June 29: Prayer, Roman ruins, and Tel Aviv

Before our last breakfast at the Kibbutz, we davened a Shacharit service on the lookout platform next to the dining room. I was thrilled to lead our small congregation, consisting of five people, in parts of P'sukei d'Zimra. To sing the Morning Blessings, Baruch SheAmar, and Halleluyah at 7:15 in the morning on a kibbutz in Israel, looking over a fertile agricultural valley and an incredibly beautiful mountain range across - once again, I'm running out of adjectives. I can only say that it was a huge moment that will stay with me forever.

On the way down from the Golan, we crossed the Jordan River multiple times. Somehow I had imagined the Jordan to be a mighty, wide river, perhaps glistening bright blue in the sunshine, with whitecaps. Or, at least some lovely round river stones glistening in the clear water on a shallow shore. What we saw, though, was a very humble little stream, at times an almost dry riverbed, and at other times widening to a whopping 5-6 meters of lazy green water. It went by so fast I couldn't get a picture.

We stopped at the Teva Naot shoe factory outlet and lots of people bought lots of shoes in a very short time. Warren and I got a pair of sandals each. They fit wonderfully.

Next stop was an ancient Roman city at Beit Shean. I knew, of course, that the Romans had a presence in the area for a long time, but I was still surprised to see the excavation with all that Roman architecture. "Now we don't have to go to Italy", I said to Warren. "Yes, you do," said someone who overheard the comment.

A long bus drive to Tel Aviv, check-in and dinner at the hotel. Another wonderful Israeli buffet. A bottle of wine and some wonderfully relaxed conversation with a friend on the hotel patio, with the Mediterranean breeze coming in from the west. Around 9:30 PM in our hotel room, Warren tried to figure out which day we would be arriving to let Welch know when exactly to pick us up from BART, and it suddenly dawned on us that our tickets were for June 30, but since today was June 29 and they were for 1 AM, June 30 was right upon us and we had to pack and GET GOING that night, not the following night. Oy! The cab driver was fast, security was not, but thanks to an El Al "buggy" we got to the gate on time, and here we are, safe and sound at home. The garden is fine, the cat is fine, and we are fine.

June 28: Golan, soldiers, and chocolate

Started the day bright and early with the wonderful Israeli breakfast, and then it was off to the mountains of the Golan. At the top of Mt. Bental it was cold, for a change. I was shivering so hard in my sleeveless shirt that I started crying and felt a tension headache coming on. Merav borrowed a jacket from a cafeteria worker, and as soon as I had it on, my body relaxed. No headache. We looked towards Syria and learned about the 1967 and 1973 battles.

Off the mountain, we visited the De Karina boutique chocolate factory at Kibbutz Ein Zivan. A woman named Karina brought her chocolate making knowledge to the Kibbutz from South America where her family had been making chocolate for generations. We watched the chocolate making process, and then got to try our hands in making our own out of liquid dark, milk, or white chocolate with a bunch of additions such as shaved chocolate, cocoa powder, nuts, raisins, liqueurs. After we were done, they cooled our creations and we got to take them with us. Haven't eaten all of it yet!

We saw a very cool movie about the Golan. The screen was huge, circular. Beautifully shot images, great sound. When a surfer fell back into the water from a high leap, we all felt a little splash of water, and when the wind turbines started turning on the screen, the fans in the theater sent wind into our faces. Later I heard one of the kids describe the movie as "lame", but I thought it was completely cool. See what age does to you!

On the way back to the kibbutz, we made an impromptu visit to a tank company stationed at a hilltop to guard the Syrian border. The unit commander explained their mission and then took us to the tank staging area. We also chatted with the soldiers and some gave them little gifts. It was windy, and the dust was blowing.

Another great dinner at the kibbutz - at least eight different salads, two hot vegetables, three or four meat dishes to choose from. A quick peek at e-mail and blogs in the reception area, and we collapsed into bed.

June 27: Tsefat - Mysticism, narrow streets, and light blue paint

I imagined Tsefat, the center of Jewish mysticism in the Galilee, as a picturesque, quiet small town, perhaps with a center square like that of Sonoma, with art galleries and pretty synagogues, and so on. I was a little bit off the mark. Tsefat has grown into a sprawling hillside city with high-rise apartment buildings, much like any other town. The historical center was still small and picturesque, but, of course, being in the Galilee, it was built into a hillside. A veritable maze of narrow alleyways and steps up, steps down. Stone walls, some painted in an incredible hue of light blue. Lots of small art shops, some with good, interesting pieces, and some not. Lots of the same stuff you see with street vendors everywhere. Food, at least what we saw, mostly your run-of-the-mill fast food, and not very good at that. I would imagine that to feel spiritual there you would have to spend some time to get to know the place. Two hours did not do it.

Our first stop was at the gallery of a Kabbalah student and artist from Michigan who talked to us about his path to spiritualism and his art. We also visited two small synagogues, very lovely in detail, but you also needed to see through a surface layer of tour groups and white plastic chairs. This one is the Abuhava Synagogue, whose architecture is full of symbolism. A Jewish trivia quiz on numbers 1 to 13.

In the afternoon we visited a kibbutz in Malkiyah ("God is my king"). Our guide was Eitan, the security chief and, if I remember correctly, the head of agriculture as well. He took us to meet with some soldiers and then guided us to the Lebanese border. A few feet from the border fence we picked an almost-ripe nectarine, chanted Shehecheyanu really, really loudly, and then the blessing for eating fruit. That nectarine tasted better than any ripe fruit from Berkeley Bowl. I will remember that taste every time I eat a nectarine from now on.

June 26: Masada, Dead Sea, and Ein Gedi

A wonderful but exhausting day. The bus ride from Jerusalem to Masada was a continuum of incredible desert vistas, and it only got better when the Dead Sea came to sight. We took the cable car to the top and then walked around in Herod's palace, from food storage areas to living areas to areas added by the zealots - a synagogue, mikveh, and so on. It was really, really hot, but luckily the walk was on the level. And the place where we were sort of made us forget about the discomfort. History and natural splendor in one eyeful!

Down the hill again in the cable car, and we changed into bathing suits and water shoes and waded carefully into the Dead Sea. Carefully, because the stones were pretty slippery. Then, as instructed, we simply sat down and let our feet rise up - and we floated! I knew it was possible because I had seen pictures of it, but I still couldn't believe it. But yes, there I was, floating effortlessly, just paddling around a little to change direction. At one point I turned my back to the shore and all the other people, and all I saw was blue water fading into a blue mist and then gradually turning into a mountain range on the Jordanian side. I'm running out of adjectives here.

The hike to the Ein Gedi waterfalls was hot and hard. My pulse rate went up pretty fast on those stone steps in the 100-something heat. Had to remember to drink huge amounts of water! I had already changed into dry clothes after the post-float shower, and so I couldn't go cool off under the waterfall. Pity. But I got a couple of good whole-body splashes from Danny, and it was actually nice to continue the hike with a wet shirt front and wet shorts. - The large rock platform with a rock overhang right next to the waterfall reminded me of some of the places described in the Clan of the Cave Bear series. I could just see an ancient band of people finding this blessed shade right next to a waterfall and decide to make it their home. In the winter the rock roof would provide shelter from the rain, and in the summer from the scorching sun.

A long bus ride north brought us to Kibbutz Gonen. Got our keys and located our pretty log cabin, surrounded by red and white bougainvillea and red lantana taller than Warren. A porch with a table and chairs and inside, a living room, kitchen counter, large whirlpool, small bathroom, and a sleeping area. Peacocks strolling peacefully in the pathways flanked by exuberant blooming shrubs. - We had a plentiful and tasty buffet dinner in the kibbutz dining room, and then there was no more energy left. I don't remember when I was last as tired as I was when I finally got to bed.

June 25: Yom Menucha - A day of rest

And restful it was. In the morning, an interesting experience of "shul hopping" - attending services at three different synagogues. The first was modern Orthodox. Men and women sitting on different sides, separated by a curtain that you could sort of see through. Beautiful singing, slow tempos and everyone participating. Many tunes were unfamiliar but relatively easy to catch on. At the beginning of the Torah service, a woman began to lead the chanting. Kind of a surprise at that setting! She also took the Torah out and carried it through the women's side, then handed it to a man on the other side of the curtain. She led the singing and carried the Torah but did not wear a tallit or head cover! A woman next to me helped me find the right page in an unfamiliar Siddur, and she shared her Chumash during the Torah reading. She seemed genuinely thrilled when I whispered to her that I had read that portion in my home synagogue in California.

Our second visit was to the ultra-Orthodox Great Synagogue of Jerusalem. A fantastic building full of marble and dark, gleaming wood, and huge chandeliers and stained glass windows. An operatic cantor and a men's choir that sang, among other things, the congregational responses. The congregation just sat or stood, totally passive. The women sat in a gallery high above the main floor, but there was no curtain so we could see everything. We were there for the beginning of the Musaf service. The Kedushah was absolutely beautiful but too much like a choral work with a soloist. As I said before, no congregational participation.

The third and final stop was to a conservative synagogue. This, of course, felt like home. Men and women sitting together, women wearing tallitot, a female cantor, familiar tunes. We had lunch there, too, a rather substantial meal of four kinds of meat and many salads and side dishes. No dinner needed tonight.

In the afternoon we napped, read, and packed our bags. Late in the afternoon we were all invited for wine and snacks on the Rabbi's spectacular 11th floor balcony with a panoramic view of Jerusalem, with the Old City in the center. The balcony was easily large enough to accommodate the whole group of nearly seventy people! We watched the day turn into night, the colors mixing, the first stars appearing in the sky, and the lights coming on in the city. We sang Havdalah in this gorgeous setting. A wonderful last night in Jerusalem. Tomorrow we leave for the Dead Sea and Masada, and from there into the Galilee.

June 24: Yad Vashem and Erev Shabbat

A walk through Yad Vashem. The Holocaust memorial we saw on our last trip exists no more. A new, striking building stands in its place. The architecture is unsettling, as no doubt was the purpose. The walls on the right and left lean in to almost meet at the top, leaving just a few feet clear to let day light through. The effect on me was that I wasn't sure I was standing straight, and I had to struggle to keep my balance. This made the walkthrough as exhausting physically as it was emotionally, looking at the incredible things people did to other people. How could this be? How on earth could this be? The quote that sticks in my mind is, "A country is not only what it does but what it tolerates." What do WE tolerate?

Stepping out of the memorial, I experience another unsettling sensation. Now the ground is not level, it angles up slightly, just enough to keep me off-balance. Again, I'm not sure I'm standing straight. I walk slowly up to a glass railing at the end of the ramp to see a breathtaking view of Eretz Yisrael, and what goes through my mind is, "From there, to here." What a way to end the exhibit.

Later in the afternoon, off to see a slice of life in modern Jerusalem - the Machane Yehuda market place. Those who like crowds and noise love it there. Warren and I don't, and so we didn't like it at all. An overwhelming amount of food piled up in the open air. Shoulder to shoulder people. Noise, smell, flies. We were supposed to eat lunch there, but couldn't stomach doing it. Not even half-way through the main artery we turned back and cleared out. A little hungry by then, we found a small falafel shop with a few tables and chairs and had lunch. A really good falafel, too. Juicy, crunchy falafel balls and yummy salads in a really nice, soft pita. There was even a sink for hand washing, and we were very grateful for this particular expression of religious observance because we could now wash our hands free of the smells (and flies) of the market!

And the day was not over yet. Our group gathered in a lookout spot in the park across the street from the hotel for an early Kabbalat Shabbat service. Another emotional moment - to sing the Friday night service with Jerusalem at our feet. And the kids whom I have taught leading parts of the service.

Then a walk back to the hotel for Shabbat dinner - a huge buffet of chicken soup, gefilte fish, salads, chicken, brisket, knishes, kugel, desserts. And again, noise. This time the kids in our group, sitting together and having fun at the top of their lungs.

Something seems different from last time: I remember the city pretty much shutting down for Shabbat. No traffic to speak of, just a few lone cars here and there. Now, as I'm sitting at the open balcony door of our room, I hear exactly the same the street noise as earlier in the day. A constant flow of cars speeding down the hill. Acceleration, braking, honking. People talking, yelling, laughing. Is this a change that has happened during the eleven years since our last trip, or is this simply a different location? That doesn't make sense, because we are only 6-8 blocks from where we were last time. I liked Shabbat in Jerusalem better then.

June 23: History lessons on the Temple Mount

Today was pretty amazing. When you walk on the Kotel (Western Wall) plaza, the ground under your feet seems just like that, "the ground". When you descend into the excavations below, however, you see a whole other city down there, and you realize that what seems like "ground" is really a sort of roof. Think about a subway system in a modern city, and you get the picture. Except here, the city below was built first, and the new city was built right on top of the old. The Arabs built a village on top of the structures from the period of the Second Temple and used the now underground areas as sewage and garbage dumps. As we were walking around inside the excavation, we saw a complex system of arches that held up a bridge that once led to the Temple. We actually stood and walked on the original sidewalk built along the foot of the wall now buried and hidden from sight. It was mind-boggling. And it added a very realistic feeling to what we did yesterday - sifting through the rubble that was collected from this very area for archaeological research. Including the piece of pottery I found!

An afternoon in the Jewish Quarter. Lots of small, winding alleyways, too narrow to seem like streets. We were actually surprised when a car tried to get through. We didn't realize we were walking in the middle of the street! How annoying it must be for the people who live there to have these hordes of tourists clog their streets and keep them from entering their homes. They didn't yell at us, though.