Sassy camels
Today was the day I had been looking forward to most since we were given our trip itineraries. Today was the day we crossed the threshold of surface tourists--those who take the safe and predictable route taken from a $5 travel book. To the wild side, the unforgettable side, the side where you find yourself on the back of the smelliest, most nonchellant yet conversely sassiest creature you've ever encountered. The camel.
After waking up to the roosters morning call (aka-most persistant snooze alarm known to man), I was surrounded by a hoard of barely conscious bodies. They were groaning with zombie-like detachment from yet another sleepless night. But feeling excited about our upcoming morning adventure, I rushed to breakfast. They had a great display of salads, eggs freshly made pita, and Israeli Nutella--it was hard not to go up for seconds. But what really captured me that morning wasn't the chocolate spread (even though it was the first time we had been served chocolate at a meal! It's been rough). It was the view surrounding us from all sides from the open porch dining hall.
The distant mountains looked like they came out of a painting--except better--because they were the real deal. The pale blue sky and brown-orange mountains texturized by the shadows of clouds forced you into a moment of surrealist contemplation--is this real life?? To put it simply--damn I wouldn't mind waking up to that every morning.
I would however prefer not to wake up to the smell that came wafting in our porch every breeze or so. It reminded me exactly of the stinging smell of a horse's stable--with flies following you everywhere. The closer you got to the the camel's pen, the stronger it grew--but strangely, so did my excitement.
When it was our turn to ride the camels, we were lined up in twos and were paired with the nearest camel. Even while they were laying down, I still had to jump to get my leg over its side. Whatever mental preparation I had done to ready myself for the ride was for naught, as the camel lifted its hind legs. I was suddenly in a 45 degree angle with the ground, screaming as if I were in the downward, speeding slope of a roller coaster. Luckily my iron grip on the saddle did me well, and when the camel came to its full standing position, I was still seated. First test passed!
When we were all seated, we began our epic journey into the rocky hills of the Yehouda desert. It was incredible. Though the camels seemed like the strolling type when I saw them from a distance, they were much more the saucey, competitive type. The camel behind ours kept trying to pass us on the rmight, his mouth mere inches away from my leg. But Ol' Bessie, the biggest, most bad*** camel in the pack didn't let us down. But in the process, she almost knocked us off she was moving so swiftly.
Let me just say this: riding a camel is no easy feat--there's the naming stage, the getting to know you stage, then the holding on for dear life stage. It's a lot to handle all at once. But we all looked like pros after the first minute or so. The trail was even more beautiful than the view from breakfast--and seeing it from the back of a camel put me into a state of exuberance. Soon we all started singing old favorites--"Build me up Buttercup," "Eye of the Tiger," etc. The zombies surrounding me this morning were now completely gone.
Riding Ol' Bess will forever remain one of my greatest Birthright memories. It far surpassed every expectation I had and was a bonding moment unlike any other. I think the expression--those who ride camels together, stay friends forever, holds serious merit. Thats how it goes, right?
By Talya Tavor
