a full day
As we finished packing our bags to leave J-lem , we realized it was harder to close them than it was at the beginning of our journey. We’ve all been collecting treasures: spices, dried fruits, jewelry, artwork, zibben-zachen, and who knows what else… It’s been such an honor, a thrill, a joy, and a darned good time touring Israel. And we still have a week’s worth of exploring to do.
So we hit the road and headed for our first stop, a JNF forest where we were to plant trees. Actually our first stop is generally a bathroom along the way. Our group doesn’t exactly have the best bladder capacity… Anyway, we were met at our planting site by Susan Horowitz, a former member of the temple who made aliyah almost 8 years ago. Susan, by the way, sends her love to everyone back at the ranch.
It would be fair to say that no one in the group initially thought of this stop at a JNF forest as a particularly emotional experience. Planting a tree in Israel is a quintessential Jewish act. We’ve been doing it vicariously over the decades by putting coins in the pushke, collecting dimes in slotted sheets to make the shape of a tree, etc. So this time we were actually, literally getting dirt on our hands.
We arrived at the JNF forest because Steve and Reesa had planned some time ago before we got to Israel to dedicate the forest named in memory of their dad/father-in-law, Norman A. What a good idea to include all of us in that and then do some planting! Only at the forest Steve and Reesa were going to, there were no more spots for planting. So we couldn’t join them for the ceremony but we could plant in another spot.
As has been mentioned before, there are lots of tourists in Israel over this holiday season. Israelis are shaking their heads in disbelief, overjoyed that somehow a pall has been lifted and suddenly there is excitement and hope again. So their were crowds of congregations and missions at our planting spot and a Sephardic guy in a suit making holes in the ground with a planter’s pick. The scene was frenetic and exciting and just a bit surreal.
As we finished planting, we gathered together as a group to each declare for whom they planted their trees. As we assembled another congregation’s cantor began singing in a booming cantorial tenor, El Maleh Rachamim, the prayer chanted at the conclusion of a funeral. This struck me, at least for our group, as the absolute wrong note to leave the forest on. After all, yesterday we were at Yad Vashem, remembering the Holocaust. That’s a place where El Maleh should be chanted every day until the end of time. But we were here in this grove where one day our children and grandchildren will visit and long after we’re gone, the beauty and nobility of planting these trees will endure. So we remembered the people, living and deceased, for whom the trees were planted, and then said, not Kaddish, but Shehechiyanu.
The next stop for our group was Beit Guvrin, an archeological site where we had the opportunity to actually dig and find shards of pots and containers from the 2nd century BCE. A sub group formed to go spelunking, crawling on all fours through one of the many caves in the vicinity of the dig. We claustrophobes hung back, but young and old, big and small adventurers went for the crawl. As always, the meek are told what was missed, and it did sound great. We finished up with a take-out delivery of pizza and felafel to a nearby picnic grove, filled with us – and hundreds of young Israeli soldiers on their own educational field trip.
From Beit Guvrin we wound our way through the mountains as green hills gave way to the Negev, the desert region of Israel. The stark change in topography is magnificent and inspiring. The roads are steep and at points precipitous.
Outside Arad, we came to a funky Bedouin village for tourists, kind of like Storyland. Here we were greeted by the tents and the desert breeze, and the aroma of camels and donkeys. Yes it was time to mount up! What a trip!! Young and old climbed aboard (my camel glanced at my girth and choked on his cud…). To her everlasting credit, Bev H. really tried to get on a donkey. But swinging her leg around the side seemed just a bit too difficult. But it was something!
After our ride (only one near accident where apparently Eggo pulled the saddle the wrong way and we almost had a runaway TBA family), we had a great explanation of Bedouin life by a real Bedouin man. As he told us of his culture we were served sweet tea and bitter coffee (sweet like a woman, bitter like marriage, he said…?), as we reclined on cushions. Following his lecture we had a Bedouin dinner sitting on the floor. We used hands and pita and it was a blast.
Finally we boarded our bus and came to the Golden Tulip, a rather suspect ‘luxury’ hotel jammed with Israeli families on vacation. They are the noisiest assemblage of humans I have ever been around! It’s stunning just how loud and present they can be… We got here tired, happy and it’s fair to say, more cohesive than ever. Our group is just that: men and women and children of TBA who together share a common experience and celebrate it.
Tomorrow is Masada!
So we hit the road and headed for our first stop, a JNF forest where we were to plant trees. Actually our first stop is generally a bathroom along the way. Our group doesn’t exactly have the best bladder capacity… Anyway, we were met at our planting site by Susan Horowitz, a former member of the temple who made aliyah almost 8 years ago. Susan, by the way, sends her love to everyone back at the ranch.
It would be fair to say that no one in the group initially thought of this stop at a JNF forest as a particularly emotional experience. Planting a tree in Israel is a quintessential Jewish act. We’ve been doing it vicariously over the decades by putting coins in the pushke, collecting dimes in slotted sheets to make the shape of a tree, etc. So this time we were actually, literally getting dirt on our hands.
We arrived at the JNF forest because Steve and Reesa had planned some time ago before we got to Israel to dedicate the forest named in memory of their dad/father-in-law, Norman A. What a good idea to include all of us in that and then do some planting! Only at the forest Steve and Reesa were going to, there were no more spots for planting. So we couldn’t join them for the ceremony but we could plant in another spot.
As has been mentioned before, there are lots of tourists in Israel over this holiday season. Israelis are shaking their heads in disbelief, overjoyed that somehow a pall has been lifted and suddenly there is excitement and hope again. So their were crowds of congregations and missions at our planting spot and a Sephardic guy in a suit making holes in the ground with a planter’s pick. The scene was frenetic and exciting and just a bit surreal.
As we finished planting, we gathered together as a group to each declare for whom they planted their trees. As we assembled another congregation’s cantor began singing in a booming cantorial tenor, El Maleh Rachamim, the prayer chanted at the conclusion of a funeral. This struck me, at least for our group, as the absolute wrong note to leave the forest on. After all, yesterday we were at Yad Vashem, remembering the Holocaust. That’s a place where El Maleh should be chanted every day until the end of time. But we were here in this grove where one day our children and grandchildren will visit and long after we’re gone, the beauty and nobility of planting these trees will endure. So we remembered the people, living and deceased, for whom the trees were planted, and then said, not Kaddish, but Shehechiyanu.
The next stop for our group was Beit Guvrin, an archeological site where we had the opportunity to actually dig and find shards of pots and containers from the 2nd century BCE. A sub group formed to go spelunking, crawling on all fours through one of the many caves in the vicinity of the dig. We claustrophobes hung back, but young and old, big and small adventurers went for the crawl. As always, the meek are told what was missed, and it did sound great. We finished up with a take-out delivery of pizza and felafel to a nearby picnic grove, filled with us – and hundreds of young Israeli soldiers on their own educational field trip.
From Beit Guvrin we wound our way through the mountains as green hills gave way to the Negev, the desert region of Israel. The stark change in topography is magnificent and inspiring. The roads are steep and at points precipitous.
Outside Arad, we came to a funky Bedouin village for tourists, kind of like Storyland. Here we were greeted by the tents and the desert breeze, and the aroma of camels and donkeys. Yes it was time to mount up! What a trip!! Young and old climbed aboard (my camel glanced at my girth and choked on his cud…). To her everlasting credit, Bev H. really tried to get on a donkey. But swinging her leg around the side seemed just a bit too difficult. But it was something!
After our ride (only one near accident where apparently Eggo pulled the saddle the wrong way and we almost had a runaway TBA family), we had a great explanation of Bedouin life by a real Bedouin man. As he told us of his culture we were served sweet tea and bitter coffee (sweet like a woman, bitter like marriage, he said…?), as we reclined on cushions. Following his lecture we had a Bedouin dinner sitting on the floor. We used hands and pita and it was a blast.
Finally we boarded our bus and came to the Golden Tulip, a rather suspect ‘luxury’ hotel jammed with Israeli families on vacation. They are the noisiest assemblage of humans I have ever been around! It’s stunning just how loud and present they can be… We got here tired, happy and it’s fair to say, more cohesive than ever. Our group is just that: men and women and children of TBA who together share a common experience and celebrate it.
Tomorrow is Masada!
posted by rebhayim at 11:04 PM
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