Israel 2013: 11 Days, 1 Hour and 12 Minutes

Well, I've started packing (and the countdown, hence the title), and the suitcase didn't have nearly as much dust on it as I thought it would. It has been living under my midget bed these last (almost) 6 months. Granted, I started packing a tad early, but I confess I'm a bit excited. Thrilled actually. And yet, I am sad. I love Israel, especially Jerusalem. I was talking with my friend who lives next door, who is studying here but is from the Haifa area, and we both agreed that although we love to travel to other places in Israel, we are always happy when the vehicle we are in starts to climb those hills, indicating we are making the ascent back to Jerusalem. There truly is something special, unique, comforting, and familiar about this place. Coming back to Jerusalem from a trip always feels like coming home.  At this time, I do not foresee taking another trip outside of Jerusalem, aside from the one I will take to the airport in Tel Aviv in a week and half. As expected, ulpan has made the time speed up exponentially, in contrast to the sluggish semester. I confess I hit a wall this week in terms of learning Hebrew; my brain decided it has had enough and needs a break from the constant learning and the energy it takes to put into practice what it has learned...so, here I sit on the squeaky blue couch writing instead of being in class. Actually, I have an appointment with the lovely Ministry of the Interior, so walking alllll the way uphill to spend a little bit of time in class just to turn around and walk back did not seem practical to me...or much fun.

Tuesday was the 9th of Av on the Jewish calendar, and that meant no class for us (as a result we now have class tomorrow on Friday...bleh). The 9th of Av is a day of mourning and fasting, and is the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. A lot has transpired on that particular day, starting in the bible when Moses sent spies to check out the land; Joshua and Caleb returned with the group and said "The land is amazing; we can take this place, let's do this!", but the others were like "Um, noooo, there are giants in the land, we're like ants to them; ain't no way we're going back in there to be slaughtered by those big boys!" (my paraphrasing, of course).  This mixed report caused fear to spread among the children of Israel, and the masses sided with the latter group, and complained and grumbled yet again (they grumbled a lot), saying it would be better if they had stayed in Egypt. As a result, God was not happy about this and told them that no one from that generation (over 20 years old), with the exception of Joshua and Caleb, would live to see the land He had promised to give them; they would all die in the desert. And that is precisely what happened...and it was the 9th day of the month of Av. Centuries later, in 586 B.C., the First Temple was destroyed on the 9th of Av. In 70 A.D., on the 9th of Av, the Romans destroyed the Second Temple. In 1290, the Jews were expelled from England...on the 9th day of Av. What else happened on this day? In 1492 (besides Columbus sailing the ocean blue), the Jews were expelled from another country...Spain. WWI, which historians conclude led into WWII, began on the 9th of Av. We all know about the Holocaust during WWII, but do you know when the "Final Solution" (mass liquidation of European Jews) was issued? On the 9th of Av. Needless to say, it is a cursed day.

I had planned on spending my day off from class as a good little student, studying and memorizing and all that stuff that I assume a good little student does, but a classmate invited me to go to the Dead Sea and a spring with her and her Israeli friend. Um, yes please. We left a little later than we wanted, as the car rental place was not in a hurry. I was picked up at 11 and off we went in our little metal Suzuki box on wheels. We were in the contraption ten minutes when we were flagged down by a police officer in the West Bank. We had driven right through a stop sign "on four wheels", said the officer (are you supposed to drive through on less?), and after smiling a lot and apologizing, we were on our way with only a warning. We honestly did not see the sign; good thing I don't have my own car here. Our first stop was the spring. The road leading to it snaked up and down and around the steep hills of the Judean Desert, and I prayed a lot. Especially when the Israeli citizen-friend in the passenger seat grabbed her seatbelt; I assumed that was not a good sign. My classmate is a good driver, the road was just scary as heck, loaded with surprisingly sharp turns. Thankfully we survived and arrived to our destination. We were completely surrounded by desert hills and we had to walk down a path to the spring and the stream. After about 10 minutes we came to a cute little area with a cute little waterfall and cute little fishes. After a couple hours, walked back up the trail (it's amazing how much you can sweat in a 10 minute walk) to begin driving to our second destination: St. George Monastery, which is built into the cliffs in the desert. Now here is where I almost died.

Keep in mind, this whole trip is in the desert. We stopped at a lookout point, and from there observed the monastery. It looked really amazing tucked into the crevices of the mountain. After some deliberation, we agreed to drive down to get a closer look. Unfortunately we couldn't get very close with our "car". Yep, more walking. As usual at these touristy sites, there were Bedouins with little tables and whatnot, filled with jewelry and head coverings to be sold at a very low price. We had seen these along the trip so far, but this one near the monastery was selling cold drinks. I caved after one older guy placed a cool orange on my arm; 5 shekels later I was sipping a freshly made orange drink. Two Bedouins followed us down the steep paved path on their donkeys. The road was made up of sharp right angles, and after 10-15 minutes we were once again in view of the Monastery. I admit that it looks more impressive from a distance, and though we were closer at this point, we still had a long way to walk. Because of the heat and the fact that I was sweating like an ice cube in August, we decided to turn back and make our way to the vehicle. We could have ridden the donkeys back up...for 30 shekels. We declined, and our "guides" left us in the steamy dust. The way up was agonizing. Torturous. Ridiculous. And hot. When I reached the top, my heart didn't know whether to melt or explode. I immediately gulped down some very warm water from my backpack, and poured some over my head and face. I was definitely overheated. The sweat that was dripping continually from my hair to my shirt was evidence of this.

Back on the road, we stopped at a gas station where I inhaled chocolate covered Oreo ice cream, and within minutes we were back on the road driving to the Dead Sea, our final destination. We arrived a little after 4pm, and after crossing the road from the parking lot we made our descent to the salty water. We stopped under the shade of some brush to eat a snack or two, and of course to drink more water. Right after our break I was standing in the Dead Sea, which I had previously been in back in February. In February the temperature of the water was probably around 55 degrees Fahrenheit, which was too cold for me. This time however, I felt I was sitting in a nice warm bath. Unlike the public beach I had visited in February, this location was full of the famous Dead Sea mud, and in no time I had smeared it all over my arms, legs, back, and neck/throat area (this is the mud you buy at the mall at those little kiosks because it's good for your skin). At one point, while waking in the water, I was in up to my shins, but my right leg sank down in the mud up to mid-thigh.  In the process of pulling my leg out, the shards of salt cut my foot and leg in several places. Of course, the salt in the water coming into contact with the cuts resulted in a nice burning sensation, which lasted for several minutes. Even after getting out of the water, the cuts were bleeding.  I went back into the water, endured the pain, and eventually it stopped, along with the bleeding. I cannot put into words how peaceful it was to effortlessly float in that water, staring into the short distance at the Jordanian mountains, and not hearing a sound except a bird or two. It was amazing. Since all of my family members have requested I bring them a rock from Israel, I began to walk along the Dead Sea shore in search of these free gifts. I was shocked to find places in the water near the shore to be too hot to stand in, but I did find a lot of neat rocks (which I spent a long time washing yesterday). The residue from the Dead Sea is really quite annoying and very difficult to remove. Once I arrived back to my apartment, I immediately washed my hands (twice) and then took a long shower, and I could still feel the salty residue afterwards.

Besides feeling greasy, I was dehydrated.  Even though I drank 3 liters of water, it was not enough. I learned that you need to take small drinks continually so your body can absorb it; I drank it in gulps, which I then immediately sweat out. And for the record, I didn't have to pee all day. I had a nice headache once I got home, and I was drained most of the next day (yesterday). I've drank plenty of water since then, and I have eaten a lot of salt to replace what I lost, so now I feel much better. Not to mention, my brain is thankful for the break from class today.  The following are some pictures and videos I took during the trip to the desert with my phone: