Masada, the second time

In mid-March, we went to Masada with our ulpan class. Rebekah came with us and Miriam stayed in school. This trip was completely different from the family trip the week before. On the way, we saw lots of camels by the road. They're dangerous, not because they're aggressive, but because if you hit one, it's a lot like hitting a moose. We stopped several times to chase them away from the road. 

Rebekah at 100m below sea level. Note the Dead Sea in the background, far below.

We finally reached Masada. The first time we went with the family, we climbed at dawn and saw only a few other people. This time was completely different: hordes of people everywhere; guides herding their groups around, raising paddles with numbers over their heads so their groups could find them; souvenir shops selling ice cream and the famed Ahava dead sea products. We took the cable car up, reaching the top in 2 minutes, instead of the hour it took us to walk. 

Kids at Masada

Looking down at the Snake Path from the cable car

The museum is excellent, telling the story of Masada as you walk through life-size models of people in several rooms showing what life would have been like. Cases of artifacts are mixed in. The overall feel is of being there 2000+ years ago.

To escape the wind and the crowds, we went down into a giant cistern, probably 30' deep and several hundred feet long. The engineering was extremely impressive. To build it, they would have chiseled the stone and then carted it away, back up through the small holes at the top. The cistern would fill up in wet years and hold enough water for the people of Masada to live on for several years.

Rebekah walking down the steps into the cistern

Inside the cistern

After Masada, we went to Ein Bokek, a strip of luxury spa hotels on the Dead Sea. You sure can't tell from the public beach, though. It was a decidedly strange place. We ate our picnic lunch perched on the edge of a concrete wall because the sand wasn't so inviting and we didn't want to rent chairs for just a few minutes. Pop music blared from restaurant speakers. Teenage girls in tiny bikinis ran around in small groups, foreigners there for psoriasis cures lay in the sun, off-duty soldiers flirted and talked on the cell phones while walking on the beach with their guns casually hanging over their shoulders. Dead Sea salt and mud are world-renowned. Half a dozen shops sold their own brands, large stores with clean, appealing displays and saleswomen in white lab coats. The WC next door, though, was decidedly third world.

off-duty soldiers at Ein Bokek

Rebekah has promised to write about the history of Masada, so I am leaving that for her.

Another Middle East Tragic Irony

The other day, I observed something so tragic and ironic in the local news that it inspired me to share it with you. It takes a lot for a Middle East tragic irony to rise to that level, given how drenched this land is in both of those attributes. I read an article by UK comedian Mark Thomas about a walk he took along the entire Israeli security wall in the West Bank. It seems that he undertook the walk to expose the folly of the wall in particular, and the Israeli security state in general. The article is well written and is an excellent example of how to gently level criticism. Sadly, events that have taken place since Thomas’ walk have undermined the premise of his project, and suggest that the wall might not be so silly after all.

The article is at its funniest when it focuses on what Thomas describes as his “natural talent for ineptitude.” He describes his run-ins with Israeli soldiers, some of which were pleasant, and some of which were not. He successfully negotiates with an Israeli soldier how close he can walk to the wall. He falls off a mountain, gets covered with mud, stumbles into an Israeli settler demonstration, and gets tear gassed.

His project appears only to become feasible when he ambles into the Jenin refugee camp, the site of an historic confrontation between the IDF and Palestinian militants. Here he discovers a theatre run by Juliano Mer-Khamis, a famous Israeli actor. Born to a Jewish mother and an Israeli Arab father, Juliano is a local icon and Palestinian activist. His Freedom Theatre not only puts on plays, such as Animal Farm, but also runs a theatre school which encourages local youth to use art to express their frustration with their bleak situation. Thomas quotes an 18 year old student at the school as telling him "You know, before I came here, one of my life options was to be a suicide bomber. To lay down your life for your community is an honour, right? But now I know art is my weapon."

When Thomas tells Juliano about his project, Juliano immediately gets behind it. Suddenly, things don’t seem so overwhelming anymore for Thomas. He stays in a guest apartment at the theatre. Every morning he has tea with the students before setting out on his walk. Every evening he returns to an attentive and supportive Juliano.

With Juliano’s help, Thomas goes on to complete his project. He returns to England and publishes a book about his experiences. The same, however, cannot be said for Juliano. If you follow the news from this part of the world you probably already know that a few weeks ago Juliano was shot to death outside the Freedom Theatre.

The shooting did not come as a complete surprise to locals. Juliano’s plays were often critical of the Palestinian Authority. The Freedom Theatre had been burned down several times and Juliano had been the recipient of numerous death threats. According to an article in the Guardian, a leaflet circulated in Jenin after the murder asserted that Juliano had been killed because of his violations of local Islamic sensibilities.

Juliano’s murder laid bare the premises of Thomas’ walk. These are dangerous times in this part of the world. Ancient conflicts are on the loose as well as forces eager to resolve them through horrific violence. Even a simple producer of plays and educator of artists has to fear for his life. Under these circumstances, the wall doesn’t seem so silly. The great irony is that had Juliano conducted his work on the other side of that wall, he’d still be alive today. The great tragedy is that his work is so badly needed on the side where he lived. It will be a long time before someone of his stature takes up such work on that side again.

The problem with catching up

As I know you've noticed, our blogs have become much less frequent. It's not that we don't want to share our adventures with you, our faithful reading public. We do! We miss you and want you to know where we are, what we are doing, and that we are safe! We look forward to your comments and questions. We have been busy trying to learn Hebrew, traveling around, and engaging in all the usual family and domestic activities--and feeling guilty (this is the Jewish state, after all) for not being able to keep up with either our personal journals or this blog.

I am relieved to find that I am in good company. I am reading Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad with the girls. It tells the story of several hundred people, who in 1867, embark on a year's voyage to Europe and the Middle East. Onboard, there is a specific room where people gather and assiduously write in their journals. They plan to write every day about their travels and glory in the number of pages they write each night.

Sadly, most of these journals were abandoned with great discouragement when the writers got off the ship and began adventuring. Oh, how familiar! "Alas that journals so voluminously begun should come to so lame and impotent a conclusion!...At certain periods it becomes the dearest ambition of a man to keep a faithful record of his performances in a book; and he dashes at this work with an enthusiasm that imposes on him the notion that keeping a journal is the veriest pastime in the world, and the pleasantest. But if he only he lives twenty-one days, he will find out that only those rare natures that are made up of pluck, endurance, devotion to duty for duty's sake, and invincible determination may hope to venture upon so tremendous an enterprise as the keeping of a journal and not sustain a shameful defeat." But, by the time they reach Paris, one formerly enthusiastic youth dejectedly exclaims that he is "as much as four thousand pages behindhand" sees no way to catch up, briefly considers to " leave France out and start fresh. But that wouldn't do, would it?" before finally giving up.

I'm not giving up, but I'm not sure I can precisely catch up either. We're going to go back and highlight our past adventures, though not necessarily in chronological order. Starting tomorrow...

A Waste of Time in the Desert

One of the main reasons why we haven't blogged so much in the last month is that we've been busy going on trips that were largely organized by Lynn. Perhaps the most intense trip we took was one that Lynn found through the Society for the Protection of Nature in Israel (SPNI). It featured rappelling down dry waterfalls. Rappelling is a technique of lowering yourself down the side of cliffs and other rock surfaces using ropes. It's known in Israel as "snapelling," and we had never done it before, even though we come from canyon country in the American Southwest.

When we got the directions for the trip from SPNI, in Hebrew of course, Lynn ran them through Google Translator. Although this translation engine has been extremely useful for us, it does come up with some doozies. In this case, the title of the directions popped up as "A Waste of Time in the Desert." It turns out Israelis use the idiom "khaval al hazman" to refer to any extreme situation, good or bad. Literally, it translates into English as "a waste of time." The trip turned out to be anything but.

After meeting up with our trip leader at a gas station in Dimona, driving for a few hours into the desert, and going for a guided nature hike, we came to the edge of a dry river canyon where guides were set up to teach us to rappel. Since the group instructions were in Hebrew, we decided to hang back a bit and watch the others, just in case something was lost in translation. Here's Rebekah getting roped up for her first rappelling lesson.

Here she is lowering herself down onto the canyon wall. Note how she's pushing out more rope which will give her the play to lower herself down further.

Here's another shot of Rebekah lowering herself down. Lynn recalls that the guides told us the cliffs were 10 to 15 meters high.

Here she is kicking off the flat section of the rock.

She survives, with just a few scrapes to show off.

Next, it's Lynn's turn. Here she is getting roped up and then lowering herself down.




After Lynn makes it to the dry river below, it's Miriam's turn. She's all smiles, especially when she reaches the bottom.


Even I take a few turns.


Here you can see Rebekah getting ready for another run. Miriam watches. By the way, the guides did a fabulous job. It turned out that they spoke English and were eager to offer us individual instruction.


Here's Miriam lowering herself down again on a flat rock face.


All of us survive our first rappelling experience. Here we are, dirt marks on our hands, to prove we actually did it.


That night we camp out with our 70 trip-mates in the desert.


The next morning we head off into the ravine of the Nahal Rahaf.



Here are Miriam and Rebekah getting roped up for a climb down a steep rock wall that featured lots of good hand and foot holds.

Next, we rappel down our first dry waterfall of the day.

Here's a shot of Lynn going down the next dry waterfall.

Here's a shot of a guide taking his dog down the same dry waterfall.

We then zipline across a ravine to the head of a huge dry waterfall. In this picture Miriam is ziplining with Rebekah watching.

Next, Lynn and Rebekah get roped up for our last rappel of the day.

A few minutes later Miriam gets roped in.

The last drop is huge. I seem to recall the guides telling us it was 40 meters. Once I'm down I turn around and snap this picture.

What an adventure. We hike back to the car and drive home, grateful for the opportunity to see a dramatic canyon and learn a new sport.

Women's Day in the Negev

Friday I went to an event to celebrate women. I went down to Mitzpe Ramon, a town about 25 min south of us. Mitzpe's claim to fame is that it is on the edge of the Maktesh Ramon. A maktesh is an oval canyon. It's kind of like a crater, except craters are formed by impact and makteshes are formed by erosion. I'll save the geology lesson for another time (and probably Jay). Suffice it to say that "it's a maktesh, not a crater" as most people around here will remind you if you utter the word "crater." 

Cappucino, chocolate croissants and friends!

Our first stop was a coffee shop, where we met up with the group, 30-40 women altogether. I was surprised to realize that I knew about a dozen of them--starting to feel a little bit a part of this place. Almost as exciting was the discovery of the coffee shop itself. Aroma is a sort of Israeli Starbucks, except with fresh, delicious salads and sandwiches. Remember that we live in a town with only one simple restaurant (hummus and falafel stand) and a coffee store (but take-out, not wi-fi, hang out and schmooze kind of place). This Aroma is a 15-min drive from my house, has a big shady area with couches for relaxing, and is open 24/7. This is a game-changer. If we don't want to cook, or forget to shop by 2 Friday when the store closes until Sunday, we have an option!

Next we went to tour a new hotel, the Isrotel Ramon. It's very upscale, with units perched right on the edge of the crater. They say it's opening the 17th. I'm surprised they had time to give us a tour.


Isrotel Ramon units overlooking the Maktesh









The lobby in progress



Next, we went to a more bohemian setting, a part of town where former factories have been transformed into a little arts colony. There are dance, yoga and meditation studios, art galleries, two restaurants, a clothing store, even a fancy organic soap maker. A dancer led us in relaxation and free movement.

The dance studio and lounge

Another cool coffee shop!

The dance studio also host other groups. I picked up a dozen flyers, not sure exactly what they are until I run them through google translator, but pretty sure there's a Negev version of Burning Man. This afternoon, there was a group doing something that involved a lot of paint.

Our next stop was desert archery. Definitely a first for me.

The general idea

yep, we're shooting at balloons

fun, but good thing I'm not relying on catching my food this way

These women are good!

We finished with a potluck in a park.

we love the food here

My friend Ofra

All in all, a great day!

Flash Flood In the Desert

A few days ago, it rained so hard, we had a flash flood. The Nahal Zin, whcih sits at the bottom of the desert canyon behind our house, filled with water. If you follow our blog, you've seen lots of pictures of the Zin, dry as a bone. We rushed out to take pictures. We found lots of our neighbors, watching the water stream by. Some folks jumped in. Here are some pictures of the flood waters in the bottom of the Zin.

Miriam, Rebekah, and Omer love it when the desert floods.