All Israeli’s talk about going up North. We also wanted to
go up North. Many people suggested it to us. We decided to go.
Late Thursday night we researched how to go about it. Myself
and a friend from work. She’s American, and also here till May looking to spend
weekends exploring the country. We looked up maps to find out what North
comprised of. Looked up bus routes, hostels, tent renting. Research is harder
than it sounds. We gave up and went to Jerusalem for the last night of the Sounds
of the Old City Music Festival. This was how Israel looked in stories. Cobblestone lined alleys, shining with Use of thousands of years, the 4 quarters, Armenian, Jewish, Muslim, Christian, connected by alleyways in the middle but each with seperate entrances. At night, light by fairie-lights hanging overhead, with great colourful lanterns at each enterance. You know the venues that all good parties try to recreate- broken stone pillars, great sandstone walls, arches and tunnels leading to the Loos, this was that venue. The Original. Combine great sound systems, colored lights, candyfloss machines, with ancient history and the echoes or religion. Add 4 huge bands, a Halleluya band in the Christian quarter, and a Kabalistic drone in the Jewish quarter, with one-man artists along the pathways, on the reed pipes, or sitar. This is Israel. We ate at least 5 sticks of candyfloss.
And back to Tel Aviv at midnight.
Wake up, 8am back to the research hub. Spontaneous decision of my work-homie, to hire a car. She's 25 so she can. Not that expensive either. By 12 we were on the road, a hired Chevvy full of blankets, clothes, maps, stolen toilet paper, and food for 90Shekels (rye bread,pita,challah,carrots,cucumber,avo,tomato,apples,biscuits,chocolate, hummus, cheese many litres of water) <take note, because this fed us for breakfast lunch and supper from friday till sunday morning>
My sister and my South African slept in the back of the car. I navigated. We drove North, and then East, and then I woke them up, and had my own nap, and woke up in an incredibly smelly village. We drove out of it, and found another smelly village. I'm sure if there were rednecks in Israel they would live there. We looked for coffee. There were washing machines, cow-skulls, small animals on victorian furniture(a lot of this) but no coffee. We left this town too. And soon we were at the Kineret, the largest fresh water body. Facts along these lines were bounced around the enclosed space of the car untill we stopped at a picknick stop along the highway, and ate oranges, and fresh air, and shmoosed with the dodgy local men. The day begun to darken. It was time to find a place to rest. This was 16:00. We continued this activity untill 21:00 that night. Again we learn that winging trips accross the country, is not always a good idea.
Where to sleep for the night when the options are:
a dodgey motel in Tiberias, we knocked on the door, no one came to answer, soon the neighbours came out, they had never heard of the place.
a hotel in Tiberias; 300Shekels per person. Not going to happen
The hostel on a hill, for unbeliveably cheap rates that the dodgey locals of the picnic spot had told us about; we couldnt find the hill, and no one we spoke to believed it existed.
A parking lot near the Kineret itself, a small fee for entrance, and maybe the risk of mosquitoes. We should have take it. I dont know why we didnt.
We called another work friend, the rasta man who went home to the north for weekends. He told us where to go. It was the long way around the kinneret. Turns out the lowest freshwater body is pretty big. Its at the junction between the 180 and the 886. Its dark when we arrive at the junction. There was no moon that night. We dont quite know which way to turn at the junction, we try left. There is a path, with a farm-gate, which may or may not be locked. We drive up to it. Through a puddle. Which turns out to be deep, muddy, and full of large rocks (boulders?). The hired chevy gets stuck. Me and my twin jump out to push it out. We push it out. There is a loud cracking noise. A bad smell. The gate is locked anyway. We dry off out feet, put on more jerseys, keep driving. We drive to Syria. How do we know this, well because when looking for a sign that read the name of the camping site we were searching for we saw a red sign reading FIRING ZONE DO NOT ENTER. We did not Enter. A Fox ran accross the road. We heard Howling. (this is legit, it was the 'little foxes', the next day we found out that this was Completely Normal).
Next option was a Game Reserve. But we didnt have tents. or rifles. It was not going to be a good idea.
We drove back to the junction. Tried every farm-path along the way. Called the Israeli friend who suggested this place again. Turns out it wasnt at the junction. It was before the junction. Before, preposition, meaning if we had not to/past the junction, we would not have driven through the mud and rocks; landed outselves in a military training zone on the border, or added 2 extra hours to our travels. The camping site at the junction was great; it was in a forrest, and there were other cars around a parking lot, tents, civilization. My sister cut the vegetables, my work-friend sorted the blankets etc, and my S.African friend made a fire with the wood we stole. Peeing in the dark is great. It was spiritual, beautiful, it was shabbat and we siad prayers over candles and bread. I have never seen such bright stars. I lay awake watching them for much of the night. It was too cold and uncomfortable to sleep. On a blanket on the floor, spooning, each in her own sleeping bag. Cramped. Work friend who rented the car woke me that morning. "The car is leaking oil". It was hard to get up. But then she said "Look over there" and it was ok again. A snow covered mountain in the distance, past the long grassy plains dotted with flowers. No wonder it was so cold.
The most stressfull morning. I dont wish to think about the crisis over the car ever again. The oil was empty, impossible to drive, we called the friend who had led us there, as well as the car hire company. Exchanges in Hebrew. Stress, fatigue, shouting, concern. But also it was beautiful, and the Israeli friend, (the rasta man who led us this way/ astray...) drove out for an hour to come rescue us, and made coffee on his little gas stove.
And we went for a walk (when we came back the car was gone, as if none of it ever happened. The company had taken it, and had refused to give us a replacement vehicle as my friend (and certainly not us) didnt have the money in her account for a second deposit. All that was left was an oil stain on the empty parking lot of the forrest.
Led by the Israeli friend, we walked to a waterfall. Everything was spectaclar, the flowers were the most colourful, the most unique, the grass was postcardly green, and endless. The physical exersion, after a day of sitting in the car was most wellcome. And the waterfall which we heard a good ten minutes before we actually saw it, was magnificent. Furthur up ahead we climbed down, put out feet it the icy water, watched the trekkers, got some good old vitamin D. Seeing ones colleagues without their clothes on is quite a trippy experice let me tell you. And soon we were heading back, finding places to pee along the way. Settled down to an amazing lunch, mintish tea of picked israeli plants brewed on the gas stove, and ofcourse bread, fuit, veg the usual. We were alive again, refreshed from the Chevy Crisis.
We drove to a view point of the Syrian Border, more friendly in the day. We could see the UN camps there, and the fence that seperated the nations. We drove through Drews villages, up long and windy paths (rocks on the road were still a sensitive issue) untill a high deserted area, Lebanons border. We learned of the screaming hills; Drews are loyal to their country, but when Israel and Syria made their boudaries, families were seperated and are known to trek to a hill with a valley accross the border, from which they can shout to their relatives in Syria, or in Israel, their voices echoing accross the border although they can never reunite.
We went to a lake in a tiny village, past carcasses of deceased domestic animals, and pollution, rubbish collecting over the years, through private property to an empty area around a lake, in front of the mountain capped with snow. The reflection even clearer than the mountian itself. I lay upsidedown and questioned the sky. We were very tired all day, and spoon hour kept dropping in eve at the most spiritual of times.
And then we were off again back through the polluted village and insearch of the 'best fallafel place in Israel'. Its atleast 4 hours from tel aviv. Worth it.
And soon it was a rush to the bus station, drop my sister and my southafrican off and me and my work homie went to crash the night at our Israeli work homie's place. It was amazing to have a shower, cutlery, light and mostly a bed. Safe, happy, tired, clean.
However the perfect end to the week turned out the be the car ride back the next morning. We talked about our liberal ideas of openness, sexuality, orgies. And the perfect rasta Israeli who eats only organic vegetables and got out of Army Service turns out to be a sexist homophobe... They debated how 'natural' involved men being allowed to love many women, but women having to look after any babies that G-d/the man brings about. They debated the unnaturalness of homosexuality, and if our purpose is to live G-ds will and live naturally. I could barely talk. I was too shocked. <Although ofcourse I couldnt stop a few sarcastic phrases slipping out>. If I cant seperate the Person, from the Ideas, I will have no friends in Israel. This I am learning fast.
No comments:
Post a Comment