Dancing in Israel

While I have your undivided attention, watch this video from our last night in Jerusalem on the streets of Benha Yuda. Those are Hassidic Jews dancing to their music with militia ready to reign in any over abuse of free speech.

Prelude to My Trip to Israel

Is it Peace or Hate? (Picture from JPost.com)

I’m rather ignorant about world affairs, I prefer it that way…usually. You’ll see incidents in my blog where I just simply don’t know my shit. Why not just read more CNN, catch up on the latest quotes from our great President, or simply watch the news? Cause to me, it all seems like a big lie -- something made up to steer the publics beliefs -- and as much as I love a good drama, I will get myself totally caught up in believing what I read or see. I’ll get angry, sad, and frustrated in the world and in the fact that I can’t do anything about it. So I stay ignorant, but will dabble into the news here and there so I don’t sound dumb.

I know enough news to know that my pending trip to Israel could be dangerous. So I go on YouTube and find out how Israeli culture is today. First video I find is rather ominous, Three Days in Israel. The comments are what really kills me: “Absolutely beautiful.. This video has made my day. Maybe if they gave back the land they stole, many of them would still be alive.. Fuck Israel” This wasn't exactly what I was hoping to view, especially prior to my trip. The clip set that intensely depressing tone you just don't want to have before a 14 hour flight. Well, I continue on my search in YouTube and find a link to someone who has taken the time to really show how the news is represented to us from Pallywood…that’s Palestine’s Hollywood. The clip is 10 minutes long… really take the time to watch the whole clip if you would like a different view in to the news.

Those 2 videos were enough for me to handle, so I searched more on YouTube for something lighter. This time I really want to get the culture. Nothing too impressive to share, but I saw some footage of people parasailing, street biking, and clubbing. Maybe the Israeli’s are just like us Americans? I soon find out that they are...in so many ways…

Oct 18^th - Wed

I arrive in Tel Aviv around 5PM from NYC. My company sent me to Israel to work in their Jerusalem office and had a driver at the airport to pick me up. Shoosh is her name and she is really nice, speaks great English, and drives like an Israeli. No, she did not have a gun. The airport is about 30-45 minutes from my Hotel room in Jerusalem. The highways are well lit with multiple lanes, like America… actually better than any other country I have been to. (I’ll have to blog about my trips through Europe and my drive from California to Costa Rica at another time.) The Israeli’s have no concept of ‘stay-in-your-lane’ driving techniques. They prefer to drive from one or two lanes to another, wherever the car or road takes you. For that reason alone, I would NOT suggest anyone to simply rent a car in Israel and drive to your destination… nor would I suggest a bus, per the “Three Days In Israel” clip above. Taking taxis or having personal guides/drivers is a must. Having your job pay for it all is a plus.

In Jerusalem, I am staying at the Prima Royale. A lovely quaint hotel that lacks a gym or pool, but gives you 2 bathrobes in your room… um, ok. The “queen” bed is a farce and really is 2 twins pushed together, each made with twin sheets and covered with a queen duvet. Um, ok. What was really cool about the Hotel was the breakfast of fish, pastries, canned fruit, cereal, juices, and really truly best of all: a live pianist. I felt like I was in Schindler’s List. (music is directly from movie)

That night a couple of co-workers came and picked me up for dinner. James is a co-worker from the US who arrived earlier that day. Ofer is our head engineer in Israel and has offered to take us out to dinner. I’m in heels because I don’t know what to expect. We leave the Hotel and I soon realize heels was a poor choice. Ofer says we are walking for 10 minutes to our destinations. 10 minutes turned into 30 over stone walkways. We passed Ben Ayuda and some other parts of the city until we reach Sami. James and I wanted something authentic to Israel and boy did we get it. A nice pita over-flowing with juicey skillet fried whole pieces of chicken parts, like hearts, livers, tripe, and meat. This is called the Jerusalem Mix(ed), created during the War to use up all the parts of an animal to feed everyone. It was good, tasty, but a hell of a lot of food! I instantly had a Jerusalem Brick in my stomach. (That’s a pun only understood if you know that Jerusalem is required to have every building built from the same brick, Jerusalem Brick. The sidewalks too, hence the broken heels and the beauty that is Jerusalem.)

Oct 19^th – Thurs

I felt like shit. That Mix really is not moving and my body is hating it, this on top of all the flights to get to my destination. Do NOT eat a Jerusalem Mix your first night in Israel… duly noted. I had to work on this day and met most of the 15+ engineers/programmers in Israel. We eat Hummus for lunch…as the main course. I really wanted to keel over and die, instead we work until about 8PM and decide the best course of action is to drive straight from work (in my heels AGAIN) and go to Tel Aviv for dinner and clubbing. In Israel, Thursday night is the US equivalent of a Friday night…it is the end of the work week.

(No bombing when I was there, but an image to walk into the situation.)

In Tel Aviv, we eat a delicious meal at Brasserie -- it’s open 24/7. Almost every good restaurant and bar is open 24/7 in Tel Aviv. Being there is a time warp. I’m not the partier I once was and my bell rings at midnight the latest to usher me home. In Tel Aviv, my bell is muted and all I hear is “Want another drink?” After the Brasserie we visit several bar/clubs, none of which I can remember their names. We also drive to Jaffa to check out the scenery. When we decide to head home, I’m wasted, James is literally doing cartwheels on the sidewalk, and it’s 4:30AM. Thank the-god-you-believe-in we had Ofer as the dedicated driver to take us home.

Oct 20^th - Fri

OK so my alarm is really annoying. I have a headache the size of Dubai and I have to run downstairs to meet James and our guide at Noon. Crap, I wish I had something to eat or drink first. Jaime /ha/ Pronunciation Key[hahy-mee] is our guide for the day. He probably has been in the guide business for 30 years and teaches younger guides the way of the business. I think he believes he owns Jerusalem. So James and I begin our class for the day, hung the fuck over, dehydrated, starved, but totally willing to learn. First we drive to an overlook next to Mount Scopus to view the desert.

We learn why the land of Israel is called “Milk and Honey”. Honey because Jerusalem sits on a hill where rain and clouds still form, and vegetation grows to allow bees to make honey. Milk is for the desert because that is where the shepherds take the goats and sheep to graze, and the people get their milk from. Jaime continues to talk, we continue to starve.

The next location, Jaime demands we shut our eyes and trust him to guide us to a point where we will see a “magnificent view”. Don’t cheat now…keep your eyes closed. Oh and watch out for that step. Thank the-god-that-you-worship I was smart enough to finally not wear heels… besides they are broken by now. Open your eyes and voilla…

Hee Hee… Ok I sorta am kidding with you. See that gold dome in the distance? That’s the Dome of the Rock at the Temple Mount in the Old City. We were looking at that, the City of David, and the Jewish graves just below while standing on top of the Mount of Olives:

We sit here for 1.5 hours… HUNGRY:

And we listen about all the history of the Old City. I can tell you everything, but the pain of the memory of sitting in the sun, here, hungry, thirsty, listening, and listening is way too painful for me to recall. Here’s a good site to check out on your own. I’ll give you some highlights as we walk through the Old City itself.

We drive the Mount of Olives on a skinny curvy 2 lane road to see where Jesus hid from the Romans and touched the rock he cried on when he found out his friends were lame. The church that houses said rock also has the oldest olive trees supposedly dated back when Jesus himself picked from the trees. They look old, but 2,000 years old…. Hmm, OK.

I forgot to mention that this day was the last day of Ramadan. When on top of the Mount of Olives, we were able to see lots of little black figures surrounding the Temple Mount of all the Arabs praying. Our guide was some what stalling us from entering the Old City (and eating) because access was limited due to the number of Arabs there praying. We finally are close to the Old City gates and stand overlooking the Mount of Olives from the opposite hillside. I’m infatuated with the Church of Mary Magdeline. But I’m really taken away with the sounds of prayer reverberating in the valley (that voice you hear is Jaime talking and talking and…)

Finally, 2 hours later we are in the Old City! The first stop the ornate Armenian Church! No not food, what were you thinking!

There are 4 quarters in the Old City, the Armenian quarter being one of them, where they have built an inner city with walls for their citizens to live…within the walls of the Old City. The public walkways of the Armenian section are filled with reminders of the Genocide in 1915.

I fell in love with the absolute over the top decorations of the church and feel of the Armenian quarter, and James and I were starving. So we forced Jaime to eat in the first restaurant we saw. It was downstairs, serving Armenian dishes, with wonderful handcrafted jewelry in cases all around us. Jaime did not look happy. He wanted us to eat hummus at his recommended location. We couldn’t eat hummus again nor walk another inch for the garbanzo bean dish. Armenian food is similar to your average Middle Eastern dishes, with lots of meat choices. I had some Armenian Pizza with a bunch of little nibblets to scoop up in my super thin crust with just tomato bits. James had some goulash thing with meatballs and greens, it was tasty. Jaime had plain broth soup with a dumpling like side dish made of ground beef in breading. I wanted all the gaudy jewelry that surrounded us and the mini-swords or huge knives decorated with jewels. I resisted, cause there was no need for $180 bracelets…right? Did I fuck up here?

Anyway, we were satiated and ready for more learning. We walked down the outdoor shops, but with Jaime there is no time for shopping. I felt like we were in Oblivion passing some mid-evil citizens as they sperm through the crowds getting to their next egg. The walkways were straight and long, the owners were yelling at you to buy, and we could have been lost for hours, but Jaime wanted us to continue on with the tour!

Mind you, it’s the end of Ramadan and the Arabs are closing their shops to prep for their festivities. And the many sects are getting ready for prayer. We happened to arrive at the Holy Sepulchre right on time.

We spent at least 2 hours in the Holy Sepulchre. Without going into much detail, I will give you the bullet points of what you can see/touch/feel in this building:

• Climb up the stairs built on top of the walk Jesus Christ took with his cross
• View or pray at all 13 stations of Jesus’ steps of being crucified
• Processions of various Christian sects praying to and for Jesus Christ
• Touch the stone where Jesus’ dead body laid in preparation for burial
• View all the mosaics, paintings, and carvings of the varied crucifixion scenes
• Enter the burial building of Jesus Christ, the Edicule
• See a piece of the stone of which the apparition of an angel sat to tell all that Jesus has risen
• Enter the burial cave of Jesus and the location of his ascension
• Touch the stone that covered his tomb
• Touch the Naval of the Earth – this is a Jewish belief – I have a funny story about this below
• See old tombs from days of Christ
• See the location of where 3 crosses were found and all said to be the crosses when Jesus was hung, 2 for thieves and 1 for you-know-who.
• View behind glass the blood of Christ spilt on the rocks and remains to this day
• View behind another much bigger glass of the huge cracks in the rocks from whence the lord was angered because of the hanging of Jesus Christ!
• See and Touch the black resin from the fire that instantly sparked on the pillar at the entry of the Holy Sepulchre
• And much, much, more… including but not limited to architectural history and divisions of sections due to battles of pieces of the Church

Did you know that the key to the doors of the Holy Sepulchre is owned by an Arabian family? They are the only persons that can open and lock the doors, and do so daily.

Oh, my funny story, I nearly forgot to tell you. So, as you know Jaime owns Jerusalem and there is no reason for him to follow any burdensome rules of respect and religious authority. To make us Americans look ever so American, Jaime talked while processions prayed next to us. Then he took us into a roped off area just opposite the doors to the Edicule, where he can talk to us more and makes me feel uber uncomfortable. The comfort level was lost because a procession came down from the crucifixion location to pray to the Edicule and then turn and pray to the room where we were “learning”. Damn Americans! I’m partly about to puke and partly listening to Jaime when he says, “…And here that black stone wrapped around in Jerusalem Brick, that there is the Naval of the Earth… touch it, go ahead.” Um…OK. My hand swelled up the rest of the day and blood oozed out of my fingertips…or at least it felt like it did.

Leaving the Sepulchre was a relief, we can now see more of the Old City…2 quarters done, 2 more to go, and about 6 hours have passed. Off to the Jewish Quarter and the Western (Wailing) Wall. But now that the sun has set, it is Shabbat, and there are some very strict rules for the Wall.

Rule 1: To put a wish in the wall, you must have written the wish prior to Shabbat.

Rule 2: No video or pictures during Shabbat.

Rule 3: No women allowed in the synagogue next to the Wall during Shabbat

James and I broke Rule 1, James broke Rule 2, and I wasn’t about to enter a synagogue anyway.

My wish was for everyone worldwide: PEACE AND LOVE FOR ALL

Apparently, that won’t come true since I broke Rule 1.

The Wailing Wall isn’t as intense as I thought it would be; I didn’t see any crying, but the Orthodox Jews on the male side (yes, male side. The men get 2/3rds of the wall to pray to and ladies the rest.) they were singing with bibles in one hand and the other hand raised in the air as they jumped up and down.

It was time to go home, absorb all this new information and sleep off my ever-present hangover. The day felt like work, and I needed a rest because tomorrow involves climbing a mountain…The Massada.