Magical Storms and Visionaries
Following a welcome respite from the hectic schedule of the trip, and the ever present whip of taskmaster Ira, we shifted from the ancient and timeless city of Jerusalem, to the positively prehistoric environs of the Negev, whose shifting sands and endless dunes were the backdrop of Moses and the Exodus. Arriving at the Bedouin camp where we were staying, I was struck by how the image of the place fit with the reality of the situation. The palm trees swaying in a desert oasis, surrounding by miles of nothingness, drove home the alieness of this place.
The camel ride was a unique and memorable experience, and one I will never forget. With their serpentine necks and otherworldly gurgatations, sitting astride these strange creatures felt like piloting an ancient, forgotten creature from the depths of the desert. Our camel, Joe, was a fairly docile beast, though others were not as lucky with their mounts.
After nightfall, we gathered to experience genuine Bedouin hospitality, which was a magical experience. Sitting with my newfound friends, eating with our hands in the manner since time immemorial, brought me into intimate contact with the land of lore, the land I know my ancestors once trod upon, so many moons ago.
We found out the hard way that when it rains in the desert, it rains. With the lightning arcing across the sky, and the thunder crashing as the winds buffeted the palms trees that made up our tent poles, the experience was biblical, and those sentiments were only reinforced when the power went out, and the tent started to flood. However, like most parts of this trip, even the setbacks were memorable, and the way our group came together to overcome the obstacles placed before us reaffirmed my faith in human nature.
When morning broke, we learned that the road to Masada had been washed away by a flood that hadn’t been seen in five years. Something tells me that if someone was watching over this trip, they have a sense of humor, as the detour allowed us exclusive access to the Dead Sea. As the trip is wrapping up, I feel that old familiar tingle, that sense I will be leaving a place I won’t see again, and though that makes me sad, my heart is buoyed by the friends I have found, and the memories I’ve made halfway around the world.
