There are no such things as “throw-away lines” or “filler
text” in the Torah. The traditional perspective is that every word is from
Hashem, and Hashem did not waste any words. This is important to remember when
reviewing parshat Va’eschanan, because one could easily get caught up in the
big items that this parsha holds. Not only are there the words of the Shema,
the ultimate utterance of Jewish faith (Hear O’ Israel, Hashem is our God,
Hashem is one!) and two of the paragraphs that are read with it, but this week’s
parsha contains the second iteration of the Ten Commandments. The less famous
bits, however, are also incredibly significant.
The fourth chapter of Devarim contains Moshe’s dire prediction that Bnei
Yisrael will stray from their relationship with Hashem and will “serve man-made
gods of wood and stone” (4:28), but also that they will once again seek out
Hashem, Who would forgive them and be compassionate to them. It is followed by
a reminder of how unique their experience at Sinai had been, how no other
nation had (or has) ever experienced such events.
Within these verses one can find the essence of Jewish survival, the path of
teshuva (repentance being its most common translation, but more accurately,
return). God never expected perfection, because only God is perfect. Moshe
reminds Bnei Yisrael that if they falter, they are not lost. “But if you search
for Hashem your God, you will find Him, if only you seek Him with all your
heart and soul” (4:29).
Moshe is speaking to the soul of Bnei Yisrael. Many years ago, I heard a Dvar
Torah about the name Yisrael and how it can be translated into “he who wrestles
with God.” This translation resonated with me deeply, perhaps because emunah
has never come easily for me. To really be in a relationship with God requires
work. It requires knowing how to answer those who question faith. It requires
being willing to fight with oneself against one’s personal, physical desires if
they are contrary to the Torah. It requires an active process.
Judaism is a life of questioning, and this week’s parsha contains what very
well might be the oldest line of proof text useable to rabbis trying to prove
that Judaism encourages questioning and searching: “For enquire now concerning
the earliest times which were before you, since the day that God created man
(Adam) upon the earth...” (Devarim 4:32).
Perhaps I was particularly effected by this line because my own journey toward
observance was very much based in looking at the past. The March of the Living
(1992) had a profound effect on me, such that I thought about all of the people
who had come before me and had sacrificed so that I could still be a Jew in the
20th (now 21st) century. Every Jew today reflects generations of striving and
sacrifice. In later days, in times when I wrestled with faith, one of the most
solid proofs in my mind was history. There is no nation that has remained so
steadfast since “the earliest times.” Between wars, persecution, and
assimilationist tendencies, the probability of Jews maintaining their
traditions today is astounding.
This verse is also a reflection of Judaism’s encouragement to acquire knowledge
about... everything. For by learning and exploring, one is bound to strengthen
their faith in God. Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch concludes his comments on this
verse by stating that “to obtain knowledge of nature and history which is open
to our research within these limits [reflecting previous commentary about
limiting study to that which is after Creation] is not only permitted but
something which is eminently desirable to the fullest possible extent, for only
a mind armed with such a wide panoramic view on all matters can draw the right
conclusions of the Jewish position in the world in the whole of its
speciality.”
Friday, July 27, 2018
Friday, July 20, 2018
These Are The Words (Devarim)
Eilu Devarim - These are the
words...starts the first verse of the fifth book of the Torah. Perhaps that is
what I should title this project that I have chosen to create for myself. These
are the words, for I am starting a commitment to myself to write a brief essay
on the weekly parsha. The goal is threefold. I am making a commitment to have a
writing schedule. I am making a commitment to review the parsha each week. I am
making a commitment to find my own voice, to reignite the fire I once had for
delving into sources and sifting through the holy word (after ten years of
writing almost solely as the voice of JewishTreats.org).
Perhaps this is an auspicious week for my journey into unleashing my personal commentary, for it is specifically stated in Devarim that Moshe’s words contain “every detail that God commanded to them (Bnei Yisrael)” (Devarim 1:3). The presentation, now in the first person, presents the four-decade experience of the Israelites from Moshe’s perspective.
And now for some of that more personal commentary....
The parsha of Devarim is always read at the time of Tisha B’Av, when the Jewish people mourn the loss of the Holy Tempe (twice) because the tragic tone of the day was set when the nation cried out in response to the report of the scouts sent to the Land of Canaan. (For a full recount of this event, here’s the Jewish Treat I wrote: http://www.jewishtreats.org/2008/09/forty-years-and-forgiveness.html).
Reading through the narrative of the scouts as retold by Moshe in Devarim, I was particularly struck by the words Moshe states as part of the people’s outcry. “Our brothers have shattered our hopes...” (Devarim 1:28).
What struck me most about this verse was its possible connection to recent stories describing how young Jewish adults travelled across the world to visit Israel on Birthright trips and then left the trips to protest the State of Israel. Let’s not talk about the theft involved (whether that be legitimate or simply the spirit of the law) in their taking a free trip in order to leave and work against the very purpose of the trip. Let’s talk about the distorted vision of these young Jewish adults.
When the Israelite scouts returned from the Promised Land, their first words were: “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey, and this is its fruit. However, the people who inhabit the country are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large...” (Numbers 13:27-28).
HOWEVER. What a terrible, poisonous word and it is a word that seems to capture the current relativism of public opinion about Israel. At the birth of the State of Israel, the Jewish people were rejoicing. Through long, hard years - interspersed with tragic, bloody wars - the Jewish people built a successful, vibrant, diverse Democracy in a land once desolate and corrupt (Ottoman era). And instead of saying that we have been blessed with a land flowing with milk and honey, a new voice has emerged decrying the fact that we are no longer the underdogs in the story. We were no longer weak, and somehow that is bad.
As the volume of the outrage against Israel grows louder, particularly from our own people, one can only wonder at how similar this is to the story of the scouts. Joshua and Caleb were the minority voices trying to remind the people of the promises made to them by God and of the magnificence of the Promised Land. Their voices were drowned out by the fear, the self-doubt, the lack of faith of the rest of the nation.
We today need to remember that God’s promises still hold true. That we are still a unique nation. And we need to stay strong when the cries of our people are overwhelming. Remember the words, “Good is the land that Hashem our God is giving us” (Devarim 1:25).
Perhaps this is an auspicious week for my journey into unleashing my personal commentary, for it is specifically stated in Devarim that Moshe’s words contain “every detail that God commanded to them (Bnei Yisrael)” (Devarim 1:3). The presentation, now in the first person, presents the four-decade experience of the Israelites from Moshe’s perspective.
And now for some of that more personal commentary....
The parsha of Devarim is always read at the time of Tisha B’Av, when the Jewish people mourn the loss of the Holy Tempe (twice) because the tragic tone of the day was set when the nation cried out in response to the report of the scouts sent to the Land of Canaan. (For a full recount of this event, here’s the Jewish Treat I wrote: http://www.jewishtreats.org/2008/09/forty-years-and-forgiveness.html).
Reading through the narrative of the scouts as retold by Moshe in Devarim, I was particularly struck by the words Moshe states as part of the people’s outcry. “Our brothers have shattered our hopes...” (Devarim 1:28).
What struck me most about this verse was its possible connection to recent stories describing how young Jewish adults travelled across the world to visit Israel on Birthright trips and then left the trips to protest the State of Israel. Let’s not talk about the theft involved (whether that be legitimate or simply the spirit of the law) in their taking a free trip in order to leave and work against the very purpose of the trip. Let’s talk about the distorted vision of these young Jewish adults.
When the Israelite scouts returned from the Promised Land, their first words were: “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey, and this is its fruit. However, the people who inhabit the country are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large...” (Numbers 13:27-28).
HOWEVER. What a terrible, poisonous word and it is a word that seems to capture the current relativism of public opinion about Israel. At the birth of the State of Israel, the Jewish people were rejoicing. Through long, hard years - interspersed with tragic, bloody wars - the Jewish people built a successful, vibrant, diverse Democracy in a land once desolate and corrupt (Ottoman era). And instead of saying that we have been blessed with a land flowing with milk and honey, a new voice has emerged decrying the fact that we are no longer the underdogs in the story. We were no longer weak, and somehow that is bad.
As the volume of the outrage against Israel grows louder, particularly from our own people, one can only wonder at how similar this is to the story of the scouts. Joshua and Caleb were the minority voices trying to remind the people of the promises made to them by God and of the magnificence of the Promised Land. Their voices were drowned out by the fear, the self-doubt, the lack of faith of the rest of the nation.
We today need to remember that God’s promises still hold true. That we are still a unique nation. And we need to stay strong when the cries of our people are overwhelming. Remember the words, “Good is the land that Hashem our God is giving us” (Devarim 1:25).
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Israel: The First Two Days
Wednesday June 21 - Thursday June 22
Today is marked with a double date because, indeed, we felt as if the two days were all one. Our flight on Transat left Montreal at 2 in the afternoon, which meant that none of the kids were tired even though I had tried to keep them awake the night before.
Other then the fact that on Wednesday morning we discovered that Asher had Hand-Foot-Mouth and was difficult throughout the flight, the trip was uneventful. We landed around 7:30 am Israel time and then waited for Grandma, who finally came out of customs around 11:15.
Somewhat tired, but not wanting to either lose a day or perpetuate jet lag, we made our way to Tel Aviv with the intention of going first to the beach and then to Jaffa port. Realizing that we were closer to Jaffa, we went there first. Winding our way through crazy, narrow streets, we found the port. After admiring the glorious waves dashing against the port, we started walking in the old port area and fulfilled my silly desire of finding “the whale.” There is a whale statue at the edge of the artist colony that now inhabits ancient Jaffa. I have a picture of me and the whale from when I was 11 (family trip) and when I came at 16, so I wanted another.
We then wandered through the old port area. It was beautiful, but people were getting tired and grumpy, so we moved on to a beach at Tel Aviv, the first one we came to. I hung out with Avi, who felt it was not ok for him to go to a mixed beach. David, my mom and the kids had a great time.
David and I had booked a hotel for the first night very last minute. It was called the Ophir Hotel, located in Dizengoff Center. Getting there should have been simple, but I kept falling asleep while giving David directions. In the process, we found ourselves on some incredibly narrow streets. One such street ended at a dead-end, and David had to reverse our 9 seater van. It was quite harrowing.
How to describe the Ophir Hotel. I told the kids that it is a place that builds character...meaning that it will help them build a character in a story. Squeezed between 2 other buildings was a small, wooden staircase and an almost hidden black awning. The reception area stank of smoke and was tiny. The rooms, one on the second floor and one on the third, were bizarrely set up. Each room was unique and it seemed to me that this was all salvaged furniture. In our room, one wall had black and white striped wallpaper, while along the other wall was a giant white wooden bed with an enormous headboard. In the second floor room, where mom stayed with the girls, they told me there was a jet tub, but it was way too scary to go near. The rooms felt dirty, but I think it was shabby more than dirty.
We went to a beautiful café for dinner and got pizza for all. We also got awesome home fries and Cajun fries. Returning to the Ophir, we discovered that the air conditioning in the room was raining onto the floor, so David, Avi, Yaakov, Asher and I had a very sweaty night. At 3:30 in the morning, David and Avi went out to get cold drinks. They left some outside the girls"' room too, but the ladies never saw them...guess someone else at the hotel was thirsty.
Friday, June 23
We got the day started nice and early(ish) and ate cereal and milk at the Tel Aviv beach. Bye Bye Ophir, it’s been...strange.
We decided to head south. My mom and I both had strong memories of the Kibbutz Yad Mordechai Memorial. We convinced everyone to go because we saw that their was a honey museum there. Alas, after an hour plus drive, we discovered that the honey museum was closed. In fact, the sign implied that it is ONLY open on Shabbat and holidays! However, we did find a kibbutz member doing an exhibition of his photographs of women of the kibbutz dressed up like women they admired. We also made our way to the Yad Mordechai War Memorial. Again, my mom and I had a strong memory of this. Thirty years ago, we believe, as the tour guide showed you the site of the battle, at strategic moments silhouettes of the soldiers popped up in the fields. It was really thought provoking. Seems that now the silhouettes are always there, which was just less interesting. However, we were able to walk through the trenches and get a feel for what it would have been like to have been there.
Trying to salvage the day, we headed north to Ashkelon. We stopped at a small mini-market and picked up pitas and hummus and cucumbers and cheese to eat at the National Park. The oceanside park is both a recreational area/camping ground and a site of numerous antiquities from many different eras. We passed a Canaanite gate coming it and later saw Roman columns. We found a large parking area and started our picnic but slowly found ourselves surrounded by large crow-like birds. It was a bit creepy. We walked over to an ancient Canaanite well and then hiked up a hill to see if we could find the places my mother and I remember. After a long, hot walk up, the kids were getting very irritable and all we found was one Canaanite relic. David volunteered to get the car and meet us at the campground up top, which definitely seemed to have a parking lot.
What we didn’t know then was that the road up to the parking lot had a bar across it that had to be opened by the guy standing there, but David drove right past it. We waited and waited until finally heading to a snack bar and getting ice cream. I knew what had gone wrong, but since both David and I had new sim cards for Israel, I didn’t know his phone number. Eventually, he called me and we met up, but it was rather stressful for him. He decided that we all needed a fun break and to go to the beach, which was right next to the parking lot. I was on the phone with the tour guide we had hired so I wasn’t at the water. The kids had fun...until the jellyfish came. Everyone got a few stings, but Yaakov seemed the most hurt - poor guy.
It was now time to head to Yad Binyamin, where we were going to spend Shabbas with a bunch of different friends.
Today is marked with a double date because, indeed, we felt as if the two days were all one. Our flight on Transat left Montreal at 2 in the afternoon, which meant that none of the kids were tired even though I had tried to keep them awake the night before.
Other then the fact that on Wednesday morning we discovered that Asher had Hand-Foot-Mouth and was difficult throughout the flight, the trip was uneventful. We landed around 7:30 am Israel time and then waited for Grandma, who finally came out of customs around 11:15.
Somewhat tired, but not wanting to either lose a day or perpetuate jet lag, we made our way to Tel Aviv with the intention of going first to the beach and then to Jaffa port. Realizing that we were closer to Jaffa, we went there first. Winding our way through crazy, narrow streets, we found the port. After admiring the glorious waves dashing against the port, we started walking in the old port area and fulfilled my silly desire of finding “the whale.” There is a whale statue at the edge of the artist colony that now inhabits ancient Jaffa. I have a picture of me and the whale from when I was 11 (family trip) and when I came at 16, so I wanted another.
We then wandered through the old port area. It was beautiful, but people were getting tired and grumpy, so we moved on to a beach at Tel Aviv, the first one we came to. I hung out with Avi, who felt it was not ok for him to go to a mixed beach. David, my mom and the kids had a great time.
David and I had booked a hotel for the first night very last minute. It was called the Ophir Hotel, located in Dizengoff Center. Getting there should have been simple, but I kept falling asleep while giving David directions. In the process, we found ourselves on some incredibly narrow streets. One such street ended at a dead-end, and David had to reverse our 9 seater van. It was quite harrowing.
How to describe the Ophir Hotel. I told the kids that it is a place that builds character...meaning that it will help them build a character in a story. Squeezed between 2 other buildings was a small, wooden staircase and an almost hidden black awning. The reception area stank of smoke and was tiny. The rooms, one on the second floor and one on the third, were bizarrely set up. Each room was unique and it seemed to me that this was all salvaged furniture. In our room, one wall had black and white striped wallpaper, while along the other wall was a giant white wooden bed with an enormous headboard. In the second floor room, where mom stayed with the girls, they told me there was a jet tub, but it was way too scary to go near. The rooms felt dirty, but I think it was shabby more than dirty.
We went to a beautiful café for dinner and got pizza for all. We also got awesome home fries and Cajun fries. Returning to the Ophir, we discovered that the air conditioning in the room was raining onto the floor, so David, Avi, Yaakov, Asher and I had a very sweaty night. At 3:30 in the morning, David and Avi went out to get cold drinks. They left some outside the girls"' room too, but the ladies never saw them...guess someone else at the hotel was thirsty.
Friday, June 23
We got the day started nice and early(ish) and ate cereal and milk at the Tel Aviv beach. Bye Bye Ophir, it’s been...strange.
We decided to head south. My mom and I both had strong memories of the Kibbutz Yad Mordechai Memorial. We convinced everyone to go because we saw that their was a honey museum there. Alas, after an hour plus drive, we discovered that the honey museum was closed. In fact, the sign implied that it is ONLY open on Shabbat and holidays! However, we did find a kibbutz member doing an exhibition of his photographs of women of the kibbutz dressed up like women they admired. We also made our way to the Yad Mordechai War Memorial. Again, my mom and I had a strong memory of this. Thirty years ago, we believe, as the tour guide showed you the site of the battle, at strategic moments silhouettes of the soldiers popped up in the fields. It was really thought provoking. Seems that now the silhouettes are always there, which was just less interesting. However, we were able to walk through the trenches and get a feel for what it would have been like to have been there.
Trying to salvage the day, we headed north to Ashkelon. We stopped at a small mini-market and picked up pitas and hummus and cucumbers and cheese to eat at the National Park. The oceanside park is both a recreational area/camping ground and a site of numerous antiquities from many different eras. We passed a Canaanite gate coming it and later saw Roman columns. We found a large parking area and started our picnic but slowly found ourselves surrounded by large crow-like birds. It was a bit creepy. We walked over to an ancient Canaanite well and then hiked up a hill to see if we could find the places my mother and I remember. After a long, hot walk up, the kids were getting very irritable and all we found was one Canaanite relic. David volunteered to get the car and meet us at the campground up top, which definitely seemed to have a parking lot.
What we didn’t know then was that the road up to the parking lot had a bar across it that had to be opened by the guy standing there, but David drove right past it. We waited and waited until finally heading to a snack bar and getting ice cream. I knew what had gone wrong, but since both David and I had new sim cards for Israel, I didn’t know his phone number. Eventually, he called me and we met up, but it was rather stressful for him. He decided that we all needed a fun break and to go to the beach, which was right next to the parking lot. I was on the phone with the tour guide we had hired so I wasn’t at the water. The kids had fun...until the jellyfish came. Everyone got a few stings, but Yaakov seemed the most hurt - poor guy.
It was now time to head to Yad Binyamin, where we were going to spend Shabbas with a bunch of different friends.
Northern Tour, Day 1
We left Yad Binyamin early on Sunday morning to begin our first day of touring with a tour guide, and, once again, we got a little lost. Waze is a great App, but my phone was slow to match where we were so there were these tiny delays and then we would have already missed the next turn. The highway never had a sign for the road we needed and we added a half an hour before we turned around, but it worked out. We picked up our tour guide on the outskirts of Jerusalem and headed around the city toward Jericho. (Toward, not to,)
Let me now introduce our tour guide, who will feature in several segments of the journal. Gershon Portnoy is an experienced Israel tour guide who lives in Elon Moreh, which is a settlement in the Samaria region of Israel. An American who came to Israel in the early 1970s, he is, what a North American might call, “hard core.” Passionate about Israel and the need for Jews to reside in ownership of our land, he added a fascinating aspect to our tour.
Our first stop was Nachal Kibbutzim, but the drive up there was filled with descriptions of things we were seeing: the names of settlements, historical stories and insights into the land and agriculture. Nachal Kibbutzim is a water hike in the Beit She’an Valley, directly in view of the Gilboa Mountains (for those into Biblical history, Mount Gilboa is where King Saul and his son Jonathan were slain by the Philistines). After another lunch of pita, hummas and cucumbers (and some yogurts for those who protested), we were ready for the hike.
Gershon had warned us to bring swimming gear (and he had an floaty-tube for Asher) and that we would be walking through water, but this was more of a swim than a hike. You entered the water that is part of a natural stream system and begin walking, but the water quickly increased so that the kids had to swim most of it. Luckily we had also purchased Yaakov a raft (although it kind of deflated)! In the intense heat of the Beit She’an Valley (and there was a heat wave on in the already hot area), this was actually delightful. At the end of the hike was a water pipe that one could go through, but the intense narrowing of the flow of water at a steep pitch created a strong suction. It was fun but scary. This was the end of the swim, and then we walked back to the car.
Our next stop sounded sort of unexciting to me, but it was actually really awesome! Dvorat HaTavor, a honey bee and silk worm farm at Moshav Shadmot Devorah. We walked in and an older gentleman was standing at the gate. He lazily nodded his head to us as we entered, and I figured he was one of the general workers of the kibbutz. The kibbutz area we were in had a pen of a whole bunch of animals: chickens, geese and peacocks (one of which displayed his grandeur for us), as well as goats. The kids enjoyed that. Gershon told us they were ready to begin and we headed inside for what I thought was going to be a video presentation. Nope. The guy who had been hanging outside, Yigal, was at the front and he gave a dynamic, fun, informative and interactive explanation of bees and honey. You would never have guessed. Then he showed us a video of a news story about his son, Boaz, who had participated in an international contest of people who “wear bees as beards.” After the presentation, we were given a taste of some delightful fresh honey (which was quite sticky). Outside, Yigal gave us an explanation of how the bee boxes work and why smoke is used to calm the bees. He then guided us into a protected area where we watched him open a bee box. The final part of the tour was an explanation of the life cycle of the silk worm, which the kibbutz also raises. Then there was a nice little arts and crafts project for the kids painting butterflies, rolling bee’s wax candle and enjoying some chocolate and honey. Overall, it was a really cool experience.
By now it was almost 7 pm, and we were ready to find our night's accommodations. Using Airbnb, we had booked ourselves for the next few nights at the Yavneel Bed and Breakfast. This being our first Airbnb experience, I was pretty nervous about what we would find, but the location was AWESOME. Nili and Arnie Abrahams have a gorgeous wooden home (rare in Israel) located on a nice plot of land and surrounded by a desert garden. They use the upstairs as the B and B. The Abrahams had also made arrangements for Gershon, and it turned out that I knew the people who owned the “zimmer” (guest room). It was owned by the Veffers, who used to live in Har Nof Jerusalem, on the same floor that I lived on when I was at Midreshset Rachel. Going back further than that, I believe that I went to them for a Shabbas when I was at Hebrew University!
Satisfied with an awesome day, everyone fell asleep very quickly.
 |
| Cool dust funnel we saw on the road. |
Our first stop was Nachal Kibbutzim, but the drive up there was filled with descriptions of things we were seeing: the names of settlements, historical stories and insights into the land and agriculture. Nachal Kibbutzim is a water hike in the Beit She’an Valley, directly in view of the Gilboa Mountains (for those into Biblical history, Mount Gilboa is where King Saul and his son Jonathan were slain by the Philistines). After another lunch of pita, hummas and cucumbers (and some yogurts for those who protested), we were ready for the hike.
Gershon had warned us to bring swimming gear (and he had an floaty-tube for Asher) and that we would be walking through water, but this was more of a swim than a hike. You entered the water that is part of a natural stream system and begin walking, but the water quickly increased so that the kids had to swim most of it. Luckily we had also purchased Yaakov a raft (although it kind of deflated)! In the intense heat of the Beit She’an Valley (and there was a heat wave on in the already hot area), this was actually delightful. At the end of the hike was a water pipe that one could go through, but the intense narrowing of the flow of water at a steep pitch created a strong suction. It was fun but scary. This was the end of the swim, and then we walked back to the car.
Our next stop sounded sort of unexciting to me, but it was actually really awesome! Dvorat HaTavor, a honey bee and silk worm farm at Moshav Shadmot Devorah. We walked in and an older gentleman was standing at the gate. He lazily nodded his head to us as we entered, and I figured he was one of the general workers of the kibbutz. The kibbutz area we were in had a pen of a whole bunch of animals: chickens, geese and peacocks (one of which displayed his grandeur for us), as well as goats. The kids enjoyed that. Gershon told us they were ready to begin and we headed inside for what I thought was going to be a video presentation. Nope. The guy who had been hanging outside, Yigal, was at the front and he gave a dynamic, fun, informative and interactive explanation of bees and honey. You would never have guessed. Then he showed us a video of a news story about his son, Boaz, who had participated in an international contest of people who “wear bees as beards.” After the presentation, we were given a taste of some delightful fresh honey (which was quite sticky). Outside, Yigal gave us an explanation of how the bee boxes work and why smoke is used to calm the bees. He then guided us into a protected area where we watched him open a bee box. The final part of the tour was an explanation of the life cycle of the silk worm, which the kibbutz also raises. Then there was a nice little arts and crafts project for the kids painting butterflies, rolling bee’s wax candle and enjoying some chocolate and honey. Overall, it was a really cool experience.
By now it was almost 7 pm, and we were ready to find our night's accommodations. Using Airbnb, we had booked ourselves for the next few nights at the Yavneel Bed and Breakfast. This being our first Airbnb experience, I was pretty nervous about what we would find, but the location was AWESOME. Nili and Arnie Abrahams have a gorgeous wooden home (rare in Israel) located on a nice plot of land and surrounded by a desert garden. They use the upstairs as the B and B. The Abrahams had also made arrangements for Gershon, and it turned out that I knew the people who owned the “zimmer” (guest room). It was owned by the Veffers, who used to live in Har Nof Jerusalem, on the same floor that I lived on when I was at Midreshset Rachel. Going back further than that, I believe that I went to them for a Shabbas when I was at Hebrew University!
Satisfied with an awesome day, everyone fell asleep very quickly.
To The Golan
Imagine waking up on a day of crisp sunshine to the sounds and smells of a kitchen busy with preparations. Then imagine going down to a spread of cereal, milk (and chocolate milk), yogurts, eggs, fresh baguettes, spreads, cucumbers and peppers, coffee and more...I think the Yavne’el Bed and Breakfast should only be properly written as BREAKFAST. It was an amazing morning feast and a delightful way to start our day.
Gershon had a rather full itinerary planned out for us, and we did not make it to everything on it. The day started with a hike. I say that casually, but anyone who has every been north in Israel knows that the idea of a hike in North America is very different than a hike in Israel. Our hike was at a place called Yehudia. We parked in the already hot lot and headed under an overpass, noting the scrabbly, rocky terrain around us. As we moved forward we passed a collection of small ruins, an old Syrian village built on the ruins of an ancient Jewish town dating back, perhaps, to the Romans. We were headed straight toward an enormous gorge but then turned so that the valley between two mountains was maintained on our right. Once again, Gershon had told us to bring swimming things (but wear hiking shoes), and we were quite shocked/dismayed/concerned when we asked where the water was and he pointed ahead and down. Um, okay. Asher was in the backpack on David’s back. Gershon kept reassuring us that this was no big deal, but my mother is no lover of heights. We reached the first “descent,” which really wasn’t anything, but the rock stairs were worn away and there was a steep edge to the side. Just as she was reassuring her grandmother and offering her hand in assistance, Elisheva was the first to slip, banging her knee and making us all hesitant. We reminded the kids to stay away from the edge and move slowly. After telling everyone that this was all good, I took a step forward...and skidded on loose gravel. Wham. I had quite a rock-burn bruise! Embarrassed, and aching, I assured everyone that I was definitely up to going forward, and I gave my mom my hand to help her down the small steps. This brought us to a somewhat narrow path that continued downward until we reached a resting spot under a large tree (plants growing larger as we made our way down). And here my mother decided that she would wait. It was, in fact, a good call, because we continued forward down a series of stone “staircases,” many slippery with gravel. David was awesome in lending me a hand as I was nervous on these treacherous steps. It was a hot, long hike down...but it was incredible at the bottom.
Our hike paid off with a delightful waterfall swimming hole. David and Yaakov were the first ones in (after Gershon). The other kids were hesitant, but I dunked in to acclimate to the cold and followed David out to the waterfall. It was spectacular. Eventually, all of the kids came to the waterfall (except Asher, who bobbed around in his floaty-tube in the shallow area. Swimming, however, was followed by the need to return back up.
I cannot lie. I was worried that I would pass out on the way up. It had been so hard coming down, steep and scary and hot. We were all shocked to discover that it actually wasn’t such along way down! We made it back to the car and to ice cream.
Our next adventure was just around the corner and started at a kibbutz - but they all seem to do that. Here we met Ronnie, an olive farmer who has won awards for his olive oils but who also gives fun jeep tours of the area. The ride was...bumpy. Everyone loved it, especially Asher who was astounded when he later discovered we were in some kind of a truck. In addition to just enjoying the bumpy roads, we got to see the orchards where they were growing plums and peaches (we tried to find some ripe peaches, but only found some almost ripe ones that the kids tried) and Ronnie’s olive trees. Since we were in the Golan, we were very close to the border of Syria. I mean VERY close. There were fences leading into the no-man's land area. It being very hot, we went around to the side of the kibbutz and Ronnie took us to a spring watering reservoir. After a short (really short, just steep) hike to the squared off cistern, we found out that we were not the first ones there. A small gang of soldiers, experts in guiding artillery, were enjoying the cool water. One of them was British, a lone soldier for whom we gave a hearty round of applause. We had a nice time bantering with the guys, one of whom kept joking that he too was a lone soldier from Con-nec-ticut, he would tell us in a heavy Israeli accent. Ronnie brought some refreshing cantaloupe and we shared it with the IDF soldiers before bouncing along the road back to our starting point.
Our initial plan had been to go next to Metulla but Gershon took us first to a small, almost indistinct memorial from the 1973 Yom Kippur War. It is called Tel El-Saki. From the top, one supposedly has an excellent view to understand the Golan Heights and the Israeli position with its neighbors, but a group of soldiers were training at the top and we couldn't go up. Being tourists...and tourists with boys...we took pictures with a soldier and his fully loaded jeep. The soldiers gave us some left over cake.
The story of Tel El-Saki. The Syrians began the Yom Kippur War with a serious offensive, quickly overrunning many Israeli positions in the Golan Heights with tanks and air strikes. There were 5 paratroops who had made it to the small outpost of Tel Saki, a strategic position that the Israel Defense Force fought to stop the Syrians from taking. A few of the wounded soldiers from the tank division managed to get to them. The soldiers were still in communication with the Israeli command and could not evacuate as they were providing valuable information. The Israelis at Tel Saki tried to stop the Syrian approach, but they were vastly out-manned and ended up surrounded. The soldiers fought back, switching positions frequently to give the appearance of larger numbers. The Israelis were trapped in the solitary bunker under constant fire. The first rescue mission was a failure and almost all of the troops involved were killed. A second rescue operation had slightly more success, and several survived and managed to crawl into the Tel Saki bunker. The bunker was under siege. The soldiers inside were busy destroying all valuable information and preparing their goodbyes. At the request of the commander, Menachem Ansbacher, one soldier, a volunteer named Yitzchak Nekerger, emerged from the bunker and surrendered, claiming that he was the sole survivor of the battle. The rest of the soldiers played dead and, amazingly, the Syrians believed him. Nekerger sacrificed his freedom to save his comrades and was taken as a POW to Damascus. For hours and hours, the surviving soldiers remained still and quiet lest the Syrians realized their ruse. Finally, a few of the soldiers snuck out to a destroyed IDF tank and contacted the IDF. Although they are surrounded by Syrians, the IDF managed to get them food and water. The area commander couldn’t imagine anyone was still alive and he organized a unit to get to Tel Saki and try to collect the dead. The outpost was still overrun by Syrians. Finally they drove the Syrians off and to their shock they discovered the survivors - 30 hours after they were presumed dead.
I thought Tel Saki was pretty awesome but it was also fairly obvious that we were losing the kids’ attention. Gershon had a few more ideas of places to go but we only went to one more, Ben-Tal, a mountain in the Golan that offers a tremendous overlook of the region, including well into Syria. It is, not surprisingly, the site of an old army outpost. Ben-Tal is twinned with another slightly higher mountain, Av-Tal (Av meaning father, ben meaning son) which form the mouth of a now dormant volcano. As we approached, we heard a strange boom and Gershon said it could be training exercises. It was later confirmed for us that it was not training exercises, it was Syria! (Yes, Gramie, there’s a reason we didn’t mention this!). When we pulled up to the parking lot, where there was a good view, Asher was asleep and most of the kids didn’t even want to get out of the car. There was a small but somewhat steep path up to the top, and my mom volunteered to stay with the kids in the car. The only child who came along was Shevi. At the top the view was incredible. Also there was a strange assortment of metal sculptures by a Dutch sculptor named Joop de Jong and the Coffee Anan café. It seems the UN comes up here frequently (there compound, not too far away, can be seen from the top) and the name of the café might be a “tribute” to its former head.
Well, the kids were certainly not up for any more touring. But we did have one more long-awaited and much anticipated stop to get to in Tiberias. Kosher McDonalds. It was quite an experience. Yaakov and Asher got kid’s meals, which made me smile. There was a small play area, which was great because David, Avi and Gershon had to go to Mincha (afternoon service) and we waited there for a while. The meal was thoroughly “eh,” but the kids enjoyed it.
Gershon had a rather full itinerary planned out for us, and we did not make it to everything on it. The day started with a hike. I say that casually, but anyone who has every been north in Israel knows that the idea of a hike in North America is very different than a hike in Israel. Our hike was at a place called Yehudia. We parked in the already hot lot and headed under an overpass, noting the scrabbly, rocky terrain around us. As we moved forward we passed a collection of small ruins, an old Syrian village built on the ruins of an ancient Jewish town dating back, perhaps, to the Romans. We were headed straight toward an enormous gorge but then turned so that the valley between two mountains was maintained on our right. Once again, Gershon had told us to bring swimming things (but wear hiking shoes), and we were quite shocked/dismayed/concerned when we asked where the water was and he pointed ahead and down. Um, okay. Asher was in the backpack on David’s back. Gershon kept reassuring us that this was no big deal, but my mother is no lover of heights. We reached the first “descent,” which really wasn’t anything, but the rock stairs were worn away and there was a steep edge to the side. Just as she was reassuring her grandmother and offering her hand in assistance, Elisheva was the first to slip, banging her knee and making us all hesitant. We reminded the kids to stay away from the edge and move slowly. After telling everyone that this was all good, I took a step forward...and skidded on loose gravel. Wham. I had quite a rock-burn bruise! Embarrassed, and aching, I assured everyone that I was definitely up to going forward, and I gave my mom my hand to help her down the small steps. This brought us to a somewhat narrow path that continued downward until we reached a resting spot under a large tree (plants growing larger as we made our way down). And here my mother decided that she would wait. It was, in fact, a good call, because we continued forward down a series of stone “staircases,” many slippery with gravel. David was awesome in lending me a hand as I was nervous on these treacherous steps. It was a hot, long hike down...but it was incredible at the bottom.
Our hike paid off with a delightful waterfall swimming hole. David and Yaakov were the first ones in (after Gershon). The other kids were hesitant, but I dunked in to acclimate to the cold and followed David out to the waterfall. It was spectacular. Eventually, all of the kids came to the waterfall (except Asher, who bobbed around in his floaty-tube in the shallow area. Swimming, however, was followed by the need to return back up.
 |
This is not our picture. I took it from a random image search
cause it give the best visual of the bottom of the hike.
|
I cannot lie. I was worried that I would pass out on the way up. It had been so hard coming down, steep and scary and hot. We were all shocked to discover that it actually wasn’t such along way down! We made it back to the car and to ice cream.
Our next adventure was just around the corner and started at a kibbutz - but they all seem to do that. Here we met Ronnie, an olive farmer who has won awards for his olive oils but who also gives fun jeep tours of the area. The ride was...bumpy. Everyone loved it, especially Asher who was astounded when he later discovered we were in some kind of a truck. In addition to just enjoying the bumpy roads, we got to see the orchards where they were growing plums and peaches (we tried to find some ripe peaches, but only found some almost ripe ones that the kids tried) and Ronnie’s olive trees. Since we were in the Golan, we were very close to the border of Syria. I mean VERY close. There were fences leading into the no-man's land area. It being very hot, we went around to the side of the kibbutz and Ronnie took us to a spring watering reservoir. After a short (really short, just steep) hike to the squared off cistern, we found out that we were not the first ones there. A small gang of soldiers, experts in guiding artillery, were enjoying the cool water. One of them was British, a lone soldier for whom we gave a hearty round of applause. We had a nice time bantering with the guys, one of whom kept joking that he too was a lone soldier from Con-nec-ticut, he would tell us in a heavy Israeli accent. Ronnie brought some refreshing cantaloupe and we shared it with the IDF soldiers before bouncing along the road back to our starting point.
Our initial plan had been to go next to Metulla but Gershon took us first to a small, almost indistinct memorial from the 1973 Yom Kippur War. It is called Tel El-Saki. From the top, one supposedly has an excellent view to understand the Golan Heights and the Israeli position with its neighbors, but a group of soldiers were training at the top and we couldn't go up. Being tourists...and tourists with boys...we took pictures with a soldier and his fully loaded jeep. The soldiers gave us some left over cake.
The story of Tel El-Saki. The Syrians began the Yom Kippur War with a serious offensive, quickly overrunning many Israeli positions in the Golan Heights with tanks and air strikes. There were 5 paratroops who had made it to the small outpost of Tel Saki, a strategic position that the Israel Defense Force fought to stop the Syrians from taking. A few of the wounded soldiers from the tank division managed to get to them. The soldiers were still in communication with the Israeli command and could not evacuate as they were providing valuable information. The Israelis at Tel Saki tried to stop the Syrian approach, but they were vastly out-manned and ended up surrounded. The soldiers fought back, switching positions frequently to give the appearance of larger numbers. The Israelis were trapped in the solitary bunker under constant fire. The first rescue mission was a failure and almost all of the troops involved were killed. A second rescue operation had slightly more success, and several survived and managed to crawl into the Tel Saki bunker. The bunker was under siege. The soldiers inside were busy destroying all valuable information and preparing their goodbyes. At the request of the commander, Menachem Ansbacher, one soldier, a volunteer named Yitzchak Nekerger, emerged from the bunker and surrendered, claiming that he was the sole survivor of the battle. The rest of the soldiers played dead and, amazingly, the Syrians believed him. Nekerger sacrificed his freedom to save his comrades and was taken as a POW to Damascus. For hours and hours, the surviving soldiers remained still and quiet lest the Syrians realized their ruse. Finally, a few of the soldiers snuck out to a destroyed IDF tank and contacted the IDF. Although they are surrounded by Syrians, the IDF managed to get them food and water. The area commander couldn’t imagine anyone was still alive and he organized a unit to get to Tel Saki and try to collect the dead. The outpost was still overrun by Syrians. Finally they drove the Syrians off and to their shock they discovered the survivors - 30 hours after they were presumed dead.
I thought Tel Saki was pretty awesome but it was also fairly obvious that we were losing the kids’ attention. Gershon had a few more ideas of places to go but we only went to one more, Ben-Tal, a mountain in the Golan that offers a tremendous overlook of the region, including well into Syria. It is, not surprisingly, the site of an old army outpost. Ben-Tal is twinned with another slightly higher mountain, Av-Tal (Av meaning father, ben meaning son) which form the mouth of a now dormant volcano. As we approached, we heard a strange boom and Gershon said it could be training exercises. It was later confirmed for us that it was not training exercises, it was Syria! (Yes, Gramie, there’s a reason we didn’t mention this!). When we pulled up to the parking lot, where there was a good view, Asher was asleep and most of the kids didn’t even want to get out of the car. There was a small but somewhat steep path up to the top, and my mom volunteered to stay with the kids in the car. The only child who came along was Shevi. At the top the view was incredible. Also there was a strange assortment of metal sculptures by a Dutch sculptor named Joop de Jong and the Coffee Anan café. It seems the UN comes up here frequently (there compound, not too far away, can be seen from the top) and the name of the café might be a “tribute” to its former head.
Well, the kids were certainly not up for any more touring. But we did have one more long-awaited and much anticipated stop to get to in Tiberias. Kosher McDonalds. It was quite an experience. Yaakov and Asher got kid’s meals, which made me smile. There was a small play area, which was great because David, Avi and Gershon had to go to Mincha (afternoon service) and we waited there for a while. The meal was thoroughly “eh,” but the kids enjoyed it.
A Morning of Water, and Afternoon of Art
From the Banyas to Tzefat.
The start off of this day must be stated with two words...FRENCH TOAST. Who could imagine that breakfast could get even better!! (Yup, it’s a running theme!)
We started our third day with Gershon ready to get wet. Our first stop: Banana Boating in the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). It was barely 9 in the morning and already the day was warm and the water was gorgeous. My mom and Gershon took Asher on the speed boat, and the rest of us climbed aboard a banana boat built for eight. We loop-d-looped and jumped the waves and thought this was the ultimate fun, but we were wrong. We headed back into the docks and switched onto a giant round raft with a back wall. We each took our position and grabbed onto the hand grips on the seat. Off we flew. Okay, my perspective was a little different then the rest of the family’s because I seemed to be incapable of maintaining my seat. I kept bouncing around and losing my hand grips and laughing so hard I thought I might gag. It was AWESOME!!!!
Still grinning, we got back into the van and headed back toward the Golan where Gershon had it planned that we would do one of the area’s most famous hikes, the Banyas. Certain young people saw the parking lot, saw the hot terrain and got kinda prickly. After the Nahal Yehudia yesterday, they were not interested in lots of stairs or exertion. Hahahah. So there were lots of stairs and it was a bit of work getting down, but wow. The Banayas is an incredible waterfall in a crevice between mountains. It’s a fast flowing stream with gorgeous foliage all around. To stop people from hiking through the stream, the Israeli government built a beautiful sidewalk platform. By the time we really got into it, the bad moods had evaporated. Oh, and the walk back to the car was much less then the walk down to the beginning had been.
We were, as usual, running a bit behind. It was already mid-afternoon, and David and I had really been looking forward to going to Tzefat (Safed), so we stopped on the way and grabbed pizza in the car for all (ok, falafel for Elisheva and myself).
Tzefat is an incredibly unique city. It is considered the city that represents the element of air. The city is in the low mountains above the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee), right next to another famous place, Mount Meron, on which lies the tomb of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. To get to Tzefat, one must drive up a winding switchback and the roads are incredibly narrow but still hold two way traffic.
In the middle ages, Tzefat became the home to a number of important (Kabbalists) Jewish mystics, most notablely Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, the Arizal. The synagogues there are beautiful, but unfortunately we didn’t get to as many of the holy sites as we would have liked. The kids were a bit tired and walking through Tzefat requires going up and down a lot of hills and stairs and it's all cobblestone, which is a bit tiring on one’s feet.
The other significant fact of Tzefat is that in the modern era it has become the home of a huge Jewish artist colony. And David and I had arrived here with a mission. We wanted to buy a picture of Jerusalem to be the focal point of our dining room. We saw some beautiful paintings, but none of them were “just right.” However, a certain painting of Tzefat caught out attention and it turned out that the owner of the gallery was from Montreal and his niece is in Leah’s class.
When we finally got David through the artists colony (after the purchase of some beautiful challah covers), we had a brief tour of the city. We started (and probably spent too much time) at the Tzefat Candle Factory where they make beautiful candles and sell and incredibly wide range of braided havdallah candles. We began to make our way back through the colony to the car to figure out mincha (afternoon service) and dinner and getting Gershon to his bus. As we passed the first gallery we had entered, they called our attention. The gallery owners wife, his primary artist, had just brought over two pictures of the Western Wall that she had recently finished. Bingo! (So come visit to see.)
By the time the men finished the afternoon service it seemed silly to leave Tzefat without eating, We ended up having supper at a cute little restaurant called The Tree of Life, which was a healthy food restaurant. The kitchen was tiny and the staff consisted of the owner, who was cook and waitress, and her assistant. Tired but satisfied, we bid good bye to Gershon (who caught a bus back home, leaving us on our own until we would meet up with him again in Jerusalem on Sunday) and headed back to the Yavne’el Bed and Breakfast.
The start off of this day must be stated with two words...FRENCH TOAST. Who could imagine that breakfast could get even better!! (Yup, it’s a running theme!)
We started our third day with Gershon ready to get wet. Our first stop: Banana Boating in the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). It was barely 9 in the morning and already the day was warm and the water was gorgeous. My mom and Gershon took Asher on the speed boat, and the rest of us climbed aboard a banana boat built for eight. We loop-d-looped and jumped the waves and thought this was the ultimate fun, but we were wrong. We headed back into the docks and switched onto a giant round raft with a back wall. We each took our position and grabbed onto the hand grips on the seat. Off we flew. Okay, my perspective was a little different then the rest of the family’s because I seemed to be incapable of maintaining my seat. I kept bouncing around and losing my hand grips and laughing so hard I thought I might gag. It was AWESOME!!!!
Still grinning, we got back into the van and headed back toward the Golan where Gershon had it planned that we would do one of the area’s most famous hikes, the Banyas. Certain young people saw the parking lot, saw the hot terrain and got kinda prickly. After the Nahal Yehudia yesterday, they were not interested in lots of stairs or exertion. Hahahah. So there were lots of stairs and it was a bit of work getting down, but wow. The Banayas is an incredible waterfall in a crevice between mountains. It’s a fast flowing stream with gorgeous foliage all around. To stop people from hiking through the stream, the Israeli government built a beautiful sidewalk platform. By the time we really got into it, the bad moods had evaporated. Oh, and the walk back to the car was much less then the walk down to the beginning had been.
We were, as usual, running a bit behind. It was already mid-afternoon, and David and I had really been looking forward to going to Tzefat (Safed), so we stopped on the way and grabbed pizza in the car for all (ok, falafel for Elisheva and myself).
Tzefat is an incredibly unique city. It is considered the city that represents the element of air. The city is in the low mountains above the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee), right next to another famous place, Mount Meron, on which lies the tomb of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. To get to Tzefat, one must drive up a winding switchback and the roads are incredibly narrow but still hold two way traffic.
In the middle ages, Tzefat became the home to a number of important (Kabbalists) Jewish mystics, most notablely Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, the Arizal. The synagogues there are beautiful, but unfortunately we didn’t get to as many of the holy sites as we would have liked. The kids were a bit tired and walking through Tzefat requires going up and down a lot of hills and stairs and it's all cobblestone, which is a bit tiring on one’s feet.
 |
| Ok, we took this one specifically for all my friends who went to Livnot! |
The other significant fact of Tzefat is that in the modern era it has become the home of a huge Jewish artist colony. And David and I had arrived here with a mission. We wanted to buy a picture of Jerusalem to be the focal point of our dining room. We saw some beautiful paintings, but none of them were “just right.” However, a certain painting of Tzefat caught out attention and it turned out that the owner of the gallery was from Montreal and his niece is in Leah’s class.
When we finally got David through the artists colony (after the purchase of some beautiful challah covers), we had a brief tour of the city. We started (and probably spent too much time) at the Tzefat Candle Factory where they make beautiful candles and sell and incredibly wide range of braided havdallah candles. We began to make our way back through the colony to the car to figure out mincha (afternoon service) and dinner and getting Gershon to his bus. As we passed the first gallery we had entered, they called our attention. The gallery owners wife, his primary artist, had just brought over two pictures of the Western Wall that she had recently finished. Bingo! (So come visit to see.)
By the time the men finished the afternoon service it seemed silly to leave Tzefat without eating, We ended up having supper at a cute little restaurant called The Tree of Life, which was a healthy food restaurant. The kitchen was tiny and the staff consisted of the owner, who was cook and waitress, and her assistant. Tired but satisfied, we bid good bye to Gershon (who caught a bus back home, leaving us on our own until we would meet up with him again in Jerusalem on Sunday) and headed back to the Yavne’el Bed and Breakfast.
Titled: Honey, Do We Have Travellers Insurance?
And on the third morning in Yavne’el we feasted upon...Pancakes. :) I know, you are all totally booking your stay at the Yavne’el Bed and BREAKFAST
Today was our day for independence. We spent a lot of time discussing what we should do (ok, maybe arguing a bit) but we had a basic plan, which was to start with a hike recommended by our host, then head to Gamla and after a few other minor stops return to Yavne’el in time to visit with friends of ours from Montreal who had made Aliyah (moved to Israel) a year or so before and actually lived in Yavne’el.
The hike, known as the Majrasa, was actually not far from Nahal Yahudia, where we had hike the day before. This too was a water hike. We were all set to get wet, but alas we took a little too long to get to the start of the hike and soon the park was filled with a school trip. Like Nahal Kibbutzim a few days earlier, this hike took us down a stream. There was far less swimming, and mom was wary of the fact that the floor was completely rocks. Large rocks, little rocks, rocking rocks...you get my point. There was also a lot more shade, which was good but also made the water and air cooler so there were points where you were actually cold. We had some issues with the school group ahead of us stopping and having water fights that made it impossible for anyone to pass, but eventually their teachers caught on that there were several families (not just us) waiting to pass. All in all, the family enjoyed the hike.
After finishing we headed north toward a place I saw on the map called Katzrin. Here archeologists had unearthed a village from the times of the Talmud and it had been turned into a recreation village tourist spot. I really wanted to go there, David wasn’t so sure, so we decided to have a picnic lunch (pita and hummus, you know) and decided. It also happened that they had a lovely picnic area just outside the gate of the Talmudic village with lots of tables and a roofed area to provide shade.
However, not far from the picnic area and adjacent to the visitors center was an aluminum door or ramp that sat full our in the hot afternoon sun. And this is where our day went very, very wrong. As we were eating and shmoozing and debating going in, Asher ran about like an almost two year old does, and like all toddlers, he tripped and fell...right onto the metal door. Ten seconds on the door equalled 2nd degree burns.
I honestly don’t know who cried out and got my attention but in a flash David and I were hurrying him into the visitors center noticing first one hand blistering and peeling, and the arm, and the other hand and the knee! And the other knee. From my perspective, there were two may limbs to run under water. The man in the visitors center sent us into town (about two blocks) to a clinic. The kids were AMAZING helping my mom grab all thee stuff we had pulled from car for the picnic and staying out from underfoot but close enough to move swiftly. We got there only to discover that it was the wrong type of clinic, and, anyway, they were closing, but just over there (points to adjoining parking lot) is Magen David Adom (like Red Cross Ambulance Service). The Magen David Adom office was a tiny caravan, and we were reliant on my Hebrew (the best of the bunch) to communicate. Basically, though, they didn’t have the supplies to deal with the burns. We needed to go to a hospital, either in Tzevat or Tiberias (both towns needing us to go over long winding roads). While Tiberias was closer to where we were staying, Tzefat was closer to where we were. We piled into the van and hurried as fast as we could over narrow two land streets switchbacking up and down the area. There were two cars driving I front of us for what felt like forever and there was no room to pass.
Finally we made it to Tzefat and Ziv Hospital, which has a separate pediatric emergency room that just so happened to have been almost completely empty. Hurray!
The staff at Ziv Hospital could not have been nicer. Unfortunately, they had to give him pain medicine and wait for it to go into effect before they could examine him. In fact, they had to dope out poor sweet baby up and he was pretty funny once those drugs kicked in. He also let the doctors and nurses examine all his burns. Initially they were concerned that part of it was actually third degree and they actually wanted to keep him overnight so that a plastic surgeon could look at him in the morning. In all honesty, my immediate attempts to dissuade them were purely selfish. I hated the idea of the trip being so disrupted for the kids! Eventually, however, they did decide that all the burns were second degree (although that one area would require a little more attention) and we could leave if we arranged to see a pediatrician the next day and perhaps a plastic surgeon on Friday. They shmeared him with Silversol, wrapped him like a mummy and sent us on our way after assurances that we would see a doctor to change the bandages the next day.
I want to take a moment here to shout out. DAVID WAS AMAZING! Not only did he keep his calm as we drove down and up crazy roads getting to Tzefat, but he also dealt with all of the administrative details at the hospital and got on the phone with our travellers insurance. (On that note, however, I should point out that that very morning he had delayed our departure by double checking that our travellers insurance was in order. Stop counting chickens ....!!!!) In the upcoming days, he would also prove himself to be a master bandage changer.
I would also like to express my unending thanks to my mother for taking care of the most thankless part of this process, which was keeping the other kids from “dying of boredom” in the sparse waiting area.
Tired and a bit overwhelmed, we headed back to Yavne’el, grabbed a pizza and sat down to try to picture what the next day would bring, where we should go to get Asher’s burns looked at, as well as whether we should stay with the conventional medicine or visit one of the famous burn ladies in Israel and who are said to work miracles. Because of our unstable situation (changing locations), we ended up sticking to conventional. We were sad to have missed seeing Miriam and her family, but we were definitely ready for bed.
Today was our day for independence. We spent a lot of time discussing what we should do (ok, maybe arguing a bit) but we had a basic plan, which was to start with a hike recommended by our host, then head to Gamla and after a few other minor stops return to Yavne’el in time to visit with friends of ours from Montreal who had made Aliyah (moved to Israel) a year or so before and actually lived in Yavne’el.
The hike, known as the Majrasa, was actually not far from Nahal Yahudia, where we had hike the day before. This too was a water hike. We were all set to get wet, but alas we took a little too long to get to the start of the hike and soon the park was filled with a school trip. Like Nahal Kibbutzim a few days earlier, this hike took us down a stream. There was far less swimming, and mom was wary of the fact that the floor was completely rocks. Large rocks, little rocks, rocking rocks...you get my point. There was also a lot more shade, which was good but also made the water and air cooler so there were points where you were actually cold. We had some issues with the school group ahead of us stopping and having water fights that made it impossible for anyone to pass, but eventually their teachers caught on that there were several families (not just us) waiting to pass. All in all, the family enjoyed the hike.
After finishing we headed north toward a place I saw on the map called Katzrin. Here archeologists had unearthed a village from the times of the Talmud and it had been turned into a recreation village tourist spot. I really wanted to go there, David wasn’t so sure, so we decided to have a picnic lunch (pita and hummus, you know) and decided. It also happened that they had a lovely picnic area just outside the gate of the Talmudic village with lots of tables and a roofed area to provide shade.
However, not far from the picnic area and adjacent to the visitors center was an aluminum door or ramp that sat full our in the hot afternoon sun. And this is where our day went very, very wrong. As we were eating and shmoozing and debating going in, Asher ran about like an almost two year old does, and like all toddlers, he tripped and fell...right onto the metal door. Ten seconds on the door equalled 2nd degree burns.
I honestly don’t know who cried out and got my attention but in a flash David and I were hurrying him into the visitors center noticing first one hand blistering and peeling, and the arm, and the other hand and the knee! And the other knee. From my perspective, there were two may limbs to run under water. The man in the visitors center sent us into town (about two blocks) to a clinic. The kids were AMAZING helping my mom grab all thee stuff we had pulled from car for the picnic and staying out from underfoot but close enough to move swiftly. We got there only to discover that it was the wrong type of clinic, and, anyway, they were closing, but just over there (points to adjoining parking lot) is Magen David Adom (like Red Cross Ambulance Service). The Magen David Adom office was a tiny caravan, and we were reliant on my Hebrew (the best of the bunch) to communicate. Basically, though, they didn’t have the supplies to deal with the burns. We needed to go to a hospital, either in Tzevat or Tiberias (both towns needing us to go over long winding roads). While Tiberias was closer to where we were staying, Tzefat was closer to where we were. We piled into the van and hurried as fast as we could over narrow two land streets switchbacking up and down the area. There were two cars driving I front of us for what felt like forever and there was no room to pass.
Finally we made it to Tzefat and Ziv Hospital, which has a separate pediatric emergency room that just so happened to have been almost completely empty. Hurray!
The staff at Ziv Hospital could not have been nicer. Unfortunately, they had to give him pain medicine and wait for it to go into effect before they could examine him. In fact, they had to dope out poor sweet baby up and he was pretty funny once those drugs kicked in. He also let the doctors and nurses examine all his burns. Initially they were concerned that part of it was actually third degree and they actually wanted to keep him overnight so that a plastic surgeon could look at him in the morning. In all honesty, my immediate attempts to dissuade them were purely selfish. I hated the idea of the trip being so disrupted for the kids! Eventually, however, they did decide that all the burns were second degree (although that one area would require a little more attention) and we could leave if we arranged to see a pediatrician the next day and perhaps a plastic surgeon on Friday. They shmeared him with Silversol, wrapped him like a mummy and sent us on our way after assurances that we would see a doctor to change the bandages the next day.
 |
| Elisheva was tremendously helpful in the emergency room. |
I want to take a moment here to shout out. DAVID WAS AMAZING! Not only did he keep his calm as we drove down and up crazy roads getting to Tzefat, but he also dealt with all of the administrative details at the hospital and got on the phone with our travellers insurance. (On that note, however, I should point out that that very morning he had delayed our departure by double checking that our travellers insurance was in order. Stop counting chickens ....!!!!) In the upcoming days, he would also prove himself to be a master bandage changer.
I would also like to express my unending thanks to my mother for taking care of the most thankless part of this process, which was keeping the other kids from “dying of boredom” in the sparse waiting area.
Tired and a bit overwhelmed, we headed back to Yavne’el, grabbed a pizza and sat down to try to picture what the next day would bring, where we should go to get Asher’s burns looked at, as well as whether we should stay with the conventional medicine or visit one of the famous burn ladies in Israel and who are said to work miracles. Because of our unstable situation (changing locations), we ended up sticking to conventional. We were sad to have missed seeing Miriam and her family, but we were definitely ready for bed.
To the Coast, Where Crusaders Once Roamed
Our last morning at the Yavne’el Bed and Breakfast was just as wonderful as the previous few days had been, but given the situation with Asher we were a little less focussed on it. David and I were tremendously grateful that Asher had a decent night and seemed, over all, to be in good spirits.
While we had initially had a very different agenda for the day, our entire plan was now centered around Asher and fulfilling our promise to have his bandages changed by a medical professional. We ended up very lucky once again in that David had an Israeli friend whom he had met at a program at Harvard who had connections at the Rambam Hospital in Haifa. This friend made arrangements for Asher to be seen whenever we arrived and so we headed for the coast.
Before we left the Galilee, however, we had one quick detour. Just ten minutes from where we were staying was a Moshav (settlement) named Sharona. There was no way we were leaving the region without a picture of out awesome Leah Sharona in front of that sign.
Getting to the Rambam Hospital was not difficult. As we travelled, I tried to find suggestions for something mom could do with the kids while we took Asher to the hospital, but my mom had some reservations about getting lost and so we all went straight to the hospital. When we got there, we discovered that the pediatric center of the hospital had its own little science museum, so mom and the kids went there. Actually, they didn’t stay there long. As we later learned, the small café in the Children’s Centre was not to the liking of my children when they got hungry, they somehow managed to discover that in the food court under the main hospital there was a Kosher McDonalds, which is where we found them when Asher was done.
I don’t want to go into details, but I will say that the reception and treatment we received from the staff at Rambam was excellent. Asher’s injuries were examined, and the doctor seemed very confident that consistent bandage changing and making sure to keep it clear of infection (but let Asher be the toddler that he is) was the best course of action.
With Asher well-wrapped, we headed off to another “tourist” adventure. (Yes there are things to do in Haifa that we skipped. We did point out the beautiful Bahai Gardens to the kids as we drove by them.) Directly north of Haifa is the city of Acre, which, like Jaffa, was a historically important port until the newer, more modern city, overshadowed it. Acre was particularly important to the Crusaders. Now not only had several people recommended Acre to us, but my mom and I had strong memories of it as well. And I told my boys that this was a crusader thing and maybe they’d sell swords we could get ... you know, anything to make them excited.
Parking in Acre was yet another adventure. Waze led us to the Crusader Tunnels and we parked by the old ramparts. When we got out, several kids had to use the bathroom, and the only restroom we could find was at a house where a lady charged 5 shekels for public toilet usage. Some of the kids were outraged!
The Tunnels were not the thing I remembered, but they led to the thing I remembered, which was the citadel. Still, the tunnels were very cool. They were used by the Crusaders to get to and from the port, even when under-siege. As we got to the end of the tunnels (farther from the port) the tunnels got shorter and shorter, so that David (wearing Asher on his back) had to bend down a bit.
The tunnels let out into the old city of Acre. Actually, the exit was directly opposite a shop selling ice cream and candy and drinks...and swords. We got Yaakov a cheap sword, as well as refreshments for everyone before following the very long trail through the city to the Citadel. Unfortunately, we got lost on the way there, and that would later effect us in cutting our time at the very cool fortress.
The Citadel (where upon paying the entry fee David also purchased one bathroom pass! for each of us) was not as I remembered it. I remember entering a nearly intact excavation of a Crusader fortress. I guess the tourism ministry also thought it was cool, as they seem to have developed it quite a bit. Far more of it seems to have been opened up, but I could be remembering wrong. For certain, though, it was more set up for tourists. (Actually, I just looked it up online and I am not wrong. It seems there were structural issues and so there was a massive preservation and reconstruction project in the 1990s, not long after my last visit to this sight, which would have been my BBYO tour in 1990. http://www.akko.org.il/en/Old-Acre-About-Conservation-Fortress-Project)
Anyway, the Citadel, which was the Fortress of the Knights Hospitaller, has soaring, arched ceilings and is really quite incredible. There were tourist boards explaining the history of the city and the history of the Crusaders reign in the Holyland. In one of the main rooms, the ministry had set up an area to mimic a market, with spread out stalls where people sold artisan where that represented the types of artisanship of that era. (Not quite a recreation type situation). One of these stalls belonged to a group presenting a Virtual Reality Experience of Acre. Now I can’t tell you what it was because we only paid for the four big kids to do it, but they were wowed and astounded and said it was incredible.
Alas, not long after that we looked at the time and realized that we were due in Tel Aviv to meet up with David’s friend from Harvard. We still had to trek back through Acre and back through the tunnels to get van, so we hustled along. As interesting as the new displays were, I have to be honest and say it was not the same experience I remember, when you felt more like you were in ruins than reconstruction.
David’s friend, Asaf, lives in northern Tel Aviv. If there is one thing that Tel Aviv makes you think about, it’s the housing pressure in Israel. The area was mostly comprised of soaring apartment complexes, and this was one of the more desirable neighborhoods of the city. (If you can, tell, I am not a city person.) For being so crowded, I must compliment the city, and Israel in general, for including a wonderful number of playgrounds in the areas that we saw. Also, most of these playgrounds had built in shades to keep them out of the intense sun. We hung out at one such playground so the kids (ours and theirs) could run around and it was a lovely visit.
Not wanting to be caught in Tel Aviv for Mincha and Maariv (afternoon and evening services) and then having to get to our next Airbnb in Jerusalem, we left Tel Aviv with the hope of making it to Modiim, about 20 minutes outside of Jerusalem, where we were certain we could find a minyan for Mincha. Alas, what we did not account for was the massive amount of traffic! We had to pull over for David and Avi to do Mincha on time and then we “crawled” toward Jerusalem.
It was dark as we pulled into the city, which was disappointing for me because I had hoped for the kids to have that dynamic first impression of this holy city. Even though it night, both David and I could immediately see that this was not the same city we had last set foot in (separately) 16 or so years ago. There was a really cool bridge with colors dancing upon its wires.
Our new Airbnb location was located in the heart of the city, in a neighorhood known as Rechavia. To get there, we crawled along Agrippas Street, passed the Machane Yehuda Shuk (outdoor-ish market), and we were all enthralled by the throngs of people out. There was definitely a unique atmosphere of a city preparing for Shabbat.
Narkiss 6, the apartment we rented, was up a small street off a small street and we were, in all honesty, lucky to actually find it as it had no number on it. I volunteered to get out of the car and “check it out,” with many rallying cheers (and sneers) about the Ophir Hotel coming from behind me. I let myself in and was delighted to discover that we had hit gold once again. The apartment was amazing: high ceilings, enough beds, fully stocked. The family was greatly pleased. We brought out stuff in, discovered a location for Maariv and crashed not long thereafter.
While we had initially had a very different agenda for the day, our entire plan was now centered around Asher and fulfilling our promise to have his bandages changed by a medical professional. We ended up very lucky once again in that David had an Israeli friend whom he had met at a program at Harvard who had connections at the Rambam Hospital in Haifa. This friend made arrangements for Asher to be seen whenever we arrived and so we headed for the coast.
Before we left the Galilee, however, we had one quick detour. Just ten minutes from where we were staying was a Moshav (settlement) named Sharona. There was no way we were leaving the region without a picture of out awesome Leah Sharona in front of that sign.
I don’t want to go into details, but I will say that the reception and treatment we received from the staff at Rambam was excellent. Asher’s injuries were examined, and the doctor seemed very confident that consistent bandage changing and making sure to keep it clear of infection (but let Asher be the toddler that he is) was the best course of action.
With Asher well-wrapped, we headed off to another “tourist” adventure. (Yes there are things to do in Haifa that we skipped. We did point out the beautiful Bahai Gardens to the kids as we drove by them.) Directly north of Haifa is the city of Acre, which, like Jaffa, was a historically important port until the newer, more modern city, overshadowed it. Acre was particularly important to the Crusaders. Now not only had several people recommended Acre to us, but my mom and I had strong memories of it as well. And I told my boys that this was a crusader thing and maybe they’d sell swords we could get ... you know, anything to make them excited.
Parking in Acre was yet another adventure. Waze led us to the Crusader Tunnels and we parked by the old ramparts. When we got out, several kids had to use the bathroom, and the only restroom we could find was at a house where a lady charged 5 shekels for public toilet usage. Some of the kids were outraged!
The Tunnels were not the thing I remembered, but they led to the thing I remembered, which was the citadel. Still, the tunnels were very cool. They were used by the Crusaders to get to and from the port, even when under-siege. As we got to the end of the tunnels (farther from the port) the tunnels got shorter and shorter, so that David (wearing Asher on his back) had to bend down a bit.
The tunnels let out into the old city of Acre. Actually, the exit was directly opposite a shop selling ice cream and candy and drinks...and swords. We got Yaakov a cheap sword, as well as refreshments for everyone before following the very long trail through the city to the Citadel. Unfortunately, we got lost on the way there, and that would later effect us in cutting our time at the very cool fortress.
The Citadel (where upon paying the entry fee David also purchased one bathroom pass! for each of us) was not as I remembered it. I remember entering a nearly intact excavation of a Crusader fortress. I guess the tourism ministry also thought it was cool, as they seem to have developed it quite a bit. Far more of it seems to have been opened up, but I could be remembering wrong. For certain, though, it was more set up for tourists. (Actually, I just looked it up online and I am not wrong. It seems there were structural issues and so there was a massive preservation and reconstruction project in the 1990s, not long after my last visit to this sight, which would have been my BBYO tour in 1990. http://www.akko.org.il/en/Old-Acre-About-Conservation-Fortress-Project)
Anyway, the Citadel, which was the Fortress of the Knights Hospitaller, has soaring, arched ceilings and is really quite incredible. There were tourist boards explaining the history of the city and the history of the Crusaders reign in the Holyland. In one of the main rooms, the ministry had set up an area to mimic a market, with spread out stalls where people sold artisan where that represented the types of artisanship of that era. (Not quite a recreation type situation). One of these stalls belonged to a group presenting a Virtual Reality Experience of Acre. Now I can’t tell you what it was because we only paid for the four big kids to do it, but they were wowed and astounded and said it was incredible.
Alas, not long after that we looked at the time and realized that we were due in Tel Aviv to meet up with David’s friend from Harvard. We still had to trek back through Acre and back through the tunnels to get van, so we hustled along. As interesting as the new displays were, I have to be honest and say it was not the same experience I remember, when you felt more like you were in ruins than reconstruction.
David’s friend, Asaf, lives in northern Tel Aviv. If there is one thing that Tel Aviv makes you think about, it’s the housing pressure in Israel. The area was mostly comprised of soaring apartment complexes, and this was one of the more desirable neighborhoods of the city. (If you can, tell, I am not a city person.) For being so crowded, I must compliment the city, and Israel in general, for including a wonderful number of playgrounds in the areas that we saw. Also, most of these playgrounds had built in shades to keep them out of the intense sun. We hung out at one such playground so the kids (ours and theirs) could run around and it was a lovely visit.
Not wanting to be caught in Tel Aviv for Mincha and Maariv (afternoon and evening services) and then having to get to our next Airbnb in Jerusalem, we left Tel Aviv with the hope of making it to Modiim, about 20 minutes outside of Jerusalem, where we were certain we could find a minyan for Mincha. Alas, what we did not account for was the massive amount of traffic! We had to pull over for David and Avi to do Mincha on time and then we “crawled” toward Jerusalem.
It was dark as we pulled into the city, which was disappointing for me because I had hoped for the kids to have that dynamic first impression of this holy city. Even though it night, both David and I could immediately see that this was not the same city we had last set foot in (separately) 16 or so years ago. There was a really cool bridge with colors dancing upon its wires.
Our new Airbnb location was located in the heart of the city, in a neighorhood known as Rechavia. To get there, we crawled along Agrippas Street, passed the Machane Yehuda Shuk (outdoor-ish market), and we were all enthralled by the throngs of people out. There was definitely a unique atmosphere of a city preparing for Shabbat.
Narkiss 6, the apartment we rented, was up a small street off a small street and we were, in all honesty, lucky to actually find it as it had no number on it. I volunteered to get out of the car and “check it out,” with many rallying cheers (and sneers) about the Ophir Hotel coming from behind me. I let myself in and was delighted to discover that we had hit gold once again. The apartment was amazing: high ceilings, enough beds, fully stocked. The family was greatly pleased. We brought out stuff in, discovered a location for Maariv and crashed not long thereafter.
Goooood Morning Jerusalem!!!
Friday June 30
Getting started was a little less speedy then I had hoped. David successfully got Avi up and out for minyan, but when they got back the rest of the household was still in a bit of slow-motion. David very quickly discovered that the Narkiss building in which we were staying was practically attached to a tiny coffee café owned and operated by a cute young family. You can guess where we had breakfast.
Getting started was a little less speedy then I had hoped. David successfully got Avi up and out for minyan, but when they got back the rest of the household was still in a bit of slow-motion. David very quickly discovered that the Narkiss building in which we were staying was practically attached to a tiny coffee café owned and operated by a cute young family. You can guess where we had breakfast.
Breakfast over, it was time to organize ourselves to head to the shuk to buy our Shabbas needs. First we desperately needed to get money - which was almost funny since, in Israel, Friday is like Sunday and the banks are closed. We went first to Bank Hapoalim and found that there, as in almost all the other places we had gone, our cards were not accepted. We went to the money changer across the street. He didn’t take cards, but sent us to Bank Leumi stating that when people come to him frustrated after Bank Hapoalim, he sends them to Leumi and never sees them again. He was right. Hodu l’Hashem! I had been getting quite anxious about our lack of funds.
Cash in hand, we were ready for the shuk. This was an activity that both David and I had been looking forward to, but our mission was daunted by two aspects. 1) um, we got lost. All the streets here wind around and around and it took us far longer to get there than we had hoped. 2) Having gotten a later start than we had expected, the shuk was incredibly crowded.
Our first stop at the shuk was Marzipan, the famous bakery, followed by a giant candy stall where David spoiled the children. It was crowded, but that’s really part of the experience.
Our first stop at the shuk was Marzipan, the famous bakery, followed by a giant candy stall where David spoiled the children. It was crowded, but that’s really part of the experience.
We bought produce and spices and pastries. We stopped for lunch in a tiny stall that sold malawacha. David and Avi shared a malawach toast with chumas and spices, Leah and Yaakov shared a malawach pizza, and Elisheva and I shares shakshukalawach, which was shakshuka on a malawach. By the time we left the shuk (with several less-than-patient children), it was close to 2 pm, and we didn’t actually have food for Shabbat.
The shuk experience of 2017 was...weird. It felt so much less authentic, although there were still plenty of merchants “hawking” their wares, there were far more “boutique” shops mimicking Shuk stores. Theses included quite a few bars and restaurants (like the melawach place).
On our way back to Narkiss Street, we passed a toy store and purchased some entertainment (a glider bike for Asher, soldiers for Yaakov) to keep the younger kids busy on Shabbat. David and Leah headed to a store David had discovered the night before and they purchased our actual Shabbat seuda.
SHABBAT (Happy Birthday David)
David and Avi had thought to go to the Kotel (Western Wall) for Friday night services, but in the end it proved too complicated. The guys davened locally and met Leah, Yaakov, Asher and myself on the way to a little playground down a windy hill. As we got there, Avi jumped the gate into the park and was rewarded for his enthusiasm with greetings from the four dogs who were already there (only one was of any size). He freaked out, ran this way, then that way as I was shouting “Just stand still,” and David was trying to help him out and the dog owners were trying to calm the dogs. He got out but it was a bit terrifying. David and I explained to him that when dogs see you run they get excited and just stand still.
It had been a wee bit challenging getting ready for Shabbat in a somewhat kosher (there is kosher equipment) kitchen that you haven’t been in for even 24 hours. Nevertheless, we made a lovely little seudah meal. (Okay, the soup was vegetables spiced with the zatar mix that David had purchased at the spice shop and there was no salad or desert, but everyone was very satisfied.)
On Shabbat morning, David, Avi and Elisheva got up super early and headed to the Kotel. I didn’t expect to see them until close to noon, but they actually got back around 10, just as mom and I were leaving the apartment to take the kids to the playground. David and Avi went to the Gra Shul to learn, Shevi went to bed, and we went to the playground. No one wanted lunch THAT early.
Shabbat day was rather long, and the children grew restless. At 7 pm (ok, 7:10, since changing Asher’s bandages took longer than we expected.) We headed, altogether, to the Kotel. The weather was lovely - a nice, gentle breeze - and the walk was really quite pleasant. Even though David had given Avi and Shevi a bit of a tour that morning, we discussed things we were seeing. For David and I, it was a bit weird. There were quite a few bar/bistros open on Shabbat, which either was a more recent development or was just something I had been oblivious to in the past. For me, the whole walk was tinged with memories. As we got to the Rova (the center of the Jewish quarter), we told David and Avi to hurry ahead in order not to miss a minyan for Maariv). This, however, left me with getting the stroller down the many stairs that lead to the Kotel plaza. It took awhile.
How do I discuss being by the Kotel, the Western Wall, the Wailing Wall (if you don’t know about it, read this LINK). Walking down the stairs is breathtaking. I felt as if I had never left and as if I had been away forever. More significantly, it was a very different feeling being there as a mother, with my kids, and hoping that they were feeling a spark and were understanding, on some level, the significance of where we stood.
As a group we found a spot among the women at the Kotel. It was, as it always is, startling and beautiful to see the incredible diversity of the people there. Each of us went up to the Kotel, and said whatever it was we felt appropriate to say. I davened Maariv and we found the men and were ready to head home. Our plan was to grab two taxis, which we accomplished. Mine (with Asher, mom and Yaakov) cost 50 shekels. David’s taxi driver “bargained” him down to 90!
With Shabbat over and the kids heading to bed, David and I took advantage of having my mother with us. We went for a walk to Ben Yehuda St, which happens to be incredibly close to the apartment we rented. David was yearning for a burger; I was not particularly hungry but wanted ice cream. Before heading to eat, we wandered the street like a luxurious stroll down memory lane. Some places never change, and in its essence, Ben Yehuda is like that. It is a “pedestrian mall” that is the ultimate hang-out. It is the essence, in my opinion, of Anglo-Israeli culture. I’m pretty sure I heard far more English than Hebrew being spoken. We rediscovered Timol Shilshon, a charming bookstore café tucked away down seemingly random alley off of an offshoot of Ben Yehuda. It is pretty close to the same, although it has a little bit stronger of a restaurant feel than it used to. Many familiar places were still there, but others had gone or changed. The Underground (a club), which was a landmark for both of us not so much because we had, either of us, hung out there but because we had been here at an age when our peers did, had moved and perhaps died. The large hotel bordering the center square, which David and I both remember having a run down feel with a dark parking lot underneath, was completely renovated and active. (I have my suspicions that removing the Underground was part of the agreement for reinvigorating the hotel.)
On our way to Café Rimon to get David his burger (and me fries...ended up to tired for ice cream!) at Café Rimon, we ran into The Franklins from home. I had known they were coming, but it felt nice to be surprised by a familiar face.
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