An American in Tel Aviv
Twenty-five girls crammed in close quarters; zippers zipping, hair straighteners taking away any semblance of "jew fro," and more black eyeliner flying around than you can imagine. Bringing back war room flashbacks of my two years living in a sorority house, I was shocked at how quickly our group had adapted to a brand-new part of the country in less than 24 hours.
After three days in the Golan, we had arrived in Tel Aviv just that morning to shop, learn, and sample the culture in some much-needed "free time." There was a palpable tension in the air, electricity and frizzy hair crackling with excitement at finally being able to explore a foreign country on our own terms...relatively. As with everything on Birthright, our safety was the first and foremost concern, so we were accompanied by our trusted guards and given a two-hour curfew after which, I assume, our glass slippers would turn back into hiking shoes.
I went off with my two new best-friends-for-life-how-did-we-live-without-each-other-soul-sisters and we met up with two Tel Avivians (it's a word...) that one of us knew from home to take in the nightlife from a local perspective. We decided that the best course of action, based on the short deadline, was to go for speed over agility. We started at a Spanish tapas bar called Cerveza and, though it was crowded, our local companions got us in by saying what came to be the magic word of the night: "Taglit," the Hebrew word for discovery, which is the most common word associated with Birthright Israel trips in Israel. Apparently Americans on Birthright are so exciting to Israelis that simply introducing us would warrant immediate entry, free drinks, and even random hugs from strangers on the street. For the first time in my life, I was exotic. It was all I had ever wanted.
The best part of the night, aside from finding out that Justin Bieber is just as - if not more - popular as it is at bars in the U.S., was seeing that some things are universal. Sparklers came out for a girl celebrating her 30th birthday, everyone complained about how long the bathroom lines were, and a bartenders' friendliness was in direct ratio to her tip. The biggest difference from Chicago, or the U.S. in general, was the obvious feeling of freedom and openness. After spending the day learning about everyone who fought for a free Israeli state, it was thrilling to see that some things do come out how you hope they will. No one shied away from talking, drinking, singing, and celebrating as loudly as they could, as if everyone, not just our group, had to leave the next morning.
When our curfew finally came, we were excited to see that the spell hadn't broken. It had, in fact, transferred to us. Everyone seemed lighter, friendlier, and excited for the next part of our adventure. We may have only spent one day in Tel Aviv, but the beauty and exhilaration of the city was like an exotic perfume that lingers in your hair and on your skin.
