Yisrael o yisrael!
Blog post for Wednesday, August 10th. Shorashim, bus 157
Friends, family, and Birthright participants past, present and future; Bocher Tov I‘m writing you today from our mobile base of operations and home-away-from-home - on board Shorashim Bus 157. Beyond our tinted windows and air-conditioned thrones, the sun is shining brightly, unfettered by even a single cloud, and the hills are rolling in every direction as far as the eye can see. I can’t help but feel a kinship with the sprawling shrubbery amongst the ochre-hued soil; defying the oppression of the scorching summer heat to spring forth from its cool, protective enclave and stand tall upon the land that awaits it, just as it has awaited us for the last few months, if not our entire lives. With the high-rises and city lights of Tel Aviv in our rear view window, an eclectic mix of Israeli folk, pop and punk rock blaring from the speaker system, and Jerusalem miles away, this is an excellent time to reflect on day three of our journey, and how far we have come thus far.
Our final night at Afiq, our Kibbutz in the Golan Heights, provided us with our first opportunity to get to know each other beyond the confines of ice-breaking games when the doors to the local “Disco” swung open, inviting us to have a taste of Israeli hospitality - and the local brew. Get the dark beer, never the light. This is what I imagine the Israelis call “drinking responsibly“. For hours we danced the traditional Israeli moves learned only hours earlier, as well as more traditional American styles using leftover energy I’m sure none of us knew we had. This was also the first close encounter we had with another Shorashim group, with whom we confirmed that our guides, companions, and itinerary were superior in every conceivable way.
After a short night’s rest, we boarded our bus once again and bid farewell to the Kibbutz life for the allure of the big city, but not before stopping in a town that time forgot entirely along the way. Jewish mothers reading this with the trip schedule on-hand already know I’m referring to Tzfat. Famed as the home of Jewish mysticism, and the site of a heroic battle during the war for Independence, narrow stone-paved streets and winding alleyways in this city perched upon a mountain top led our group past side-by-side temples of Sephardic and Ashkenazi origin, mirroring our burgeoning realization that although we have come from all over the country, we have far more in common that binds us together than separates us not only from each other, but from Jews around the world. With Kippahs on our heads, and our promiscuous shoulderblades covered to the satisfaction of the city’s denizens, we also enjoyed the local flavors of fresh cheeses, juices, and sandwiches described by one of our guides as “magical”. Nearby, an open market for the wares of jewelers, painters and sculptors allowed us to start the process of overloading our bags with souvenirs for the trip home. Whenever that is.
Onward to Tel Aviv. This long segment of our journey was made far more tolerable by the only form of entertainment available; each other. Impromptu interviews broadcast over the bus’ address system taught us more than we ever wanted to know about some our of fellow travelers, while we shared stories of near-death and near-life experiences.
After arriving at our hotel in Jaffa, an ancient district of Tel Aviv, a quick dinner transitioned into unscheduled downtime, where together we took in the panoramic views of the cityscape from the rooftop terrace. Awesome. A unanimous vote led us on an excursion to a downtown pub that set glasses clinking and laughter cackling late into the night, as we shared toasts from Israel, the United States, and beyond.
Until next time, dear readers.
Love,
Dave
