"Only in Israel" Moment: Shomer Negiya

I was just settling into my seat preparing for the long bus ride from Jerusalem to Bat Yam when a religious woman across from me leans over and asks in Hebrew, "Would you like to sit next to me? I don't want to sit next to a man."

Just as some background to this encounter, it is Halacha (Jewish law) that males and females are not allowed to have any physical contact unless they are married or immediate family, and even they should not have contact in public. This concept of being Shomer Negiya, is one that is followed to varying degrees amongst the Orthodox groups. The most religious are not even allowed to sit next to the opposite gender, as in this case.

I have complete respect for those who are Shomer Negiya, particularly when it comes to romantic relationships. Being able to form and develop relationships based purely on how they interact and how their personalities mix and not on the physical aspect is commendable and I believe it creates much stronger bonds than today's modern day relationships.

Though I respect their decisions to live in this fashion, I do believe not being allowed to sit next to another man is a bit excessive.

Yashar L'Chayal

On numerous occasions in the last few months I would see something that I would dubb an "Only in Israel" moment because in my eyes it's a small example of what makes Israeli society and culture unique and what sets it apart from life back at home. Today I got a very special opportunity to examine what I believe to be one of the most defining elements of Israeli life- the Israel Defense Force -צה"ל

Several years ago in reaction to the most recent Lebanon War a non profit organization called Yashar L'Chayal was started to provide what you may call humanitarian aid to units in the Israeli army that do not receive outside help or donations. They give something as simple as fleece jackets for chayalim (soldiers) on border patrol bases where in the winter it can drop to temperatures below freezing at night or baseball hats for chayalim training under the hot sun in the desert for hours at a time. It is basic supplies such as thermal underwear, jackets and hats that the IDF can't afford to get for them but can make a world of difference. The stuff we were giving out that day were actually donations from my uncle and his sons who have been giving generously and consistently to this cause for the last couple years.

I visited three bases, all serving very different purposes and housing very different units, yet all equally in need of help. The first we went to was a naval base in Ashdod that is home to the patrol boats that safeguard the waters all the way from Netanya (slightly north of Tel Aviv) all the way through the waters surrounding the Gaza Strip. The chayalim who join Daburim (the patrol boat unit) work some of the longest and hardest hours in all of the IDF and receive zero to no recognition for their efforts. During our discussion with a captain of one of the boats he explained that unlike other units, their entire lives are on this boat. When they are not on their 3 day patrol out at sea, they are sleeping and eating on the boat and cleaning it for two days in preparation for their next 3 day shift. For three years, their lives revolve around this boat and the 11 other chayalim who serve alongside them. It was hard for me to grasp that soldiers who are going out on the water for extended periods of time in which they have to weather all types of conditions such as icy waves and extreme winds would not be provided with the proper clothing. This is where Yashar L'Chayal steps in and today brought them dozens of sets of thermal underwear. As a sign of gratitude they gave us a framed picture of a patrol boat with a plaque thanking "Mishpachat Maschler".

Our second stop was to the border patrol base in charge of guarding Bet Lechem (Bethlehem), specifically Keva Rachel (Rachel's tomb), and the surrounding areas. Upon approaching the base we arrive at a Palestinian village whose entrance is drowning in signs warning away all Israelis, prohibiting the entrance of Israelis and reinforcing that it is strictly under the control of the Palestinian Authority. As we pass by the signs and I wonder "What the hell are we doing here??" I finally see our destination as we turn in front of a fence draped with the camoflage netting of the army. There we met with the Rasar (quartermaster), who quickly ushers us into the Chadar Ochel (dining room) and in typical Israeli fashion begins force feeding us a huge lunch of soup, chicken, fish, rice and countless other side dishes. The interesting story behind this officer was that after 6 years serving at and essentially running this base, today was his last day and he was waiting to hear where he would be reassigned and what his new position would be. The soldiers of this base were part of the police but under the command of the army (somewhat confusing, I know). Like the Daburim, they also get no outside help and so Yashar L'Chayal has helped them on multiple occasions, the latest installment being a delivery of fleece jackets.

After touring the base we made our way over to Keva Rachel. As one of the holiest sites in Judaism, it is an extremely popular site for people to visit, in an extremely unfriendly Arab neighborhood. Years ago, in order to safeguard visitors from sniper fire and other unpleasant surprises from the locals, Israel made the decision to build a huge concrete wall surrounding the road leading to Keva Rachel. It is an intimidating trip and one that only emphasizes the gravity of the situation and the seriousness of these soldiers' work. Outside Keva Rachel we gathered with some of the soldiers to take a picture with the new fleece jackets.

Our final stop was a base a little deeper in the West Bank in charge of monitoring the activity of the surrounding Palestinian towns. Approaching this base, I realized that we were making a steep ascent up a mountain. The change in elevation was only confirmed when we walked out and were immediately hit by a blast of cold air and strong winds. To put it plainly, this base was a shithole. With units rotating through here every 6 months, they have little incentive to improve upon it and make it more liveable. It was a huge step down from the last base where the Rasar made it his goal to beautify the base with plants and fences and other random decorations and amenities. We had a chance to talk to a few of the soldiers, ask them some questions about living conditions and what their jobs entail here. They do some scary work. Every time they go out to patrol, they wear the cumbersome bulletproof vest, equipment, helmet and gun. There were intense looking tanks parked in one corner in the event they have to drive through one of the more populated regions. We went to one lookout point and were showed the house of where a terrorist was holing up before they caught him. The building was in plain eye sight of the base. It was incredibly fascinating but, not going to lie, a little scary.

It was an incredible day and I look forward to having this opportunity again. It is mindblowing to think that the existence of the State of Israel rests on the shoulders of a bunch of 18 year olds. And as fantastically insane this concept is, it has become an inherent part of Israeli society. I no longer think twice when my bus from Be'er Sheva to Jerusalem is made up mostly of young men and women in uniform. I no longer jump when I see a boy my age with a gun slung over his shoulder at a wedding. Unlike in America where soldiers are only something you see on the news and have no part in our daily lives, this culture of required military service plays a powerful role in defining Israel's identity. Children grow up watching older siblings head into the army, knowing that they will one day do the same. Immature 18 year olds fresh out of high school leave the army grown up and more prepared for the rest of their lives than Americans of a comparable age.

Israelis are given the nickname of "sabras" for a reason: the army may toughen them up on the outside, but they still remain genuinely good people on the inside.

Monday = Shuk day

A shuk is an open market where local businessmen and farmers sell fruits, vegetables, bread, nuts, spices, etc. It's always crowded and chaotic with haggling shoppers and the loud competing shouts of the stand owners. Popular shuks in Israel are Machaneh Yehudah in Jerusalem and Shuk HaCarmel in Tel Aviv.

Here in Arad, the shuk is open once a week, which means Monday is shopping day!! Though we still get most of our food from the supermarket like in Bat Yam we now get all our produce from the shuk. Shuk shopping is so much fun!!

We each bring an empty backpack that very quickly get filled with 4 dozen apples, 2 dozen oranges, a dozen bananas, pomegranates, pamelos, kiwi, a dozen tomatoes, 2 dozen cucumber, eggplant, zuccini, onions, potatoes, celery and more.

In addition to hunting down the booth with the best combination of price and quality we also have fun picking out (and tasting) more unique tables such as the nuts and the olive buckets.

It's a really fun experience and one of those things about Israel that you can't really appreciate by just visiting for a week. It's one thing to buy a loaf of bread at the shuk for lunch and another thing entirely to but food for an apartment of seven people for the entire week.

There's no place like home

"Home" can mean a lot of things to a lot of people. Though I have always lived in the same apartment all my life until this year, I have found many homes. Back in the States, home was my apartment in Kew Gardens and my grandparents' apartment in Bayside. During the school year it was Bronx Science and during the summers it was Sprout Lake and Tel Yehudah. Now that I'm in Israel I have new "homes". For awhile, home was a small run down apartment in Bat Yam. For the next couple months, it's a slightly bigger apartment in the middle of the desert in the city of Arad. But more importantly I know that I also always have a home here with my aunt's family in Maale Adumim.

It's hard to be away from my parents and sisters for such a long time, particularly now that
winter vacation is starting soon and with it comes the arrival of families visiting their kids. It's at times like these that I actually listen to my mom's advice: "Go to [Aunt] Karen's. Hang out with the kids, listen to them fight, argue with them a little, eat some food, you'll feel better."

And so this past weekend I stayed in Mitzpe Navo, my favorite place to spend Shabbat. Mitzpe Navo is the religious neighborhood of Maale Adumim. There is no thru traffic which means on Shabbat, no cars drive by. A lovely consequence of this is that when people are not sleeping and eating (granted that is what I do the majority of the time), families or groups of friends are strolling up and down the street enjoying the Shabbat atmosphere. This weekend, all the cousins were home. This also meant that so were all their friends. The open door policy of the neighborhood (where essentially no one ever locks their door so friends and neighbors are constantly just walking in to come and chat) is put to the test at my cousin's house. Either they are very popular or very centrally located (or both) because the whole neighborhood seems to stop by to chat, to drink, to eat or to just say hi. It's an incredible sight to see every cousin plus 3 or 4 or 5 of their closest friends all sitting around the table at the same time singing and joking around.

And then of course there's the food. My cousin Yona sums that up nicely: YUMMMMMY!!!!!!

Karen: thanks for opening up your home and letting me make it my own for these nine months.

What do you like about Shabbat? What do you like about Shabbat?

If you've ever been to a Young Judaea camp on Friday night you may have heard the song/chant "What do you like about Shabbat?" to which each person in the circle replies with what they enjoy most about this day. This week I would have been hard pressed to choose one thing above all the others because it was one of the most satisfying Shabbatot I've had since I've been here.

As I said in a previous post, I made sufganiyot Friday night and schnitzel for the section wide pot luck dinner. Seventy-something Year Coursers crowded into a small classroom in the school to eat what resembled a Friday night meal. Though the dinner itself was very short and not very filling it was nice to see that most everyone had made a point to dress a little nicer. Without being given specific instructions, girls had put on skirts and dresses, guys were wearing collared shirts and kippot. It was also nice to see how most everyone had made an effort to cook something and make some contribution to the meal.

That night, in wanting to keep with the spirit of Shabbat, my friends and I bundled up and went for a Friday night walk through Arad. We ended up on the outskirts of town (not hard to do if you walk for longer than 15 minutes) and decided to be a little adventurous and go out a little ways into the desert. The view in front of us was straight out of a sci-fi movie. The sky had a few clouds in it but was otherwise very clear with more stars shining than I have ever seen back at home. There was a stretch of flat rocky land that ended in a slight incline. We couldn't decide whether we were walking on the moon or should be expecting an alien to jump out from the canyon to our left. Though only 40 yards in from the city, it was eerily quiet and mysterious, as if we had left our own world and ventured into the unknown.

Saturday morning I woke up late to the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. Tal had woken up real early to make a big Chanukah breakfast for everyone. We were all treated to pancakes (including one that spelled out each of our initials), scrambled eggs, oranges and israeli salad. After a leisurely morning our apartment decided to continue exploring the surrounding area. We packed some snacks, water, put on our sneakers and hiked out of Arad. We ended up leaving via the industrial zone, though not especially scenic still very interesting. It was incredibly windy so after hiking up a particularly steep hill most of the girls decided to head back. Ilana and I decided to take the long way home by making a huge curve around the bottom of Arad and entering back into the city on the opposite side. It was so much fun just scrambling up rocks, strolling along and stopping when we found an interesting plant or rock and just enjoying what the Negev had to offer. Our "walk in the desert" ended up being over 3 hours long but it was such a pleasant afternoon, I can't wait for the opportunity to do it again.

After an apartment havdallah, I cooked a dinner of israeli couscous and sauteed vegetables (along with the latkes that Jess had made earlier that day). That night Garin Tzedek organized a big bonfire for any and all Year Coursers in the section (ironically it was in the same exact spot we had been the night before). Even though it was incredibly windy we eventually got a fire started and it was just nice to stand around the warm fire talking and joking with the others in our program.

It was a very good day.

Sufganiyot?!?!?!?!?!

This year is all about trying new things and having unique experiences. Although this is something I certainly could have done back at home, I decided this would be a good time and place to try making sufganiyot from scratch. And so I woke up bright and early Friday morning at eleven and spent the rest of the day making the dough and frying sufganiyot, (with a brief break half way through to allow the dough to rise during which time I made a quick batch of my zatar schnitzel for the pot luck dinner our entire Year Course section would be having that night.)

A few setbacks/highlights of the process:
- discovering I had bought a different type of yeast than what was called for in the recipe
- spending the next 1/2 hour researching online how to properly use the type of yeast I bought and how much of the new kind of yeast should be used
- finding a warm place to let the dough rise (I eventually settles on using the floor next to the space heater in one of the bedrooms)
- trying to figure what I did wrong and why the dough was so sticky
- filling up a pot of oil and waiting for it to boil
- plopping the first blob of dough into the oil
- soon after realizing that first blob was way to big and the inside would never cook
- one of my roommates remembering a trick to place the dough in small flat disks and allowing it to expand in the oil
- another roommate suggesting coating it in sugar and cinammon
- taking the first bite and knowing it was all worth it
- all of us helping to make room on the plate for the next batch by eating them while they were still mouthwateringly hot
- most importantly.... not having any leftovers even the batch made enough servings for more than twice the number of girls in our apartment

HAPPY HANUKAH EVERYONE!!!!

When in the Negev...

When American tour groups come to visit Israel, there are a set list of mandatory activities that need to be done in order for it to be considered a legitimate trip. (Note: this list may vary depending on the length of time spent in Israel.)

As the tour bus heads south from Jerusalem, the group gears up for a "taste of the Negev". This means a stop at a Bedouin tourist tent for dinner and perhaps a camel ride if you're lucky, a hike in Ein Gedi or another random wadi in the desert, and a quick stop at the Dead Sea.

And yet, no matter how many times I've done all these things, I still have fun with them. Wednesday night my entire Year Course section went to Kfar Nokdim (one of those touristy Bedouin places I was talking about). A guy dressed in a costume talked to us about Bedouin customs and history as we say on cushions being served coffee and tea by some other employees in costume. From there we had a wonderful traditional Bedouin meal of rice and lamb and pitot and salad. (Less traditional were the plastic cups and forks that were brought out with the food but it's always important to accomodate your clientele.) Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to put down the evening, it was very enjoyable with good food and good conversation. I just felt out of sorts, since I am now living in Israel and participating in the day to day activities of Israelis and here I was at one of the biggest tourist hot spots in the country.

Today's siyur was even more fun than last night though it had a similar touristy feel. In the morning we went on a 3 hour hike in the desert, climbing up a cliff, walking along the ridge and then walking back down through the canyon below. I love hiking in the desert. Last summer when I was on Young Judaea's Israel summer program, Machon, I went on a 4 day hiking trek in the desert that was by far the highlight of my summer. The views are always breathtaking and the terrain keeps you on your toes and always interested. I have always found it extremely amusing when the bus drops you off in what seems to be middle-of-nowhere desert and then all of a sudden you see a random metal ladder scaling the length of a cliff. You can't help but wonder who in the Israeli government got the luck of landing the job of deciding where the ladder or rope or stair would go in the seemingly endless expanse of desert. Enough of my random musings....

This was definitely one of my favorites out of all the hikes in the Negev I've ever been on. It wasn't particularly strenuous but it was an adventure with a fun mixture of rock climbing, metal ladders, ropes to scale up slopes, snaking curves at the base of the canyon and vast expanses of rocks on the ridge. The weather also cooperated. Winter is definitely the time to hike in the desert. With the combination of cool air in the shade and in the canyon and the heat from the sun when at the top of the cliff it was all around a very pleasant experience.

After the hike we drove to the Dead Sea where those without excessive cuts and bruises went into the water. My friends and I, already well aware of the pain all the salts and minerals can inflict on skin as battered as ours, opted for the mini mall with all the spa stores. Very fun walking through an entire mall of stores like Ahava and trying all the samples.

Though I felt more like a tourist in the last 24 hours than at any other point since I've been here I'm still so happy I got to do all those "cliche" touristy things again.

It's all relative...

Prior to moving to Arad, we would hear our friends from the section who lived here previously making comments such as "I don't live near anybody" or "It's a ridiculously long walk to the mall from my apartment". Coming from Bat Yam, where everything was easily accessible by bus, we were all considerably worried about the prospect of living extraordinary distances from each other, not to mention the staples of Year Course: the Ulpan (school), our volunteering spots, the supermarket and the bar.

After one day and two walks around town it was clear that our fears were unfounded and the last section of Year Coursers were either incredibly sedentary people who disliked walking or simply had no skills at measuring distances. My apartment, which was considered "far" from the merkaz (center) and mall is a 7 minute walk if I'm going at a brisk pace and 12 minutes if I take my time. The Ulpan, where we take classes is quite literally a 1 1/2 minute walk from our door, and the one good bar (which is considered to be on the opposite end of town is a 15 minute walk if I'm strolling along.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that:
a- Arad is ridiculously small. Everywhere I walk, no matter where or when, I will without fail pass another Year Courser in the street. Nothing is more than a 15 minute walk away...including middle-of-nowhere desert.
b- Distance is all relative. My apartments in Bat Yam and Arad are comparable distances from their respective supermarkets/malls, however in Bat Yam I most always took advantage of the bus. Here I walk. It's a nice change of pace.

It's been less than a week but I already know that I'm going to love living in Arad. (I just wish my bedroom was a little warmer at night).

Myth Busters: Negev Edition

When someone hears "desert" they immediately associate it with words such as "hot" and "dry". It is my sad duty to inform you that within the first 24 hours of my 3 month stay in Arad, both these assumptions were proved wrong.

Last night was the first time I wore my ugg boots on this trip and all of today was immensely overcast with a persistent drizzle.

Welcome to the desert in the winter!!

From the beachs of Bat Yam to the sand dunes of Arad...

Yesterday was Moving Day! We packed our bags, cleaned our apartments, said goodbye to Bat Yam and moved to Arad, a small town 40 minutes from Be'er Sheva and a 1 minute walk to the middle of nowhere.

Because of my late arrival into the program I only got to spend a month and a half in Bat Yam. I had finally put real sheets on my bed only 3 weeks before we had to leave. I really loved living there. Our apartment was very close to the Ulpan (where our classes were held), a 10 minute walk (or more often 2 minute bus ride) to the mall and Super Dush (supermarket), a half hour stroll to the beach and boardwalk and an equal amount of time to the Tel Aviv central bus station.

I thoroughly enjoyed my volunteering at the elementary school. On our last day, me and the other volunteers gave the two english teachers pashmina scarfs and chocolate chip cookies (that I had baked the night before). The teachers also gave us scarves, as well as a cute certificate for our work, a magnet tiger and chamsa key chain. We promised to come back to visit and to come see the 6th grade English play we had been helping with over the last couple weeks.

The Garin Tzedek volunteering was also very rewarding. Even though it took awhile to get things set up and we only had the opportunity to volunteer a half dozen times each visit was unique and rewarding. You could always see how grateful the students and Adam (the teacher) were to have us there and how much of a difference we made. Both student and teacher learned so much from each other. The Sudanese obviously took away a lot of English from our conversations but I feel I left with something even more valuable. Through their broken English, their behavior, mannerisms and interactions with us and each other I was able to gain a small glimpse into their lives. Their past, their present and their hopes for the future. It was disappointing to have to say goodbye as I felt that I was just beginning to build connections with individual students.

To finish off this post I would like to use a time old YJ tradition...

Top 10 things I'll miss most about Bat Yam:

10. The emaciated kitten gang that lived in front of my apartment
9. Bus passes and the buses they were used for
8. Being within walking distance of a beach that you can swim in in the middle of November
7. Japanika/Cafe Joe/Cacao/Aroma
6. Having a supermarket called "Super Dush"
5. The toaster sized oven that we kept on top of our heater
4. Having to squegy the shower room multiple times after each shower so as to prevent flooding into the hallway
3. Being just a quick bus ride away from Tel Aviv
2. The Scouts
1. THE BAKERY ON ELI COHEN THAT MADE THE BEST (AND CHEAPEST) BOUREKAS AND RUGALECH AND BREAD IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!!!!!


BAT YAM WAS INCREDIBLE!!!!

Tsofim Tiyul

This weekend was our last in Bat Yam and with the Tsofim (Israeli Scouts) who live with us as part of their shnat sherut (year of service) before they go into the army. And so over 50 of us piled onto a bus Thursday night and headed to Kibbutz Tzora (the kibbutz of one of our Tsofim).

When we got there we immediately started cutting up carrots and potatotes and onions and zuccini for our dinner: poyka. If you have never had poyka I strongly suggest you try it. Essentially, it is a huge combination of vegetables, meat, a form of grain and a sauce composed of anything you have lying around, the entire concoction is then cooked over a fire for a couple hours in a poyka pot (like a cauldron). Some of the sauces that were dumped in together into the pots included but were not limited to: tomato sauce, duck sauce, wine and coca cola. It was deliciously yummy, definitely worth the long wait. What was so much fun was how each of the pots tasted slightly different because of the variations in sauce combinations.

The next morning we took a short hike up the mountain behind the kibbutz to where we were going to go for a bike ride. I like bike riding. However, when it's on an extremely rocky and bumpy dirt road, your feet can't touch the ground when you stand on the bike, and it is a lot of up and down hills, you don't have as much fun as you hoped you would. I fell multiple times and twice scraped up and cut the same knee. The helpful guide wrapped it over and over in one of those gauzy bandages that made my scrape look like a very impressive battle wound.

When we returned to the youth house that we were staying in we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing, playing games and talking. Early evening we attended Kabbalat Shabbat, which consisted of our entire group plus around six kibbutzniks. (In case you didn't already know, kibbutzniks are mostly secular.) After services we made hamburgers and kebabs for dinner. As an evening activity we did some Israeli dance with some members of the kibbutz. After that the Tsofim ran a small oneg that was like mini maccabia with various games and challenges for the teams to compete in.

Around 2am we were getting ready to go to bed, in our sleeping bags and everything when the Tsofim decide that since it was our last weekend together we had to have a dance party. So the room we were sleeping in was magically transformed into a dance floor with a disco ball and strobe lights and the mattresses became excellent material to jump on.

The next day was very laid back with nothing very substantial besides a tour and peulah about the kibbutz. It was a fun bonding experience for our section and a final chance for us to spend time with the Tsofim.

Peace in the Middle East: a pretty sound bite or possible reality?

This Tuesday I went up North to visit Kibbutz Metzer and the Arab village of Meiser. The theme of this week's siyur (trip) was coexistence and our guide explained that Metzer has lived peacefully with Meiser and the surrounding Arab villages across the road on the other side of the green line. From what we learned, Metzer and Meiser have a "very special relationship" though I am unclear about what that exactly means.

We heard a presentation from the Educational Director of Meiser, walked along the green line and then sat through a second session, this time with the secretary of the Kibbutz.

Saied describes himself as an Israeli Arab Muslim Palestinian. In his speech and in the Q&A that followed he spoke about his family background as a Palestinian, his conflicting loyalties to the country he lives in and the people he is a part of and his hopes for the future. I walked out of the session feeling frustrated. This man would be considered to be one of the more open minded of those on the Palestinian side of the conflict and his audience equally as open minded and yet I couldn't help but feel a hopelessness for the future. Our viewpoints and ideas for how to achieve peace are so infuriatingly different it gave me a new appreciation for all politicians and leaders and peace makers who have ever sat across the table from Palestinian leaders such as Arafat and successfully fought the urge not to strangle him when he spoke. The following are a few examples of things that were particularly urksome to me:

- While he several times reiterated his loyalty to the land he lives in, he is strongly against any type of national service. Israeli Arabs are excused from military duty because of the possibility of a conflict of interest that may arise. However, they don't do sherut leumi (national service) instead, and are actually strongly against it because of the programs ties to the army.
- When asked how peace can be achieved he said both sides must compromise. When pressed further he said a compromise for the Palestinians would be to accept the pre-1967 borders and well...for the Israelis to compromise on everything else.
- When asked if he would remain in Meiser if a Palestinian state were created he said he would. But later on he said that all Jews would have to leave this Palestinian state. Something of a double standard.

Perhaps it was just that we were all extraordinarily tired that day but it wasn't a very interesting siyur. It mostly left me feeling fairly depressed about any hopes of a lasting peace in the near future. It just seems the more I learn about the Arab-Israeli Conflict and the problems in the Middle East in general, the more complicated and hopeless the situation seems.

Druze Weekend- Part 2

And so my story continues...

We woke up Saturday morning to a delicious breakfast of pita dipped in olive oil and zatar, and fried omletes. The rest of the day was a blur of alternating between walking around the village and hanging out at Nahed and Tomador's houses.

A few highlights:
- We climbed up a rickety wooden ladder onto the roof of Tomador's house. From this vantage point we were afforded a stunning view of what felt like the entire Galil. Directly below us we looked down upon the winding roads of Yarka, crowded with cars and the continuous explosion of fireworks. Beyond that were rolling hills and the neighboring villages. In the hazy distance we were able to see as far as Haifa and the Mediterranean.
- I learned how to make Arabic coffee. Nahed was an excellent teacher and guided me step by step through the process of spooning the coffee into the small pot and then alternating between stirring and holding over the fire. After last weekend I promised myself I would by such a pot and the accompanying tiny cups before I go back home. Best coffee ever. Seriously.
- We visited several more sites in the village including a cemetery and the outdoor courtyard where they gather after someone has died.
- I rode a horse around the town square. (I don't know whether I was more terrified of the fireworks or more scared the horse would become terrified of the fireworks.)

It was less what we did together but the implications of the weekend. Here we were: four American Jewish girls in a foreign country spending a weekend in a strange village with people we had barely met. And despite the unorthodoxy of how we came to spend the weekend together, we all left it feeling that we had been friends for years instead of mere hours. It's difficult for someone like myself who grew up in New York City to not be utterly floored by the level of hospitality and warmth we were shown at every house we visited. Nahed's and Tomador's bubbly excitement at having us with them was so infectious that I suspect I didn't stop grinning the entirety of the weekend.

They're already asking us when we are coming back to visit. We're asking ourselves the same things.

Druze Weekend- Part 1

Disclaimer: No matter what I write in the following post, it will not do my visit to Yarka justice because it is impossible to put into words how incredible the weekend was. And on that note...


If you recall several weeks ago I participated in a siyur (field trip) up to a couple Druze villages near Acco to get a taste of their culture. One element of that trip was to meet with teens at a Druze high school. Before leaving that day, I had exchanged phone numbers with several of the girls I had befriended. Shortly after, I received a call from one of them inviting me up to stay with her for a weekend. After an extensive game of phone tag, canceling and rescheduling it was decided we would go up the Friday after Thanksgiving in order to be able to celebrate their holiday of Eid al-Adha.

Some background on this holiday: it is a Muslim holiday, the only one in fact that the Druze also celebrate. It is to commemorate Ibrahim's willingness to sacrifice his son Ishmael as proof of his devotion to the Lord. Just like in the story of Akedat Yitzchak in the Torah, Allah sends down a sheep to be sacrificed in Ismael's place. During this weeklong celebration, it is traditional to grill lots of meat as tribute to the sheep that Ibrahim sacrificed. It is also the custom to wear your nicest clothes and go visit the homes of friends and family. On a similar note, hospitality which is already a vital tenet of the Druze faith, is taken to the next level on this holiday. Food is out on the table for guests at all hours of the day. Every home is open to you and you are ushered inside with open arms. Large gatherings of family and friends is expected.

My friends and I left Bat Yam early Friday morning. We took a train up to Akko and from there a bus to the Druze village of Yarka. As we got off the bus we were met by the deafening sounds of multiple explosions. Terrified at first, it took me a moment to recall something my friend had warned me about, and I had conveniently forgotten to mention to my friends. Fireworks, the prefered form of celebration by the younger generation. Fireworks could be heard at all hours of the day from every corner of the village. Children as young as four of five years old could be seen in the streets setting off these explosions. The sounds would alternate between a simple deafening boom and a series of shorter blasts that sounded chillingly like a machine gun. Some kids, mostly older boys between the ages of twelve and sixteen, seemed to get a perverse pleasure out of scaring groups of girls (such as ourselves) by setting off fireworks dangerously close. Please don't get the wrong impression. Yes fireworks are of course dangerous but no one ever got hurt and the majority of those who set them off did so responsibly and with the sole intention of participating in a key tradition of the holiday. For example, my hostess's little seven year old brother couldn't have been more excited about the fireworks. Not knowing any English or Hebrew, he would walk up to me and say, "Hi Laura! Boom, boom, boom!", and then look at me expectantly until I followed him down to their front steps and watched from there as he would set off a firework in the driveway.

But I digress....

Nahed, my Druze friend, picked us up and brought us to her house where we were promptly presented with a table filled with nuts and fruits and chocolate to eat. After relaxing and meeting her family, we made our way over to Tomador's house, the girl with whom my roommates Melanie and Ilana would be staying. After more food, me, Tal, Melanie, Ilana, Nahed, Tomador and one of her cousins walked around the village. They showed us holy sites, the stores with the best shwarma, their friend's houses and any other location they considered to be an important landmark. We eventually came to the mall which was located completely on the other end of the town. There we got lunch of taboule salad and a dish that was shaped like a calzone but filled with Labane (cheese) and zatar. It was extremely yummy and to top it all off, the food court had floor to ceiling windows that presented a view that reached Haifa and the Mediterranean Sea. The land surrounding Yarka is so beautiful and because the village sits atop a hill, they have the great fortune of being able to appreciate the landscape in all its glory. After the meal, we walked around the mall doing what any teenage girl would do: shopping. Before we knew it Nahed had bought each of us a pair of large earrings. (Just as a side note, I find it slightly ironic that the first pair of big earrings I own were given to me by someone who according to her faith is not allowed to pierce her ears.) In between window shopping at a shoe store and trying on crazy makeup combinations we got to talking about such things as The Notebook, Taylor Swift and America's Funniest Videos.

After the mall, Tal and I returned to Nahed's house and Ilana and Melanie went back to Tomador's. There we had dinner with the best grilled meat I have ever had. Ever. The meal of pitot (pita which her mother had made from scratch), taboule (which they had also made) and the shishkabab meat was so incredibly flavorful, I couldn't get enough of it. We then joined up again with the others at Tomador's house where we were greeted by a throng of teenage girls who were essentially introduced to us as Tomador's cousins. We spent a ridiculously fun evening talking, laughing, dancing (and of course eating some more). They taught us how to do Arabian dancing and even attempted to teach us one of their traditional dances. In return, we showed them the Macarana and Cotton Eye Joe. Dancing with them that evening served as a form of bonding that, looking back on it, served as the perfect medium for not only bridging the gap between our two worlds but allowing us to also crossover to get a taste of each other's cultures.

To be continued...