Journal excerpts from trip IV
01/05/04
Dear ****,
It’s 8:00 am here on Monday. I missed writing yesterday but will catch up now. We began the day in דלית כרמל in a Druze village. One of them, actually a student studying for his Masters at the University of Tel-Aviv, talked to us about their beliefs and lifestyle and fed us pita bread with zatar and tea with sage (so good). He also told us about how they don’t believe in heaven or hell, just reincarnation and that if you are a good person you may merit seeing your old family again in another life. (Story of a 10 year old boy that is seen walking with his 58 year old son from time to time). While I was near a town, I found a camera shop.
“Do you speak English? I asked.
“A little.” He replied.
“בסדר. אני מדברת קצת עברית. אולי אנחנו נוכל לדבר. ”
And so we discussed my camera in my rusty Hebrew, and he filled in words for me as I couldn’t think of them. He told me he would have to open it up and look inside but it would take three hours. My group was leaving in half an hour so I could not leave it with him. I asked him about other camera’s and he held up his cheapest point and shoot. I shook my head no.
“עוד יותר טוב”.
“Ahhh!” He said. “!עוד יותר טוב”, and proceeded to show me better cameras. They were all automatic though, and I didn’t want to invest in one that I would not use again. So I said שלום to the patient camera guy and resigned myself to eating shwarma with Dave.
After lunch we biked and hiked parts of the Carmel mountains. Biking was every physical anxiety I have actualized. I wasn’t at all in the shape for it, and couldn’t even complete half of the 2 hour ride (too much uphill for someone who had not been on a bike since she was 13). I consented to riding in the security jeep that was following us, along with the kids that got injured along the way. It was really humiliating for me personally because it is exactly the kind of thing that happens every time I am tested physically ( I feel as though I fail miserably).
Riding up the mountain in the jeep however gave me an incredible view of the mountainside and I got to practice my Hebrew with מירב, our group’s security guard. Afterwards we began the hike down the mountain. It was a very rocky path with lots of small ponds and obscure plants and fruit along the way (one plant burned to the touch but did not leave a rash mark). We hiked downwards for two and a half hours and I loved it.
After we left the Carmel area we drove to a kibbutz called כפר גילדי , in Gilboa. An older woman told us the story of the kibbutz and we climbed into the hiding place where one man hid the ammunition that was used to protect the kibbutz during the war of independence. Written on the wall near the hiding place was: לא מדברים על זה.
Another Birthright group was staying on this kibbutz as well and the leader of their group was none other than Lonnie, a girl I went to Akiba with, bringing the grand total of people I know on this trip to five. Ah, Jewish geography.
They merged our two groups together for “disco” night and a DJ played Israeli versions of bad American songs while random Israeli boys sought out American girls to grind with. Dave bought me a beer and I danced for a little, smoked a clove, played some cards and looked for a way to call you and say hey. Unfortunately your number is in my cell phone which is out of charge and I do not have an adapter for the outlets here.
Anyways, once my aversion to places where I can’t hear myself think began to take over, I gave up and smoked the hookah outside with some kids. You can buy gorgeous ones on the street here for $20 ( about 80 shekel) and tobacco is also amazingly cheap. Exhausted, I soon went to bed. More later.