Physically and mentally exhausted, this plane ride seems to be going on forever. The
sun is out, over the left wing, so the glare off the clouds prohibits me from sleeping anymore. Although, in reality, I couldn’t say that I
slept much at all this flight
The bull of
a man next to me made this anything but an enjoyable flight, to say the
least. Not a bull in size, but a bull in
demeanor; his contemptuousness is overbearing, like his breath, and his
disregard for the other passengers borders on megalomaniacal. His smell is reminiscent of pastures, and his
breathing rivals the plane's engines in decibel level.
I find it unbelievable that he has the audacity to yell at the flight
attendants. Although, in his defense,
the fact that the other passengers are using our emergency aisle as a
throughway is becoming obnoxious. Something I noticed about
Israir airlines, they have a disproportionate amount of male attendants working
their planes. Maybe its just my
flight.
Later...We’re 35
minutes out of Ben Gourion, about to land in a country populated entirely by
Jews. Should be something like south florida. Regardless of the signage endorsed by the captain, I can see at least three
Chassidic Jews saying their morning prayers on the plane. Interesting juxtaposition of old school, new
school, old world, new world meets at 30000 feet.
Lastly, the
bullman next to be could be wearing the ugliest ring I’ve ever seen. Big, gold, giant ¾ inch dark rock surrounded
3 deep by tiny diamonds, surrounded by engraved gold. He’s very proud of this ring, and it is truly
suiting to his personality. God bless
the pinky ring. Also, love the outfits
the Israir staff are required to wear.
Its like willy wonka meets in like flint, and they made polyester
babies.
We land at Ben Gourion airport, and maylay ensues. 40 exhausted people all try to make it through customs and claim their baggage at the same time, all without passing out where they stand. The airport is beautifully artful and welcoming. Once we've gathered our belongings and brains, we hit the road on the bus.
Later...Not really sure what day it is. Technically, it's not day two, so let’s call
this day 1.5. We’re singing Jewish songs
on the bus…the wheels on the bus go l’chaim, l’chaim, l’chaim. Israel, so far, appears to be rural
urbania; nothing, nothing, nothing, then
all of a sudden a city pops up.
Off the
bus, we head to Jafa (or Yafo, depending on the spelling) where we can see the
foothills of Tel Aviv, and below we can see the Andromeda rock. We stand on the Zodiac Wishing bridge, where you stand at your sign and make a wish overlooking Tel Aviv. Quite a view to absorb so soon into the trip, its sets the pace for the rest of this vacation.
After the view, we head to Independence Hall where I managed to sleep
through the woman’s entire presentation until Zac hit me and woke me up. Here we learned about the declaration of Independence for the state of Israel on May 14th, at
4:00 pm, just in time for Shabbat that night.
We also listened to a recording of the original declaration of an
independent state. Pretty cool. Unfortunately, I was weak and fell fictim to my own exhaustion, missing a good amount of the presentation about Israeli independence. But I got the dates right, so somewhere I'm making a high school social studies teacher proud.
After my nap at Independence Hall, we find ourselves standing atop this tayelet (promenade) overlooking the
city. We can hear the Mosques’ calls to
worship sound over the entire city as the sun sets behind us. We perform the shehechiyanu to commemorate
the beginning of the trip. As the sun
falls behind the mountain, the city comes awake like a reflection of the night
sky above . A sprawling city set into
the valley wall, Jerusalem
is 64% Jewish, the rest made up of Armenian, Moslem, etc, etc. In the far off distance between Mt. Olive and its opposing sentinel, they
say you can see Jordan. On this, the 4th night of
Hannukah, the fire works in the distance give this festival of lights a more
jovial spirit of religious union than experienced in America; you won’t find many
fireworks displays celebrating the festival of lights. There is a true sense of belonging here. I’ve probably said the shehechiyanu and the
blessing over the wine a thousand times.
Until you’ve said it with the lights of Jerusalem illuminating the horizon, the
meaning of the prayer misses its mark.
Instilling the weight of the prayer takes reciting it where it
originated. It’s a feeling I couldn’t
have expected.
There is an
expression native Hebrew speakers use to express that they’re having a lot of
fun. It’s “oseh chayim”, an expression of great fun. But, literally
translated, it means “having life”. This
seems a good reflection of the theme by which Israeli’s live. They are constantly having live; possessing
it, as opposed to being possessed by it.
A man and his young son, as we exit the bus, approach me and say
“welcome home”, not welcome to Israel. Everyone says this, and its instills in
tourists and visitors an overwhelming sense of acceptance and family.
--
As we light the candles, the rabbi teaches us a few things
about lighting the menorah. The candles
are to be lit either by a window or a door that can be seen from the outside,
or by a door opposite the side of the mezuzah.
This is so that when a person walks through the door, the are surrounded
by mitzvah.
Our hotel,
given that its Chanukah, leaves boxes of menorahs in the lobby so that visitors
can light the candles with their families if they have not brought their
own. Chanukah is Israel’s
Christmas, it’s a relief to not hear carols every time I walk into a restaurant
or bar or store.
As opposed to catching up on our Z's, we make the mature decision to do whatever we can to score booze. As we are not allowed to leave the hotel, we are blessed with a visitor that is friends with one of my travel companions who agrees to make a run...the rest of the night is blur, but I think we ended up going to bed around 1 am.
