I’m guessing that we might not have been the only ones partying the previous night, because in the morning, when we loaded up the bus, there was beer on the driver’s seat. At least we hoped it was from the previous night and not that morning.
By that time Dan and I were pros at loading the luggage into the bus, so I hummed the Tetris theme and we were ready to go in minutes. A few people hummed along with me. One or two others glared.
Stam.
We drove to the Hula Valley. I sat next to Erika and we listened to some Dave Matthews Band as background to Ran’s description of the huge fields of papyrus that would die in winter and which predeceased the man-made lake now sitting there. The topsoil in the area needs to be kept wet to keep producing flora and to maintain the ecosystem; this is the reason for the canals which cut through many parts of the valley. The music made it easier to pay attention.
Anyway, over a billion birds pass through the Hula Valley in migration biannually, and at any given time there are more than 200 species represented at this site. They attract tons of tourists; the Hula Valley is second only to Masada, according to our guide. Considering that would put Jerusalem in third, I wonder if the birds might be included in that count.
The guide at the bird observatory explained how the birds are given bracelets to track them and learn about their growth, migration patterns, and more about their lives. The bracelets are weighted specifically so as not to encumber the birds at all; it would be the same as if any of us humans were walking (or flying) around with a bracelet on. After showing us the process of banding one of the female birds, he allowed David to release the bird. David opened his hands towards the sky and the she leapt into the air, springing out of his hands and blasting off. Before she departed he nicknamed her Tigger.
The guide also explained how the birds migrate for two reasons. “They get food in the winter and sex in the spring.”
“Of course,” Erin commented, “that’s why we all migrate.”
Liron released this last bird, having named him Shlomo, and we prepared to depart the Hula Valley.
Next on our list of tourist sites for the day was the spiritual city of Tzfat. Tzfat, (or Safed, or Zefat, or Tzfas, or…) grew largely in the 16th century and is considered one of the four holy cities for Judaism in Israel, along with Hebron, Tiberias, and of course, Jerusalem. The main reason for this is that Judaism believes the messiah will come from this area to Jerusalem. It is also the birthplace of Jewish mysticism, Kabbalah.
Tzfat is a hugely artistic city. There is art everywhere. The artists’ colony in the Old City of Tzfat is like a well of creativity, full of galleries and displays.
Tzfat also seems to be forever under construction. It has survived a number of destructive times, both natural and man-inflicted. Strangely enough, the two synagogues in Tzfat survived it all. The 1837 earthquake that killed over 2,000 people did nothing to these houses of worship, though it laid waste to surrounding buildings. During the war with Lebanon in 2006, despite the barrage of rockets raining on the area, nobody in the Old City of Tzfat was killed. No wonder these people are spiritual.
After visiting the Ashkenazi synagogue we were brought to the famous Safed Candle store. Here, candles are made of all varieties for all occasions. They have Chanukah candle packages (each package includes a full supply to fulfill all eight days), Shabbat candles, Havdallah candles, even candle sculptures! They are all hand-made, and exquisitely so. The sculptures are especially detailed and wonderful to look at. Some of the better ones include Samson, David and Goliath, and the temple in Jerusalem.
We were given the opportunity to check out the Sephardic synagogue and free time to get lunch and mosey around Tzfat, so I went with a few people to check out the second synagogue of this city. It was exceptionally bright, with wide arched window ways and, a few feet above those, clerestory windows. The interior had barrel vaulted ceilings lined with colorful leaflet borders and beautiful chandeliers hung at the ceiling peaks. Needless to say I had an architectural experience there.
I wandered around Tzfat with Andrew and Jess checking out all the cool buildings and random artwork. When I say random artwork, I mean it was everywhere. The staircase sides were painted with colorful stone patterns, doors to electric breaker cabinets were given tropical seascape scenes, and every so often a wall would be adorned with an ACME-style “tunnel” painting – the kind Wile E. Coyote would run smack into while chasing the Road Runner. Okay, so the last may have been an exaggeration – or was it?
We were going to take some cool photos on a rooftop, but the lighting wasn’t right, so we went off in search of a better place. Unfortunately, every three seconds Jess would walk off, distracted by a bit of artwork or the angle of the sun.
“Jess… uh… hey!” Andrew called.
I shrugged. “Yeah, she does that sometimes.” I had this experience several times hanging out with her over the course of the trip and it had become expected.
“Can’t go anywhere with this girl. What is she doing?”
“She appears to be wandering around aimlessly.” That was Calvin. No, really.
“Yeah I can see that. Hey, Jess! Check this out!” Distract the distracted with more distractions. I told him I thought it was a fantastic idea. I made this assessment on the basis that it actually worked.
“Huh?” she said, still a hint of outer space in her reply.
“How about this, over here?” Andrew suggested. He was pointing down a road that was more like a well-lit alley – very cool for photographs – and next to some fun artwork on the wall.
“This works.” Jess checked out the wall and then seemed to become less distracted for a moment. Andrew capitalized on that moment and snapped a few pictures.
“Yeah, the shadows over here are great, and the lighting is at just the right angle,” he said, kneeling down and manipulating his camera.
“Go get in the picture,” I said, and took the camera from him. After I snapped one, he demanded I stand next to the wall – right next to the picture of Torah Boy – and strike a pose in my new Super-Jew shirt. He laughed hard enough to reproduce invisible cola through his nose.
It was time to eat. We strolled through art galleries and Judaica shops until we came upon a Yemenite food place. Jess promptly wandered off again in search of something else to eat. Andrew and I ate these pancake-burrito things stuffed with tomato and other veggies. They were strange but not unsatisfying. We walked through the marketplace towards the area where Ran said the bus would be waiting for us. Someone stopped Andrew and started speaking to him in Hebrew. After a couple of minutes, the man walked away.
“That was weird,” Andrew said, his face twisted in a perplexed expression that screamed ‘Twilight Zone’.
I wondered what could be so weird, and asked him.
“That guy was from Taglit; he was one of those people checking up on groups to see how they’re doing and that they’re following protocol, etcetera. But he told me, like he was publicizing it. They’re like secret shoppers; they’re supposed to stay undercover and observe, not go around flaunting it like, ‘Hey! I’m checking up on you guys!” That was really weird.”
I whistled the Twilight Zone theme until he elbowed me in the arm and said to cut it out.
Not four steps down the narrow street corridor we heard a female voice calling out to us from behind. “Hey, Superman!”
We turned, curious. A young blonde woman about my age and wearing quite the grin on her face waved her hand high above her head and flagged us down.
Andrew looked at me. “I think she means you, dude,” he said in a low voice.
“What are you talking about?” I whispered harshly. “She was probably motioning to someone beyond us.”
In answer, he pointed to my Super-Jew shirt. The white t-shirt with the bright Superman logo complete with a Chassidic hat and peyot (sidelock curls). “Oh,” was all I got out.
“Yeah, you!” she called, smiling at me.
“…Hi.” I waved. I was still rather confused. I’m not exactly used to being hailed from down the street in foreign countries.
“Where’d ya get that shirt?” she asked. “I haven’t seen it before; I like it.”
“Uh, I picked it up in Jerusalem. We were there the other day, and they were all over the place.” I politely smiled back and she kept grinning at me.
“Well… it looks good. I might have to get one. Anyway, enjoy your day. And thanks,” she said.
“You too. And no problem.” Andrew looked like one of my tenth grade student girls, ready to explode with some dramatic gossipy news, and I couldn’t stand the look of him tittering like that, so when we managed to get a few steps down the street I asked him what the hell he was giggling about.
“Dude. She was so into you.”
“First of all, I don’t think you’re right. Second of all, it wouldn’t matter anyway. You know I’m happily engaged.”
“How the heck do you do it? You need to tell me.”
“Are you kidding me? I didn’t do anything. Besides, she just wanted to know where I got this shirt. Probably just another tourist looking for help locating a gift. Big deal.”
“Locating the shirt you’re wearing, you mean. The one she’s never seen before. Right?”
“Right.”
He pointed to a clothesline above the shop to our immediate left as we passed. “Look, dude.”
Hanging on the line as a display unit for a stack of neatly folded shirts that looked exactly like it was a fairly accurate replica of the so-not-unique novelty t-shirt I was wearing. It was in clear eyeshot of where the girl had been standing about thirty yards behind us. She might have even seen it over our heads as we were talking. Reality beat insecure denial and I blushed a little. I browsed some of the shirts on my right to hide it.
“And the girl at the Dead Sea was also definitely checking you out. So what’s your secret?”
“It must be one of my Super-Jew superpowers,” I said, and chuckled.
We made it back to the group a minute later. They were all milling about so I took the opportunity to scope out the area for some more landscape shots with my camera. There was a ledge not too far away overlooking the mountains. It wrapped around the vicinity where we were standing waiting for the rest of our group. I set my camera case down and walked along the ledge until I found a good vantage point. A few good pictures later I noticed the group heading for the bus so I trotted back over to pick up my camera case and rejoin them. Unfortunately, that wasn’t happening; the case was gone.
I had left it not a minute prior right next to Avichai, Cara, and David, who were just standing around talking. They saw me put it down, so they wouldn’t have allowed anyone to just walk off with it, and besides – who would want to? There was no camera inside; only a backup SD memory card.
“Has anyone seen my camera case?!” I asked of the crowd. “It’s blue and black, about this big.” I used my thumbs and forefingers to frame out a size above my head. There were a lot of shrugs and head-shakings, but no nodding or exclamations. I took a deep breath. Well, this sucks, Calvin said matter-of-factly. Without your camera case, where is Alan going to sneak your rocks? I rolled my eyes at myself but refused to give up yet.
I told Tair I was running back to find my case, figuring I must have left it at the place Andrew and I had gotten food or dropped it while we were browsing an art gallery. She let the other group leaders know and came searching with me.
We retraced my steps through the bustling artsy shop-filled streets all the way back to the eatery without any luck. And you can’t make fun of Sarah for losing all her stuff on the trip anymore if you’ve lost something, too. Sometimes my inner sarcasm goes overboard. This time, I gave up.
I sighed and apologized to Tair for wasting her time.
“Shh, you’re not wasting my time. Not everyone is on the bus yet, anyway, so don’t worry. I’m sorry we didn’t find your case.”
“It’s all right. At least my camera wasn’t in it,” I said.
“Yes, very true,” Tair agreed with a firm nod.
As we boarded the bus, David asked me if I’d found my camera case. I shook my head no and shrugged. What are ya gonna do, ya know?
“You missing your camera – eh – holder?” Avichai inquired in English, with a little effort.
“Yeah. No big deal,” I said. “It’s okay.”
“Is this it?” He held up my camera case. You’ve gotta be kidding me.
“You found it!” I exclaimed, the utter shock slowly being replaced with a grateful grin.
“No, bro, I want to make sure no one take it, so I bring it with me. It was on the ground.”
He had picked it up when I went to snap pictures. He was taking care of it for me; he just forgot to let me know that he was doing so. Alanis Morissette, eat your ironic heart out.
I sat down and sighed.
“So that was your experience in Tzfat, dhe birthplace of Jewish mysticism and a very artistic place,” Ran said. “Hopefully you got something spiritual out of this, or a souvenir.” The laughter took the edge off feeling like an idiot after the camera case episode. Half the time I wondered if Ran knew he was being funny, and that made it even funnier. “Our next place we are going is the beautiful city of Haifa, which is where I live.”
About a half hour into the trip, I heard an amusing thing behind me on my left side. From Hannah’s dry, intellectual voice was spewing the most directly brash and insensitive diatribe I had ever heard – and what’s more, it was brash and insensitive diatribe I had heard before.
“Is Hannah reading Tucker Max?” I asked across the aisle, and Jess and Anna, who were sitting with Hannah, nodded excitedly. “Win,” I pronounced.
She read emphatically until she was laughing too hard to continue and had to pass it on to one of her seatmates.
“Hello everyone… wakie wakie! I want to tell you a bit about Haifa. Haifa is the place where the only subway in Israel is. It is mostly Jews living here, but there are also Muslims, Christians, and Bahá'ís – the newest religion of them. Haifa is like Israel’s San Francisco and a center of pride for coexistence. Oh, and I live right over there beyond that grayish building off in the distance.” He pointed off into the cityscape and we disembarked.
Haifa is a rather large city. It’s actually the third-largest city in Israel. As we meandered along the sidewalk, we could look to our left and see it sprawl out beneath us.
The Bahá'í terraced garden surrounding the Shrine of the Báb in Haifa is its main tourist attraction, and once I saw it I knew this was not subjective speculation but undeniable fact. It is one of the most beautiful man-made locations I’ve ever seen. There are many tiers of grass bordered by various bushes, flowers, and trees, and two paths running straight lines through the gardens all the way to the bottom.
Exclamations of awe rang out when we approached.
“It’s incredible!”
“Whoa.”
“Check this photo out!”
“Yeah, this place can turn anyone into a professional photographer in seconds,” Andrew said, and he was right. It was both attractive and inspirational.
Ran let us wander around and snap photos for several minutes. Then he called us together and led us through a quick and weaving path to and up a set of stairs. “Go sit down over there for a minute, and Tair has something for you, but first our very skilled speaker, Robby, has a few words for you guys.”
We were seated on a tiered ledge before a park. Robby sauntered out in front of us and made a speech thanking us for celebrating his birthday with him in Israel. He must have said a few too many words, or perhaps we were running behind schedule, because Ran suddenly cut him off. “Okay, it’s over! Thank you, Robby!” he said. “And now Tair has something for you all.”
Tair handed us postcards and told us to address them to ourselves so that we’d know what we were thinking in Israel at that moment in a few months. “Just say anything you have on your mind right now. It can be a few words, or a paragraph, or whatever. This is for you.”
When our notes were all scribbled, she collected them. Something poetic poured from my pen to the page before I knew what was happening. See? I told you the place was inspirational. I’d transcribe it here but I haven’t received it in the mail at the time of this writing.
Another brisk walk through the streets took us to a small shopping center replete with eateries. There was an Italian bistro, a yogurt bar, a coffee shop – even a McDonald’s. Curious to see if the menu at McDonald’s was any different in Israel, I followed a smattering of our crew into the restaurant.
“Man, this place is definitely more expensive here than it is back in America,” I noticed.
“I don’t care. I need McDonald’s now.” Sarah was apparently on a mission for Mickey D’s, and nothing would stand in her way.
Alan was scratching his chin, his brow furrowed inquisitively. “Hey,” he pondered aloud, “Does McDonald’s have a Shekel Menu here?”
We all cracked up. “That would be awesome!” someone said.
Should we tell him that there are roughly 3.8 New Israeli Shekels to the American Dollar? Calvin asked.
I’m sure he knows that, I replied. Pretty sure, anyway. We have been here for ten days, now.
Amused by the conversation but certainly not interested in the food, I fled the fast food joint and traipsed around the shopping center until I hit the coffee shop. I gave an internal shrug and walked in.
Blaire and Jen were about to eat some huge and tasty looking cheese sandwiches. As I took a picture of them preparing to enjoy their food, Andrew walked into the shop. “Hey, man, are you getting anything?” he asked, making conversation.
“Nah, I’m good until dinner I think. Plus I have a couple of snacks in my backpack on the bus.”
“There’s some really good stuff here, though.”
“I hate coffee, man. I can’t stand it.” I looked at the menu and didn’t see any coffee-free beverages listed. Of course, it was entirely in Hebrew with no English translation in sight. That may have slightly impacted my inability to perceive any drink I would appreciate.
“I hate coffee, too, but I actually like some of the coffee here. It’s the only place in the world I’ll drink coffee.” Knowing that he was a flight attendant working on becoming a pilot, I could easily calculate that the number of places he might be able to drink coffee outnumbered the places he would at a staggering ratio. I factored this knowledge and the fact that I trusted him into my consideration and decided I would try a sip of their coffee if it was available. “Tair,” he said. Tair had been in line ahead of him.
She turned.
“Can Garrett have a sip of your coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.” She offered her cup.
I took a sip.
“Okay,” I demanded, “what kind of sorcery is this?”
A grin lit up Andrew’s face. “I knew it! It’s good, right? Isn’t that weird?”
“I am officially freaked out, now.”
“Yeah, totally, I was too when I first tried it. I’d be getting some right now if I didn’t think it a dangerous idea for me to have caffeine.”
“So what did you order, then?” I inquired.
“It’s like a limeade, but different.” There were green leaves floating around in it, and after trying a sip I realized they were mint. It was basically a virgin mojito, and it was really tasty.
I glanced back at the McDonald’s across the shopping center. Doing so brought a question to mind. “Does McDonald’s close on Passover here?” I asked. I assumed that since the breading on their nuggets and their buns for their sandwiches had to be chametz (leavened bread products forbidden during Passover) their shops would close in an effort to save money. I was wrong.
“McDonald’s actually goes kosher for Passover here,” Andrew replied.
I pondered this, thunderstruck, until a couple of minutes later it was time to board the bus again for our trek to Tel Aviv. I remember very little of that ride because I took a much-needed nap.
When the bus stopped, Ran said to drop our things off and meet up for dinner. “After dinner we will get together for a little closing activity. It has been a wonderful trip and we’re going to end it with a climax.”
Dan’s reply was loud enough for the whole bus to hear him. “I love ending with a climax!” Everyone giggled.
The hotel at which we arrived a couple of hours later, called the Kfar Maccabiah, was several things the other places we stayed during the trip were not:
First of all, it was big. Really big. A huge glass façade with a rotating door entrance led into a vast lobby. The lobby was very open with an exceedingly high ceiling. The rooms were spacious with the most comfortable looking beds we’d yet seen.
Secondly, the place was shiny. We had stayed in decent places before, but this was different. In the States it would be like going from an Econolodge to a huge Sheraton.
Finally, and most importantly, it was different from the other places we slept because, nice though it was, we would not be sleeping there. We would be leaving at around 1AM for the airport.
Joe, Stern, and I lugged our suitcases to our room and quickly showered. We figured we had just enough time before dinner, so when we got to the lobby everyone had already found their way to the main dining area. Naturally, the three of us got lost on our way there but when we arrived we ate a fine meal with fine friends. There was some really good lemon cake (among other tasty delicacies) for dessert.
With dessert finished, we met in – you guessed it – the bomb shelter. “Hey, there’s a bomb shelter here, too!” Lindsay exclaimed.
“You know what that means,” I said as we sat down.
A few people answered at once, “Party!”
Everyone gathered in the well lit room, which was just big enough to accommodate seats for us all.
“I don’t think this group likes to party very much,” Tair began. We all rolled our eyes and chuckled. No, of course not.
When she had our attention, Tair explained before anything else, that there would be a survey for us in our e-mail when we got home.
“This evaluation helps the people who make these trips happen make them better. There might be more than one – for Taglit-Birthright, for Israel Outdoors, for the Charlotte Community trip. Any help you give is good, because this is how they change things.”
A question was called out. “What changes?”
Ran answered, “We change guides, sites, and other things based on these evaluations.”
“Like bus drivers?” A few laughs.
“Do you change breakfast?”
“Breakfast in Israel will always be the same,” Guy called back. A few more laughs.
“In a moment we will do some thank yous and say what moment we felt the most connected here or what meant the most on the trip. But before we do that I want to give you—”
“Our instructions,” we finished for him. In unison.
“Yes,” Ran laughed, “your instructions. So we shall gather in dhe lobby with our luggage at one o’clock. We will get on the bus and we will thank our bus driver who seriously drove us safely all over the country.”
The laughter that followed Ran’s little humorous announcement turned quickly from nervous to raucous. Then he thanked our Israeli companions for staying with us. “Thank you for taking ten days off your army or your work,” he said.
Matan was so enthused he stood up to reply. “ANYTIME!”
He quieted us down and allowed Tair and Andrew to each thank the group in their own ways. They were both very heartfelt and made us proud to have such wonderful staff. As Andrew said, “The fact that nobody slept on this trip says a lot. What an amazing group.” We really felt like we had become a family over this trip, and Tair and Andrew helped bring us together. Tair was so touched she started to cry, and so did a few of the crew that was only listening. But Shai’s speech really rocked us.
He asked Guy to translate for him so he could speak freely in Hebrew, and Guy gave us the most direct translation possible.
“As you all know, my name is Shai.” Ha, ha. “I’ve been on a lot of trips with a lot of groups. I never knew such a family as this. To each and every one I became very connected. Thank you for being great for the past ten days. Stay in touch with me because I love you and I will keep loving you.”
There was a collective “aww!” and many hugs after Shai’s speech. Then everyone who wanted to spoke about their connections to Israel.
When Joe stood up to speak on how he connected on this trip, Erin leaned over to me before he started and said, “I think he connected to the land too many times.” Poor Joe. He was a total trooper.
Tair wrapped the discussion up by passing out our shirts – the ones Paul designed. They were Carolina blue with the Taglit-Birthright symbol on the front and a stylized political map of Israel on the back. The map had all the places we visited with a trail dashed out along the path we took. Right above it was the Queen City logo enclosed in a Star of David. We were officially the Charlotte Jew Crew, and we had the shirts to prove it.
We wore them outside into the lukewarm night where we took our final group pictures and said goodbye to those who would not be flying home with us. Cara and David decided to extend their trip and visit Greece; Emmanuel and Tair would be staying for a few more days; and obviously our Israeli friends would be remaining in Israel.
It was a very huggy moment. We took some fun pictures of specific groups; we got one of the staff members, one of the Israelis, and one of everyone who suffered mishaps on the trip. From left to right, top to bottom: Hannah (got left behind briefly in Tel Aviv), David, Joe (fell down a huge sand dune in the desert, lost his passport, nearly got hit by a bus), Sarah (lost her camera, her flip-flop, her sunglasses, and found a cockroach in the Jerusalem hotel bathroom), Jess (had her luggage lost for her by the airline only to have it doused in coolant on the bus when she got it back), Allie (kept falling down in weird places), Robby, Jeff, Blaire (also had her luggage soaked), Laura (whose finger was hurt and then infected so she had to meet us at the desert tent long after we had arrived), Marc (got stung by something like jellyfish drool and had quite the birthday), and me.
I felt extra connected to these people. I was there waiting for Hannah to come back so I could write her first words on catching up with the bus down verbatim. I was there with the group checking on Joe when he fell down the mountain and I walked with him down Masada. I stopped discussing religious philosophy with my Frenchman friend to help when Sarah came screaming out of the bathroom because of the cockroach. I high fived Jess when she finally got her luggage back and went to the Laundromat with her when she, Blaire, and I found our clothes soaked on arriving in Jerusalem. Marc was one of my first roommates in Israel and he and I went through the first several mishaps together.
It had only been ten days, but it felt like a lot more. We reminisced for more than a few minutes before reluctantly trudging back inside. Still, we were determined to have fun right until the end. Everyone packed their bags and slowly started gathering again in the gigantic lobby area.
By about 10:30 PM there were a solid twelve or thirteen of us hanging out in the lobby. We were nursing a few drinks and just relaxing through our final hours in Israel, talking and enjoying the company. I passed around my second notebook – the one in which I had everyone write their fondest memories of the trip or just say something from the heart – and Joe decided not only to write but to perform his story. By the time he got to the part about checking himself over and giving a thumbs-up at the bottom of the hill, we were all cracking up.
But alas, it was time to go. We munched a little snack of tea and cake in the lobby before loading up and boarding the bus for the last time. Most of the Israelis walked with us out to the bus to say goodbye one last time. I said goodbye to Matan, Noy, and Liron, who had been tons of fun. I hugged Rotem and Lital who introduced me to Israeli pizza. I thanked Shai again, though he’d be accompanying us to the airport, for taking care of my toe and for being an awesome dude. I saw Guy still saying his goodbyes to a few people so I located some more bags to load up. I noticed a couple of people had received gifts from the Israelis – artifacts from the IDF, keepsakes – and really appreciated just how strong a bond can become in so short a time. These were good people, my people, and I was proud and happy to call them mishpacha, family. Ohana, if you’re a Stitch fanatic and still stuck on those Disney references from Day 9.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned.
“Garrett,” Guy said.
I smiled. “Hey, Guy.”
“Have you gotten anything from the Israeli army yet?”
“I bought this necklace in Jerusalem,” I said, holding up the Magen David enclosed by a mock dog tag with the Hebrew initials for IDF strung around my neck.
“Ah,” he said, chuckling, “I meant like this.” He held up a medallion for me to see. On the side facing me there was an emblem of some sort. It looked like a set of wings, but one side seemed mechanical. There was more to it but I couldn’t make it out in the dark. “Can you read this?” he asked, turning it over and placing it in my palm.
I struggled through with my less than mediocre Hebrew phonetic skills. “Tach… tachnit…. talf… talpiot?”
“Tachnit Talpiot. It’s a program I was in for three years, and I feel it fits you a lot. It’s very like your personality. Each curve on this design has a meaning, and I will tell it to you. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Thank you, Guy. This means a lot, bro.”
“No problem, my friend. Achim.” Brothers. We hugged and he turned to say goodbye to Erika. I stepped onto the bus.
If you think the story ends there, you’re crazy.
I got stopped at the airport by security on my way to the counter because my passport looked nothing like me. When the photograph was taken I was a teacher at a high school. Because I’m still only twenty-three, (twenty-two when I’d started), I had longer hair, slicked back, and had grown my beard out to increase my perceived age. It worked well for me while I was teaching at a school in chilly upstate New York. Knowing that Israel was going to be exceedingly warm in comparison I had shaved my beard and cut my hair a week before the trip. Doing so cut off more than hair; I had lost between four and eight years of age from my face.
“Do you have another form of identification, sir?” the woman curtly inquired.
“Well, yes, but I look the same in my driver’s license, too.” I shoved my hand into my pocket and retrieved my license for her.
“What’s your date of birth?”
I ran that off for her.
“What color are your eyes?”
“Brown.”
She frowned. “Are you sure you don’t have another form of ID?”
“Was that the wrong answer? I’m pretty sure my eyes are brown.” She was still looking at me. “Yes, I’m sure I don’t have another form of identification. I’m really sorry I don’t look the same with facial hair.”
“One second, sir.” She walked off and returned a short while later with a piece of paper. “Would you please sign this?”
I signed it. She compared my signature on the paper to that on the licensed and the one on the passport.
“Okay,” she finally said, “you can go on ahead.” She gave me my documents and allowed me to proceed.
Naturally, for the next half hour, everyone in the crew was coming up to me asking me why they stopped me. Of course I had to show them my passport picture as answer, and of course they reacted with laughter. “That looks NOTHING like you!” was the inevitable response. If it had looked anything like me, why would they have stopped me? Calvin silently mused.
Aimee took forever to load her suitcase onto the weigh station because she had suddenly become accommodating. She was letting everyone and their grandmother cut in front of her.
“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be Aimee, she of the glare that can cut you in half,” I asked.
“Yeah, this is so not you,” agreed Andrew. Paul silently concurred.
“I don’t know. Anyway this thing’s kind of heavy.”
A few minutes later, she discovered it was actually too heavy; she needed to rearrange some things to make it flight-worthy.
“Kind of? Aimee, what’s in there?” Andrew asked.
“I think she hid Matan in there,” said Reuben. “He decided to come with us via Aimee’s suitcase.”
After a while we had everyone together and we made it to the gate. I had three people sketch pictures on a blank dreidel I had brought with me as a keepsake while we waited at the gate for the plane to arrive. Erika drew the Tree of Life. Paul drew an amazing rendition of the Lion of Judah. Jesse drew a pretty flower. Andrew drew a strange werewolf-esque character. That will make for some really creative dreidel game rules.
Also interesting at the gate was the fatal error Alan made: he fell asleep on the floor with his shoes still on.
Someone had a permanent marker. Alan awoke having no idea why people kept photographing his face.
Everyone boarded the plane. I don’t remember much of the flight to Zurich, where we transferred, because I was passed out for most of it. I woke up just in time to take some cool pictures of the Alps as we flew over them prior to landing.
On the transatlantic flight back to New York the real fun began.
The kosher food was (slightly) better than it had been on our flight to Zurich ten days prior.
On the other hand, the Swiss Air flight attendants were more blatantly disdainful of us. They shoved the food and beverage carts down the aisle with the force of a battering ram. It seemed that their intentions might actually be to take off an arm or two from our party, because they kept ‘bumping’ into the same people. When they served food, one of them even kept her middle finger out around the front of the tray while the rest of her fingers rested underneath it, serving Alan, Andrew, Jess, Joe, and me an extra bird with our meal.
Their only saving grace, according to some of the gentlemen in our crew, was that some of them were attractive.
“I can’t decide if she’s trying to hurt me or if she’s hitting on me. Literally,” Andrew pondered aloud.
“Maybe both?” I suggested.
His voice took on a faux threatening tone. “If that flight attendant accosts me one more time…”
“You’ll ask for her number?”
“…yeah,” he admitted.
Among all the hilarity that ensued on the plane, some of which I cannot recount here because it was just too funny for words, there was a bit of melancholy infused with all the joy. Every now and then I would start to space off, and regardless of what song might be playing in my mp3 player, I heard the same lines repeating in my head: Don’t fly fast. Pilot, can you help me? Can you make this last? This plane is all I’ve got so keep it steady, now.
We made more memories in ten days than I thought possible for a whole month. I can’t imagine what the trip would have been like with different people – it was our crew that made the trip so much more amazing than anything else it could have been. .ו לישראל לחיים למשפחה
To life, to family, and to Israel.
-------------------------
There were many things that people didn’t want to forget, and I had asked the crew to write them down in my notebook before we left so that they wouldn’t forget them. These are direct quotes from the Moleskine:
How much has carved truth from ancient stone? What has grown with you like trees of truth?
How much will become sweet airplane dreams? What will keep on growing with you?
Will anything remain just as it now seems?
Ask yourself these questions. I know my answers.
I have these brilliant vistas etched upon my beating heart – living, pulsing photographs of a ten day state of mind transformed.
So I can tell you that the landscape of our journey,
From the canyon depths to the very clouds that rarely dimmed our skies,
Will be true to me forever, etched upon my beating heart.
These aren’t exigent questions of life, or death, or God, or fate.
But they are carved from ancient stone, and they grow on the tree of truth.
--Garrett
I don’t ever want to forget the connection I feel to Israel and my own Judaism.
--Erin
Meeting cool people and learning how to trust people again.
--Joe
Meeting amazing people and being with them in this beautiful place with friends. The feelings I got here, feeling so spiritual.
--Sarah
Always having a place to belong.
--Alissa
Meeting a group of strangers that instantly became family. Seeing this beautiful country that opened my eyes to a whole new world. Having my bat mitzvah with the love and support of my new family.
--Jesse
Meeting new people who are my family now; coming together and not feeling bad about our religion like what can happen at home; visiting holy places full of history of our people. And most of all, feeling as one with everyone around me and like I belong.
--Laura
Meeting and becoming close to a really great group of people and seeing history firsthand, especially since I may never get another opportunity to come back here.
--Marc
I don’t want to forget the joy of floating in the Dead Sea.
--Danielle
Watching and being a part of the transformation in people’s lives. Connecting with new faces and developing true friendships. Beatboxing with Garrett while kayaking down the Jordan.
A swim near a waterfall
A prayer at the Western Wall
On the bus, bustin’ rhymes
DMB in 6/8 time?
Can’t control the kayak
Crazy current out of whack
Pullin’ out the pen and pad
Best times we ever had.
--Andrew
Having the trip of a lifetime, seeing Israel in a way I may otherwise have never done; meeting some amazing people; learning more about my culture and heritage; and being able to do all of this with my future husband was truly a blessing.
--Raegan
Arriving at new realizations about my politics and my Jewishness. Getting a glimpse of a new path my future may take.
--Eli
Connecting to an amazing group of people and feeling that I’ve known everybody for years in such a short period of time. Love you all!
--Rotem
I’ll never forget the feeling I got after praying at the Western Wall. For the first time ever, I felt like God must have heard me. I will also never forget any of the friends I made while here. I am sad to leave, but eager to return one day in the not-too-distant future.
--Robby
Our amazing group – each person with their own interesting story, and the feeling of bonding and brotherhood I’ve felt throughout the trip. I want to remember each and every one of you – my brothers and sisters.
--Guy
I want to remember everything about this experience. I want to remember how it feels to constantly be at peace without a worry in the world. I want to remember how it feels to be completely in the moment that I’m in, like I’ve felt here. Most of all, I want to remember the people that I’ve met here. Knowing you guys has made me so happy and I never want to forget the joy and comfort that I’ve felt with everyone.
--Erika
I will never forget the amazing accommodations, wonderful food, and the smooth bus rides.
--Jessica
I will never forget the feeling of being surrounded by a group of peers with a common bond in the land of our forefathers.
--Jeff
I will never forget the friends I made and the experiences I have had. Thank you for the amazing time that we shared together. Y’all the best and I love you very much.
--Avichai
Haifa was the most beautiful.
--Reuben
I won’t forget you and the group. During these ten days I knew new family and you’re one of them. I was happy to be around you. Enjoy the rest of your life as you know to enjoy it. Love and miss you.
--Shai
I will never forget how, thanks to you, I feel now more connected to Israel. You are more than welcome to come back to visit or make Aliya. Love you all!
--Lital
Wrapping tefillin at the Wall.
--Alan
I don’t want to forget…
The amazing openness the group showed the day before Yad Vashem and in the rose garden discussing our place within Judaism and Judaism’s peace within us. I don’t want to forget waking up at 5:45AM in a Bedouin tent in the middle of the Negev and witnessing our entire crew snuggling like one gigantic family (despite the Netherlands losing the World Cup to Spain) – so quiet and peaceful, at home. I don’t want to forget games of Scrabble on the bus, “pretzelling” with my seat-buddies on the bus to find the optimal position for maximum comfort levels. I don’t want to forget the ridiculous amount of wine consumed in ten days – another bottle, another set of awesome memories of the day’s activities rehashed and relived to be set into our minds for a long time to come. I don’t want to forget the feeling of my heart so filled with excitement, love, friendship, spirituality, and joy. It’s hard to put into words, but it’s rather like my heart is exploding with happiness, radiating warmth through my body and mind. I feel at home with these new friends in this magnificent place and cannot wait to come back!
--Jess
