Israel, Day 1

“Real American? Are you serious?” I raised one eyebrow as close to the roof of the car as possible and gave Scott my best look of incredulity.

“Dude. You’re going out of the country. Gotta represent.” He pulled us up to the curb with the music blasting, turned it down, and unlocked the doors.

“Only you, man. Only you,” I said, rolling my eyes, but I smiled and beckoned for him to follow me out of the car. I hugged him and thanked him for the ride to the airport, then I tugged on my backpack and hefted my duffel bag onto my shoulder.

“Have a great trip. Be safe.”

“Will do.” With that, I strolled into the doors below the big, red Swiss Air sign. I wondered how far I would have to walk before seeing my group and recognizing them for who they were, but at that very moment I saw a cluster of people my age milling about, and, at the front of the group, a young woman in an Israel Outdoors shirt. Excellent.

I walked up to them and dropped my bag off my shoulder.

“Name?” the woman asked.

“Garrett. Cooperman.” I handed my passport over and she checked me off.

“Thanks. You can just hang out for a little bit.” We were still waiting for others, it seemed.

Surveying the group, I did what most people do when they do not know and are not known by the group into which they have emerged. I looked for a smaller subgroup of people who seemed, if not inviting or amiable, at least impassive. There were a couple of girls having a conversation about previous travel experiences, which was perfect because I had none.

“Hi,” I said. I offered a smile.

“Hey,” they each responded. “I’m Jesse,” one of them claimed.

“I’m Jessie, too,” said another. Later, we would find that there were three Jessies of one variation or another in our group.

A moment of confusion. I interrupted the awkward silence with an awkward introduction. I’m so good at being appropriate.

“I’m Garrett. You can just call me G, if you want. Not that there will be a lot of me on this trip…” I laughed nervously. I’m outgoing, but it’s somewhat forced. I’m almost always nervous around an entirely new group of people, and my silly sense of humor sounds ridiculously alien to me, like those stuffed green men from Toy Story, when it spills out of my mouth unchecked.

“Haha, there we go!” the first one laughed. “You can just call me J.”

“All right, so we have J and G,” the other one said.

We talked about previous travels, or any lacking thereof, and where we were from. They were both from North Carolina, which didn’t surprise me in the least seeing as this was a Charlotte-based group. I explained briefly how I got onto the Charlotte trip, and before we knew it, it was time to move on.

We got in line to get our tickets, and while we waited, the staff distributed nametags to each of us. Everyone was fumbling for pens, so I pulled my red Sharpie from my pocket, used it, and passed it on. I made it to the counter at the same time as the guy in front of me, whose name was Stern, so we ended up seated together on the plane.

The woman who was checking names earlier was Tair, one of our group leaders. She had moved to the head of the group and was giving assignments to each set of trip-goers who finished receiving their tickets. “You have until 3:15 to go get something to eat, shop, or do whatever. Be at the gate on time. Also, you need to meet three new people and learn something new about them.” I counted on my fingers. J, Jessie, Stern. Man, I’m almost done. Cool.

“You like sports?” I asked Stern as we walked up to security.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Cool. Me too.”

I decided I wanted to walk around this terminal I hadn’t been in before. Just then, I bumped into a petite girl with dark hair and a friendly smile. “Sorry,” I said, in my klutzy way. “I’m Garrett.”

“I’m Erika. How are you?”

“I’m good. Just kind of wandering. You?”

“I’m looking for something to eat. I’m thinking I’ll get some soup.”

“Soup’s always good. Want company?”

“Sure, thanks,” she said. “Oh, there’s a place.” She wandered over to a shop to get her soup, and I took a moment to look at the stores around us. When she came back, Aimee had joined us. Aimee was the one person I sort-of knew before the trip; she had added me on Facebook from the Charlotte-Birthright group page and we talked a few times about the trip.

“Hey, do you guys want to come with me to check out those pens?” I pointed to the Montblanc store thirty feet away. My eyes were already drooling over the finely crafted writing utensils displayed in shiny glass cases.

“Uh…” Aimee said, which was enough to demonstrate her opinion.

“Pens?” Erika was a bit more diplomatic and seemed honestly confused.

“Yeah. No. Not just pens. Montblanc. They’re professionals. These pens… well, they’re expensive but they’re total collectors’ items because they’re so well made.” I had gone off the deep end and was floundering for purchase. “I guess you’d have to be a writer.”

“I’ll check them out with you, I guess,” she agreed. We hustled over to the shop and they gaped at the prices while I dreamed of writing poetry with these functional works of art. They are rather insanely priced, but they’re also very pretty.

We left and sat down at a table so Erika could eat. Before we knew it, it was time to go meet the group.

On the way over, I bumped into Jessica again. I pulled out my ticket and asked, “Hey, where are you sitting?”

She looked at me, perplexed, and replied, “Right here…” I gave her a minute. “OH!” She told me her seat number. I grinned and chuckled inwardly.

As she had fished out her ticket, I fished out my Moleskine. Little did it know, but this book was about to become a celebrity on this trip. “Wait, are you writing down what just happened?”
“Well, yeah. It was funny. I’m planning to write down a lot of things, if I find them interesting.”

“So, are you gonna be writing down all the dumb things everyone says, or is it just me?”

“No, no, not dumb things. Just stuff I find amusing or really cool. I can leave this off…”

“No, it’s okay.” She went back to her conversation, but was quickly interrupted by the call to meet up. Tair and Andrew, the other group leader, sat us all in a big circle on the floor at the end of the terminal by our gate.

“Time to trade fun facts about each other. I want each of you to state your name, where you’re from, what you do, and one fact about someone here. Try to say something about someone who hasn’t gone yet.”

After our little game, the Rules were explained. Andrew did his best to put the fear of God in us. “The three rules are: Be on time or get left behind; Be flexible or get broken; and Don’t get in trouble or die.”

Okay, that’s not exactly what he said, but it was the point he seemed to hope to get across.

When the Rules were forcibly drilled into our skulls deep enough to stick, we stood and joined hands for the Traveler’s Prayer. It was a nice little moment. Everyone was psyched for the trip to begin. “So, when we board the pl--” Tair began, but was interrupted by a small and harried girl to her right.

“Wait! My digital camera is missing. I think I left it in the store over there. Can I go check?” It was Sarah.

“Isn’t she the girl that lost her flip flop earlier?” someone to my left whispered.

“Go get it. That’s important. Hurry up,” Tair said.

We boarded the plane. Stern got in before me, and a girl named Allie took her seat on his other side. I pegged her pretty quickly as Chattermouth with Artistic Skill. She was a lot of fun on the plane. All kinds of good-natured sarcasm and smiles. But before any of that began, the pilot got on the intercom.

In the typical laid-back pilot’s deep, relaxed voice, he gave us the situation. “Good afternoon, folks, this is your pilot speaking. It’s about six PM and this is the flight to Zurich, Switzerland. It looks like we’ve got some good weather ahead of us, so it should be smooth sailing today. We may even arrive a bit early; we’ll be flying with the jet stream which could push us to Zurich in seven minutes.”

A beat.

“Seven hours.”

The whole plane erupted in laughter.

At 2:40 PM the following day (local time), we arrived in Tel Aviv. I was taken aback by how cool it looked flying into Israel from the Mediterranean – so much so that I took several pictures from the air.

Our guide, Ran, and our medic/guard, Shai, met us at the airport. Ran looked like a tour guide. His Israel Outdoors T-shirt and ultra practical three-quarters khaki shorts made him stick out rather obviously. Shai dressed a bit more naturally casual, but he carried a rifle that made him equally conspicuous.

Together with Andrew and Tair, they led us out of the airport and into Israel proper (hallelujah!). We unloaded our luggage from the conveyor belt, some of us picked up some cash at the ATM, and then we loaded our luggage onto the bus. It was hot. Luckily, the thoughtful Birthright people left us a pamphlet and a big bottle of water on each of our seats. I gulped down a third of mine and then sat next to the window.

The signs amazed me. They were mostly in Hebrew, though some contained English translations in small text at the bottom. I had never been outside the United States, so this was an extremely exciting culture shock. I was going to learn some Hebrew on this trip.

We pulled up to a rocky beach. Coming off the bus, the first thing I noticed was not the Mediterranean; I had seen that from the sky. I saw this awesome sculpture in the middle of the field before the beach shaped like a harp, and perhaps because I was wearing Mu Beta Psi (National Honorary Musical Fraternity) letters, it reminded me of our crest. The second thing I noticed was the sea. I have a strange mind. This is not news to me, and it shouldn’t be news to you if you’ve been reading this from the beginning.

The water sparkled like diamonds shattered atop a bed trimmed in blue. The sky was clear, the sun was high, and we were all dead-freaking-tired after twenty-something hours of travel. It was wonderful.

Everyone spilled out of the bus in a daze that was two parts excitement and one part exhaustion, or maybe it was the other way around. My new buddy J was so excited (or exhausted) that she stepped off the bus and stubbed her toe.

“Hey, G, do you think I should bother the medic for this?”

“Is it blee—oh, yeah, it is. You should definitely get a band-aid or something. You already got hurt? We’ve been on Israeli land for like five minutes!”

“I know! I’m gonna go tell him I need a band-aid.”

“This has to be a Birthright record or something,” I stated with confidence. She laughed. I dug out my notebook.

Her eyes widened. “Are you writing this down?”

“Hell yes.”

A large circle of people was forming and Ran was giving instructions with his heavy Israeli accent. “…and say dhe one word that describe how you’re feeling right at this time.”

“Awesome.”

“Happy.”

“Excited.”

“Tired.”

They continued around the circle, and I heard 'happy' three or four times before it got to me. My mind wasn’t yet made up. I was feeling a soup of emotions. Mostly excitement, but with large chunks of fatigue. There were a few drops of intrigue and a peppering of curiosity, too. Picturing this emotional soup made me giggle inwardly, and as my turn came, I spoke on instinct.

“Effervescent.” There were a few murmurs representing the crowd that didn’t know the word I had chosen, and I shifted uncomfortably realizing that I probably came off as a sesquipedalian asshole (an asshole that uses big words when smaller ones will do). I nudged Jesse. “I should have said ‘amused’.”

“Anus?” she asked in a hush, scrunching her face in confusion.

“No, amused!” I whispered, “How did you get ‘anus’ from ‘amused’?”

“I don’t know. Are you writing that down, too?!”

“You betcha. Come on, this is hilarious.” I was silently dying of laughter. I saw her smirk, too.

“Yeah, all right. I better not be the only one you’re quoting on this trip, though.”

“Of course not,” I replied.

After this exercise, Ran had us all take a small medicine-sized cup of grape juice with which to make Kiddush. We said the blessing for the fruit of the vine and the Shehechayanu (prayer for the first time). Then it was time for a photo op.

After taking a few shots, I noticed that one tall, dark haired girl nearby had gotten wet. “What happened?”

“Oh, I just wet the only change of clothes I have right now.” She shrugged.

“Venture a bit too far onto the rocks?”

“I guess.”

“Why are those the only clothes you have right now?” I checked my skin to ensure that I wasn’t growing fur; suddenly I felt like Curious George. Nope, I was good.

She laughed mirthlessly. “Because the airline lost my luggage and I won’t have it at least until tomorrow morning.”

Whoa. “That sucks. At least you’ll get it, soon, though.” I was trying to help her keep the bright side in view, though she seemed to be doing a more than decent job already.

She smiled. “Yeah, that’s true. As long as they actually arrive when they’re supposed to.”

Ran called us all back to the bus. After everyone boarded, Tair counted to see that everyone was there. Like a game of Telephone, a couple of words were repeated and passed around the bus: “Where’s Hannah?”

The driver started moving anyway, without the go-ahead, and we all shouted at him to stop until he finally hit the brakes a block and a half down the road.

Hannah was the only one missing. “She can’t be far; this was the only place we’ve been since we landed,” offered one optimistic soul.

“I’m sure she’ll be running up to the bus any second now,” someone else said.

Eight or ten minutes later, Andrew and Tair returned to the bus with Hannah in tow. That dastardly monkey, Curious George, climbed heavily onto my back again. “Where were you?”

“I was sitting.” It was as simple as that, apparently. Why hadn’t anyone thought of that before? Of course she was just sitting. I was so confused. I dropped it, anyway. It seemed the prudent thing to do.

The driver started moving again. Then he asked if it was okay to drive. While we were travelling. It seemed to me that the driver would become an object of much social scrutiny, kind of like the U.S. President or Adidas’s new World Cup ball. He should be proud.

Speaking of the World Cup, Reuben, Marc and I resolved to put it on the television later that evening to catch the semifinal match. When we made it to our room, the Tour de France was on, so two of us watched a bit of that while the third one showered. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

We made it to our room. Let’s go back to that part. Everyone else’s room was part of the main hallway on the fourth or fifth floor. It took a good ten minutes to locate room 411 because we had to exit into the stairwell and go down to the first landing to get there. When we used our brass key (which we were given in lieu of a normal key-card) to unlock the heavy door, we found a second heavy door beyond it before we could enter the room.

“This place is like a bomb shelter or something,” Marc suggested. I was pretty sure he was right.

“Look at these blast doors… and the windows,” said Reuben. There was also a ladder in the room leading to the floor above us, and a locked trap-door on the floor leading to the level below.

“It’s totally a bunker room. If the zombies attack, everyone’s gonna pile into our room,” I said.

So we got cleaned up in the bunker room and then went to dinner. After dinner there was an icebreaker activity in the basement bomb shelter of the hostel, and all the chairs were arranged in a big circle. Sarah was late in arriving; in addition to having lost her flip-flop and her camera, she managed to lose herself somewhere in the building. Once she arrived, we began with more explanations and rules.

“Does anyone know how we are able to give you a free trip to Israel?” Ran asked.

“It’s funded by the government of Israel, the Jewish Federation, and private donors.” Someone had been paying attention before.

“Good. What do you have to give in return?”

A chorus of three or four voices answered, “Participation!”

Ran accepted this answer and went on to explain Shai’s position as medic and guard. He talked about alcohol and how we weren’t allowed to consume it in such quantities as to impair our ability to participate. He mentioned that the basic elements in staying healthy on this trip were water, food, and sleep. Then he asked if anyone was vegetarian. Five people raised their hands.

“So we have five veggies. This is good to know because we will provide many of your meals.” The Five Veggies sounded like an excellent name for a hippie-folk band. I wrote that down.

“And now we have a game to play. This game is called Dhe Wind Blows. Dhe way it work is someone stand up and say something they like or have, like, “dhe wind blows for anyone wearing purple.” Anyone that… anyone who fits with that will get up and find a new seat, so the idea is to sit down again, but there will be one person without a seat. That person has to go next.”

We went through a bunch of these. It was a lot of fun, a great ice breaker. I think my favorite was, “The wind blows for anyone with a blue collar job.”

“What’s that?” asked Sarah.

“Anything where you work with your hands, like construction, or plumbing, or…”

“Oh, I work one of those as a server!” she exclaimed, understanding now.

Everyone ran to find a seat, and Sarah was left standing in the middle with a grin on her face. We were each given some spending cash for snacks after the game, and then it was bedtime. I was not about to whine about that.

The room was hot when we got back, but I didn’t care; I was really tired, and wake up the following day was at seven in the morning. I slept quickly and deeply.