Call me "well-warned" that everything goes on hiatus in Israel "until after the Chagim (holidays)". But what does that mean? Surely the entire country cannot hibernate for three weeks- from Rosh Hashanah through the end of Sukkot, right? Wrong. Nothing happens, nothing gets done, and apparently no one works. Everyone wishes everyone happy new year, an easy fast, and happy holidays to all passersby. And I mean everyone. And for some reason, it carries a bit more weight than the "Merry Christmas" I receive everywhere I go in the states. It is a genuine wish of happiness and a true time of enjoyment and togetherness.
A few observations of Israelis during this holiday season: even if they don't go to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, the have a new year's dinner with their families. Even if they don't fast on Yom Kippur, they don't go to work or drive anywhere and the streets are full of pedestrians. Even if they never say a single prayer, the all of sukkahs in their backyards, in their patios, on the streets... wherever they can construct one, there is a sukkah. If they can't have their own, they eat in their neighbors', friends' or family's. I was truly beside myself seeing such a plethora of sukkahs in this country. Literally, parts of the streets in Jerusalem were blocked by sukkahs because the street was the only space available for some restaurants to build such a structure.
*In case "sukkah" is not in your vocabulary... today, a sukkah is a temporary shelter that has at least two and half walls of some sort with a roof made out of natural materials. Rain should be able to pass through the roof and stars should be able to be soon. Traditionally during the seven days of this harvest festival people eat, sleep and visit inside of these structures. Feel free to google sukkot for more information*
That said, it is probably quite obvious that this experience is like nothing I've ever experience in North Carolina... or even in the yuppy part of Brooklyn where I lived for a few months. It was heart-warming to hear my friends tell me of family dinners neighbors houses in the sukkah and to see how inviting families are to friends and strangers alike into their homes for such festivities.
Clearly, I am quite moved by Sukkot's impact on Israel. However, no matter how many people warned me about this hibernation, I found myself frighteningly frustrated by the stagnation. I frequently caught myself trying to trick myself into appreciating a slower pace and this peace and quiet, yet I felt very trapped. I have realized that I do, indeed, miss something other than my black lab (Chloe) from the states: the ease with which I have independence at home. While I know that I can travel independently here and I am capable of navigating and communicating, being at the will of the bus schedule and employees who are constantly on holiday complicates matters quite a bit. I miss the luxury of being able jump in my car and the ability to drive myself wherever I choose. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my Sukkot vacation and made things work to the best of my abilities with the help of friends and a little bit of patience. Yes, Dad, believe it or not... sometimes I have patience.
I traveled north to Tiberias on the Kinerret (Sea of Galilee) with a group of ten or so from which planned to hike a famous route across the country to the Mediterranean Sea. This hike is creatively named "Sea to Sea". Full of adrenaline and weighed down with backpacks full of calorie-laden snacks, sunscreen and liters of water, we set out at 5 am (ok... 6) to conquer this journey that "all Israelis do" at some point or other. Frequently around the age of 14. Little did we know that most Israelis brilliantly hike this trail the other direction so that you hike for four days downhill as opposed to hiking up steep rocky faces in high temperatures with heavy packs. Dumb Americans. After ten hours of hiking and extreme uncertainty as to how many kilometers before reaching civilization we pass many Israelis who are sure to tell us that we are crazy and we must go back half an hour and abort the mission. So we hike on, of course, determined to finish the day's hike. Another hour passes- along with an Israeli father and son team crossing our path. The father, in true Israeli fashion, tells us that we are utterly unprepared, we should each have a liter and a half of water on us for the remaining 9k uphill climb(we cumulatively might have had one...) and that we must follow him to the nearest highway to rest for the night. Well, how does one argue with that? So we finished for the day and spent the night in Tzfat where we found the only open hostel- a religious hostel where sang songs and were scolded for having guys from our program in the girls dorms. It's all part of the experience, no?
After great debate of what we would all do collectively we realized that traveling in herds is quite difficult and separated into more efficient groups. The next few days that I spent in the Golan region were filled with magnificent field trips. Horseback riding through the hills, wine tasting, a road trip with Michal, Gilad and Lauren to breathtaking cliffs splashed by clear turquoise water on the Lebanese border followed by scrumptious hummus and labaneh at a restaurant on the sea in Acko- a city where Muslims, Christians, Drews and Jews live together peacefully. More adventures followed- a hike in Emek Haela, where David beat Goliath, and where we sat by a fire drinking tea, and and a journey to underground caves where we saw the most interesting stalagmites and stalactites. Feel free to google those, too.
After all this stimulation and excitement I sadly climbed onto a bus headed southbound, home to Beer Sheva for my first full week of Ulpan. My Hebrew is improving- soon to be fluent... Not.
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