Something regarding Israel, again.

7th July - Wednesday
Last day of the program

We leave Dimona and start the drive towards Tel Aviv. We stop for a few last activities - mostly historical/educational stuff that most of us just can not handle anymore. I almost fall asleep at the Independence House - we have been sucked dry. I sit with Adam on the bus and we swap music.

Our last stop is Rabin Square, the place where Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated. A pretty sombre note to end on, but there's a busker playing the song of peace on saxophone, and it's kind of nice. At the bus station we all say goodbye, and Cathy is in tears. She's 6 foot 2 and the only one crying - it's too sweet.

*

We arrive at our apartment and when I find out that the "third bed" is a couch, I'm ready to kill somebody. I'm so freaking exhausted and the idea of paying $500 that I don't really have to sleep in a lounge room makes my blood boil. My anger makes me even more tired, and like a spoilt kitten I fall asleep for the night.


8th July - Thursday

Spend the morning on the beach with Tara, her sister Lisa, Yael and Daniella. While everybody works hard on their tans, Daniella and I head up to the Carmel Market where we spend a few hours. In an ethnic haze, somehow we both come away with harem style onesies - even though I swore I'd never own harem pants. When in Israel...

Felafel for lunch and then we stop for fresh lemonade where we get talking to a couple of Americans who are at med school here. They invite us to a party and Daniella gives them her number, but we never hear from them. Americans are Americans, even in Israel. There's no way two Israeli dudes would have let that go.

After the markets, an afternoon nap, then in the evening we head to the flea markets in Jaffa. We get there pretty late and it closes at midnight, so we dash around like madmen checking out the thrift and junk. I buy some crystal doorknobs from an old man ("I am happy when I sell things, and I am happy when I don't sell things").

Neta and his girlfriend Sarit come to meet us, and we all end up back at out apartment playing dice. I love that all the women have curly hair here, and they wear it.


9th July - Friday

Our morning ritual of iced coffee and beach. We pay 12 shekels for beach beds and lie there for what feels like days, while Israelis walk up and down taking orders from the beach cafe. Flocks of green umbrellas flutter in rows. I make sure to lock the image inside my mind for a time when I'm no longer here.

On Fridays the Carmel Market has an art/jewellery section, so after lunch at a cafe on Dizengoff st (where the waitress simply tells us "no" when I ask to modify one of the menu items, "because it is our kitchen, not your kitchen") we do a brief market run before everybody packs up for Shabbat. It's very strange to be in a place where the country just shuts down for Shabbat.

At the markets we meet a girl called Roni who sells brain puzzles, and she invites us to a party but we can't go because we have to get to Asaf's for dinner. Who just invites two random girls to a party after knowing them for five minutes?! Bloody Israel.

Seven of us are invited to Asaf's, so we take taxis to his house in Rishon LeTzion. His mum has cooked a feast, and we eat more than anyone should. His dad and sister are there too - it's nice to meet his family. I make some comment about how teachers all over the world get paid like shit, forgetting that his mum is  teacher. Somebody shoots me a 'shut up' look. I am the queen of putting my foot in my mouth.

After dinner we play dress ups in Asaf's army clothes, and he gives me a pair of his army pants and two of his badges. I feel like telling him I'll only take them if he promises not to die, but I don't. 

We leave for Jarryd's party at the port in Tel Aviv - Tara, Tim and I in Asaf's car. Riding on a foreign highway, Israeli wind beating me in the face, it's bizarre to be listening to familiar songs on the radio. When we arrive at the club, everyone proceeds to get drunk and dance. The music makes me want to tear out my ear drums, so I retreat outside to write a bit. What a party animal.

Outside we meet some young Israeli boys who are arrogant and obvious. They try to pick us up and act almost pissed off that their tricks are not working. They switch tirelessly from sweet nothings to insults, unsure which strategy to stick with. I've seen the likes of them a thousand times, and the typically good looking one, who is probably only used to hearing "yes", gets the shits and tells me I have my nose in the air. I think my nose is right where it belongs, and it's not my fault if they fall so far below it.

Mali has come to meet us with her friend Ben, and we go in the car with them back to our apartment. Ben has to stop and ask for directions a couple of times, and it's quite funny the way people answer him - Israeli strangers talk to each other like they've been friends for years. It's about 4am when we get home, and soon after I escape to sleep.


10th July - Saturday

We spend the morning at the beach again. Did I mention the beach umbrellas? A school of parasols, rippling fins as they swim through summer. I watch the people and think that when I am old, I want to put on stupid sandals and a floppy hat and trudge down to the water, surrounded by and unaware of bodies younger than mine.

Yael, Tim and I go to Herzliyya to meet Dalia. She takes us down to the marina for lunch, to a beautiful seafood restaurant where I feel too appreciative to mention that I'm vegetarian. Dalia gets the guy walking around with an accordion to sing happy birthday to Yael, which he makes sure to do in Hebrew, English and Russian. He makes me feel very sad.

After lunch we return to the apartment for a nap, but not before arguing with a bunch of taxi drivers about the price. We sleep away the afternoon.

We wake hungry, and taking Inbar and Asaf's advice, head to Florentin st for pizza. We find a crowded little pizza place on a side street full of bars, and sit and eat there. This whole street reminds me of New York, of being happy in the LES. I think if I could live autumn and winter in NYC, spring in Paris and summer in Israel, life would be perfect.

Tara, Lisa and Daniella then meet us at a bar on Florentin, and shortly after the rest of the Taglit crew join us. Asaf comes with some of his Israeli friends and they are nice but there is more of this friendly insult banter that I'm quickly getting over. I look at our big group and feel somewhat frustrated to be hanging out with a bunch of Aussies. I'm itching to get away, meet new people...

This city is a strange one. The smell of piss and homeless people permeates. I am tired and irritable and need some time on my own. Travelling for me is about exploring, discovering, connecting, but so far I just feel like I'm being pulled by the hand into non-adventure. I feel sometimes like I'm wasting time and missing whatever it is that's waiting for me here.

John says:
nothin to do
nowhere to be
a simple little kind of free.

Something obsessive compulsive.

OCD wins again, and I have decided to transcribe the rest of my Israel journal, even though it's almost redundant now. I don't think I'll be able to keep blogging otherwise, with that unfinished thing itching at the corner of my mind. I've been back just over a month, and if it weren't for my journal and the 40 new friends on my facebook, I wouldn't believe I'd ever been. Feels like a dream...


5th July - Monday

The last day with the soldiers. We start by "climbing" Mt Masada in a cable car - most of the boys got really drunk last night and Gennady vomits everywhere. We hang out on the top of Masada for a while, listening to Daniel tell us about the history of the place and taking stupid photos with the soldiers. While everybody goes on a mini tour, a few of us sit in the shade of the original ruins and reconstructed buildings. Adam and I talk a little bit about our shared musical tastes.

I've come to like the soldier girls so much and will be sad to see them go - not to mention Asaf, who has become like my best friend and annoying little brother all in one. We rib each other the whole day through. Yael has set him the challenge of giving us each a non-sarcastic compliment before he leaves.

Next we are taken to Ein Gedi, where we are supposed to do a short hike and then have a swim. The hike is actually about half an hour and it's brutally hot in the sun. Tzlil and I walk together and are losing our minds in the heat. I feel better about how much I hate the hike when there's a soldier next to me feeling the same way. When we finally reach the top, a few minutes behind everyone else, we are greeted with the sight of them all turning to head back down the path. It turns out that Daniel has just wanted to show us a waterfall, and the swimming hole is actually halfway back down. Tzlil and I both look like we are ready to kill somebody, and Yael laughs at my torment.

The swimming hole, when we eventually get there, is really beautiful - complete with a little waterfall and all. They try to send the men and women to separate swimming holes but it doesn't last.

Reluctantly we leave for the Dead Sea and it's nothing like what I expect. The water is HOT, like a bath, and supremely uncomfortable. Floating on actual chairs is pretty amazing, but I can't spend more than five minutes in the water. My skin starts to feel scaly and weird.

All day Inbar doesn't swim, which makes me realise that no matter how beautiful the woman or which side of the world she was born in, we all have our insane insecurities.

Tonight we're staying in Dimona (Asaf: Dimona? It's like someone took a big shit in the middle of the desert), and on the way we stop in a park so that the soldiers can talk to us about how the program has affected them, and we can talk a bit about how they've affected us. When we get to Dimona we say our goodbyes and Asaf tells me quietly, "you're the smartest girl here". I think that's his compliment. I don't know what he tells Yael.

As soon as I get to my room, my head hits the pillow and I'm out for the night. Not even dinner can rouse me.


6th July - Tuesday

I spend most of today sitting out the activities - I am beyond exhausted and even more contemplative than usual. When they take us to ride camels I consider doing it for a moment, but it's more because I'd feel like an idiot for passing up the opportunity than because I actually want to. I decide to sit in one of the Bedouin tents instead, and spend the time talking to the two rabbis and to Inbar.

Inbar tells me about why she can't dance or drink this year - she is mourning. We talk a bit about it and I can see the tears under her sunglasses. Have you ever met one of those people with such golden hearts that light just shines out of their faces? I have known only two or three. They make the world brighter.

When the others get back from the camel rides, we sit and listen to a Bedouin man tell us a bit about how he lives - that he is not Jewish but he is Israeli; that the way he lives means there is no hospital nearby; that there are camels instead of cars - he is funny and insightful. Maybe it takes a simpler life to master these simple qualities.

Then to Kibbutz Revivim, where we eat the vegetables they grow there, and make our own pita bread. I abandon Marc for a little while on the bus and sit with Joel, who is leaving early tomorrow. Joel has been an exercise in learning for me - he is one of my favourite people on the program and the complete antithesis of everybody I'm friends with back home. He's Jewish, plays football, works for Coca Cola, goes for daily runs, and has $400 Prada sunglasses. A lesson never to judge too early.

At night everybody wants to go out for a drink, so our very accommodating rabbis try to find us a bar. Because we're in Dimona, everything is closed, so they take us to an all night supermarket where everybody (except for Yael and I, it seems) buys alcohol. I spend some time on the walk over talking to Margarita, who I really like (really is underlined in my journal), and then Adam and Joel. When we get back to the hotel most everybody gets very drunk, and I retreat into my mind and the computer. I spend two hours making a blog post and then the Internet crashes and I can't post it.

Sleep.

Fallout Boy says:
why why why won't the world revolve around me?

Something's missing.

Now that I'm back, I'm not sure if transcribing the rest of my travel journal is redundant. My OCD tendencies are telling me to finish moving my words over to this digital format, but I'm not sure. Any of you who would read it probably already know about the rest of my trip...

I feel new, and it's not wearing off. After mum picked me up from the airport, I drove home and the shops and clubs that litter Oxford St looked like familiar sores on an ex-lover's face.
I'm committed to moving to a better part of the world.


Here are my legs.


Photo by Simon Taylor.