wound up occurring, after 9pm but was very tasty. Oded told a funny story to relate his joy in having hosted us over the past 8 days (and Rasha for about 3 weeks). From spending time with them while helping Ra recover from his accident a few years back and the recent wedding, I've come to feel as close to his parents as I would anyone in my own family. I nearly choked up in my response of gratitude.

Fresh in my mind as I tried to fall asleep was the splendor of this country; the great-tasting, albeit expensive, food, the history and the sights of Caesarea, Masada, old town Jerusalem, Jaffa and the Dead Sea. It was a complete trip with still more to do for future visits. I always felt safe, except perhaps when crossing a busy street (pedestrians don't have the right of way). But I love the country and the people. I long to return.
Penguin at the Israeli boarder crossing of Jordan


To view my favorite photos from Israel, click here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/brogott/IsraelFavorites#

There are more photos from the Middle East for your enjoyment. You can find the link to view these at the end of Chapter Four. I didn't think everyone would want to see ALL of them. But if you do want to, feel free!