My Week in Israel
I arrived in Israel on Thursday afternoon. Stopped at theMinistry of Tourism desk in the airport and got some guidebooks and maps. The guide they gave me to Jerusalem was to become extremely important to me. So I got my luggage and found a Sherut shuttle which agreed to take me to my husband's uncle's house. The street he lives on is very short. The Sherut drived dumped me and my stuff, so I had to ask a guy passing by where Moshe Poupko lives. I started to wrestle my (way too big) suitcase up the steps. Maishel (that's what his sister, my m-i-l calls him) and his wife Chani gave me a warm welcome.
As we were having dinner, their daughter calls and says she just heard on the radio that a Canadian won the Diaspora competition! We were very excited and started calling family back in Canada and in the States. After a while, I settled down, pulled out my guidebooks, and started trying to plan how to see as much as possible in the time I had. Since I only had half of Friday (I was supposed to pick up my son at noon and take him to his grandfathers grave) I chose the Egged 99 Bus for Friday morning. Moshe and Chani told me how to buy a bus pass and get to the Tachana Mercazit, the Central Bus Station, and Binyanei HaOoma, the Convention Center where I was supposed to meet him. The fact that they just sent me off on my own might sound cold, but it actually is what gave me the confidence to do the rest of the week the way I wanted to, and I'm really grateful to them.
I took a bus from their neighborhood that got me to the Tachana Mercazit with lots of time to spare, so I walked around inside and outside. The 99 is a double decker bus, bright red, that takes about 2 hours to drive past most of the significant sights of Jerusalem. It stops at many of thses sites so you can get off and get back on the next bus 2 hours later to continue the tour. While on the bus there is a recorded tour that you can listen to in your choice of about 8 languages. The cost is 45 shekels, about $9CAD. I was the only one on the bus when it started, so I got to sit in the front of the second floor. I had a great view of everything and really got a feel for what I wanted to come back to and look at longer. The bus passes most of the gates of the Old City but does not go inside.
We got back to the bus station at 10:45 or so. I decided to walk to the market at Machane Yehuda. I figured that whatever souveniers I bought, I would get less ripped off if I shopped where the locals do. I walked around the shops and stalls, bought a hat for myself, a kipa for one son, a skirt for my daughter. When I asked the price on the skirt, the salesman said 100 shekel. I said I'd think about it . 80 shekel. I told him I wanted to look around. 70 shekel. I walked out of the store. He put it in a bag and followed me, yelling 65 shekel! I bought the skirt. The I took a bus back to the bus station. I was at Binyanei HaOoma at 11:45, but he didn't get there until almost 1:00. Most of the time I spent with the other dad from Toronto, but after a while I met a mom from Australia whose son was rooming with mine, so we all waited together.
I took Yisrael Mordechai into the bus station to have lunch in the food court. Good thing to, because places were starting to close. Then we found a taxi that agreed to take us to the cemetary in Beit Shemesh and back. We found Zaidie's grave and said Tehillim for him, then found Aunt Shoshana and said Tehillim for her too. We got back to Moshe and Chani's and got ready for Shabbat. We had a lovely Shabbat dinner with Moshe and Chani, their kids and kids-in-law, a couple of grandkids and some guests.
The next morning, I woke up very early. Maishel had said he was going to 5:30am minyan, so I got dressed and went with him. We had Kiddush at home and sent the boys off to 7:30 minyan. Then Aunt Chani said she was going to shul. I decided to walk with her. When I dropped her off, it was 8:15. She reccomended that I walk around Meah Shearim and Beit Yisrael, and meet her at home at 10:30. I walked into Meah Shearim, then out of it, and realized the street I was on was Shivtei Yisrael. I knew from my maps and from the bus tour yesterday that this street leads to the Old City. Also there were lots of people walking down it. I was supposed to go to the Kotel at Mincha, so as to be able to take the bus back after Shabbat, but I couldn't wait any more. I walked straight down to Sha'ar Yafo. When I got to the gate I was actually trembling, almost afraid to go in. But I did. I followed a Chassidish-looking family (through the shuk) to the Kotel.
I'm going to have a hard time explaining the next bit. Seeing the Kotel for the first time as an adult, and not a young one. Maybe I should leave it to the imagination. One extraordinary thing, unique to the Women's area, is the silence. Women come, sit down pray, say Tehillim, or just stand at the stones. There is a certain amount of shifting around, as women leave the Wall and others take their places, but there is no talking. In that way, the changing of places, the coming and going, it reminded me of a Shiva house. Definitely the silence is louder than any words.
I left the Kotel (very reluctantly) in time to get back to Moshe and Chani's by 10:30.
Shabbat afternoon I asked Chani to help me find the home of the Machlis family (read about them in a blog page called The Machlis Experience). They are professionals in the mitzva of Hachnasat Orchim who often host 100 or more guests at their Shabbat meals. (They are also our cousins-in-law on the Witty side.) Chani knew where they lived, and of course the door was open. Rabbi and Mrs Machlis were sleeping, but I met some of their teenage kids and guests. Eventually Henny (Mrs. Machlis) came out and we had a nice talk. Her husband emerged only just in time for Mincha but said he would really love to meet my son, so Henny walked me back to the Poupkos to get him and he went with her to her house. After Shabbat, I picked him up and we went to catch the bus to Beit Shemesh to visit cousins there. It was quite late because he had stayed with Rabbi Machlis for so long, but he was not sorry.
My cousin in Beit Shemesh is Yona, daughter of Sima, my mother's sister. Sima took care of my son when he first arrived in Israel, including getting him picked up from the airport and even keeping her house Pesachdig for an extra day because it was still Yom Tov for him. Sima and her husband Yehuda met us at ZYona's house, thus saving me a trip to Beersheva to meet them. Everyone else was pretty tired, but Yona and I stayed up very late talking about our kids. Sunday morning she drove us to Yerushalayim because she was still working there. We took the road through Ein Keram, a beautiful road that twists and turns up and down the mountains. I'm really glad she showed us that route.
After I returned Yisrael Mordechai to his group, I took a bus the Old City, determined to see as much of it as possible in the one day I had allotted to it. First I took a tour of the Tower of David and the Jerusalem Museum. Then I wandered through the Old City, stopping at the Museum of the Old Yishuv, The Cardo, The Burnt House of Kathros, the Herodian Quarter, and the Churva Synagogue (which is being rebuilt). I then decided to daven Mincha at the Kotel. Not a bad choice, but one that resulted in my missing the Davidson Archeological Museum, which I really wanted to see. I walked out the Sha'ar Ha'ashpot, trying to get to the City of David, but I took a wrong turn. I walked around the outside of the walls, saw the Hulda Gates and the Golden Gate. I also saw Yad Avshalom, Zechariah Tomb, and the rest of the valley. I kept walking until I reached the Sha'ar Ha' Arayot, the Lion Gate. I knew that this was the route through which the Jews re-entered the Old City in 1967. I also knew that it led to the Via Dolorosa, which I mistakenly thought meant that it was the Christian Quarter. Oops. By the time I realized where I was (the Moslem Quarter, I decided to imitate a Dutch tourist. I walked as fast as I could, looking straight ahead. Then I turned to go out the Damascus Gate. When I got to the top of the steps, there was an Israeli police jeep. I sat on the step nearest to them to rest, then took a taxi back to Maishel's house. That night, my cousin Tal called and took me out to see Yemin Moshe and the parks around it. (He is the brother of cousin Yona.)
I would have loved to have had another day or two or more in the Old City, but I decided that I wanted to also see the museums. And I needed to get my son his laundry that he had left with me. Fortunately, the hostel where his group was staying was in that neighborhood. I also wanted to meet with the Jerusalem College of Technology, as they awarded him a scholarship for winning the Diaspora Chidon. I packed his stuff onto my backpack and set out. After dropping the load of clean laundry, I went to the Bible Lands Museum. There I met a very nice a professional guide. Since there was no one else interested at that time. She gave me a personally guided tour, lasting about 2 hours. Then I went to the Israel Museum. I caught an English-language tour of their Betzalel School exhibit, then one of the Shrine of the Book. That was really fascinating to me. After that I had to head over to the college in Givat Mordechai.
I took a bus back to the Tachana Mercazit, intending to do some souvenir shopping. I ran into Rita, the mom from Austaralia, and we headed over the Machane Yehuda together. She bought more than I did. She really tried to get me to attend the Rembemberance Day ceremony at Biyanei HaOoma with her, but I was so tired that I decided to miss it. I went 'home' and went to bed early.
Tuesday was my day for Masada. I had booked a tour through one of the bus companies. We picked people up and various hotels and then drove to Masada. The ride through the desert was incredible, a world of harsh, stark beauty. There were a few small settlements of Bedouins, shacks made from wooden pallets. Then there are the plantations of date palms planted by the kibbutzim. The Dead Sea, a blue bluer than the summer sky on the clearest day. Finally we arrived at Masada. The tour I was with was a bilingual one, so I heard everything in English and...German. Hearing the story of Jewish resistance and heroism of Masada in German was just to weird for words. Cognitive dissonance doesn't begin to describe it. (There were a lot of Dutch tourists around this week.) I was disappointed that we did not spend more time on the summit. I've been fascinated by Masada ever since I read Yigal Yadin's book about the excavations. (You all have it on your shelves, take it down and read it!) After about an hour we returned to the cable car. The bus took us to lunch at the restaurant in Ein Gedi and then to the spa.
I had never been to a spa before. This one is pretty bare-bones, operated by the Israeli Parks department or something. There are indoor changing areas, and pools to bathe in the waters of the hot springs. Outside is a mud depot, where you can plaster your skin with black mud from the Dead Sea, and then a tracor-pulled train to the Sea itself. I tried the mineral pools, which are warm and smelly. I skipped the black mud and went down to the sea. It's quite a trip, as the waters are steadily receding. About 40 people were floating in a small area roped by bouys. You can't swim in the water, it's too thick, and there are no waves. You can just float. After a few minutes, the salt was stinging my hands, and I got out and showered off. Even after such a short time, my skin did feel softer and smoother. We got back on the bus, where our guide and driver explained that they could accept tips in any major currency.
Back in Jerusalem, Aunt Chani and Uncle Maishel were out overnight with their daughter in Beit Shemesh. The daughter who was staying home wasn't feeling well. I thought about just going to bed early, but it was my last night in Israel, not to mention being the eve of Yom Ha'aztmaut. I took the bus to the Kotel, getting there in time to be part of the very moving special Ma'ariv service for Yom Ha'atzmaut. I've heard this service before, in Boston and in Toronto, but being at the Kotel for it was just incredible. Towards the end, the whole men's side of the Kotel made one big circle to sing Ani Ma'amin, led by Rabbi Mordechai Elon.
Yom Ha'atzmaut was all about the Chidon itself. My husband's cousin accepted our extra tickets for himself and three of his kids. They saved me a seat, which was good because there were more tickets distributed than the number of seats in the theater, and it took me a while to get through the security. Not only did they scan our bags and send our persons through metal detectors, but each person has to explain how they got their tickets. Also, each person's hands and cellphone are swabbed with something that dectects explosive residues. Finally the show starts, broadcast live.My son does pretty well, misses only one question, and comes in fourth. He smiles at me and even waves a few times. Afterwards, I go back to the cousin's house for his annual bar-b-que. Aunt Chani and I take a taxi back to her place. I pack up and the sherut takes me back to the airport.
L'Hitraot!
As we were having dinner, their daughter calls and says she just heard on the radio that a Canadian won the Diaspora competition! We were very excited and started calling family back in Canada and in the States. After a while, I settled down, pulled out my guidebooks, and started trying to plan how to see as much as possible in the time I had. Since I only had half of Friday (I was supposed to pick up my son at noon and take him to his grandfathers grave) I chose the Egged 99 Bus for Friday morning. Moshe and Chani told me how to buy a bus pass and get to the Tachana Mercazit, the Central Bus Station, and Binyanei HaOoma, the Convention Center where I was supposed to meet him. The fact that they just sent me off on my own might sound cold, but it actually is what gave me the confidence to do the rest of the week the way I wanted to, and I'm really grateful to them.
I took a bus from their neighborhood that got me to the Tachana Mercazit with lots of time to spare, so I walked around inside and outside. The 99 is a double decker bus, bright red, that takes about 2 hours to drive past most of the significant sights of Jerusalem. It stops at many of thses sites so you can get off and get back on the next bus 2 hours later to continue the tour. While on the bus there is a recorded tour that you can listen to in your choice of about 8 languages. The cost is 45 shekels, about $9CAD. I was the only one on the bus when it started, so I got to sit in the front of the second floor. I had a great view of everything and really got a feel for what I wanted to come back to and look at longer. The bus passes most of the gates of the Old City but does not go inside.
We got back to the bus station at 10:45 or so. I decided to walk to the market at Machane Yehuda. I figured that whatever souveniers I bought, I would get less ripped off if I shopped where the locals do. I walked around the shops and stalls, bought a hat for myself, a kipa for one son, a skirt for my daughter. When I asked the price on the skirt, the salesman said 100 shekel. I said I'd think about it . 80 shekel. I told him I wanted to look around. 70 shekel. I walked out of the store. He put it in a bag and followed me, yelling 65 shekel! I bought the skirt. The I took a bus back to the bus station. I was at Binyanei HaOoma at 11:45, but he didn't get there until almost 1:00. Most of the time I spent with the other dad from Toronto, but after a while I met a mom from Australia whose son was rooming with mine, so we all waited together.
I took Yisrael Mordechai into the bus station to have lunch in the food court. Good thing to, because places were starting to close. Then we found a taxi that agreed to take us to the cemetary in Beit Shemesh and back. We found Zaidie's grave and said Tehillim for him, then found Aunt Shoshana and said Tehillim for her too. We got back to Moshe and Chani's and got ready for Shabbat. We had a lovely Shabbat dinner with Moshe and Chani, their kids and kids-in-law, a couple of grandkids and some guests.
The next morning, I woke up very early. Maishel had said he was going to 5:30am minyan, so I got dressed and went with him. We had Kiddush at home and sent the boys off to 7:30 minyan. Then Aunt Chani said she was going to shul. I decided to walk with her. When I dropped her off, it was 8:15. She reccomended that I walk around Meah Shearim and Beit Yisrael, and meet her at home at 10:30. I walked into Meah Shearim, then out of it, and realized the street I was on was Shivtei Yisrael. I knew from my maps and from the bus tour yesterday that this street leads to the Old City. Also there were lots of people walking down it. I was supposed to go to the Kotel at Mincha, so as to be able to take the bus back after Shabbat, but I couldn't wait any more. I walked straight down to Sha'ar Yafo. When I got to the gate I was actually trembling, almost afraid to go in. But I did. I followed a Chassidish-looking family (through the shuk) to the Kotel.
I'm going to have a hard time explaining the next bit. Seeing the Kotel for the first time as an adult, and not a young one. Maybe I should leave it to the imagination. One extraordinary thing, unique to the Women's area, is the silence. Women come, sit down pray, say Tehillim, or just stand at the stones. There is a certain amount of shifting around, as women leave the Wall and others take their places, but there is no talking. In that way, the changing of places, the coming and going, it reminded me of a Shiva house. Definitely the silence is louder than any words.
I left the Kotel (very reluctantly) in time to get back to Moshe and Chani's by 10:30.
Shabbat afternoon I asked Chani to help me find the home of the Machlis family (read about them in a blog page called The Machlis Experience). They are professionals in the mitzva of Hachnasat Orchim who often host 100 or more guests at their Shabbat meals. (They are also our cousins-in-law on the Witty side.) Chani knew where they lived, and of course the door was open. Rabbi and Mrs Machlis were sleeping, but I met some of their teenage kids and guests. Eventually Henny (Mrs. Machlis) came out and we had a nice talk. Her husband emerged only just in time for Mincha but said he would really love to meet my son, so Henny walked me back to the Poupkos to get him and he went with her to her house. After Shabbat, I picked him up and we went to catch the bus to Beit Shemesh to visit cousins there. It was quite late because he had stayed with Rabbi Machlis for so long, but he was not sorry.
My cousin in Beit Shemesh is Yona, daughter of Sima, my mother's sister. Sima took care of my son when he first arrived in Israel, including getting him picked up from the airport and even keeping her house Pesachdig for an extra day because it was still Yom Tov for him. Sima and her husband Yehuda met us at ZYona's house, thus saving me a trip to Beersheva to meet them. Everyone else was pretty tired, but Yona and I stayed up very late talking about our kids. Sunday morning she drove us to Yerushalayim because she was still working there. We took the road through Ein Keram, a beautiful road that twists and turns up and down the mountains. I'm really glad she showed us that route.
After I returned Yisrael Mordechai to his group, I took a bus the Old City, determined to see as much of it as possible in the one day I had allotted to it. First I took a tour of the Tower of David and the Jerusalem Museum. Then I wandered through the Old City, stopping at the Museum of the Old Yishuv, The Cardo, The Burnt House of Kathros, the Herodian Quarter, and the Churva Synagogue (which is being rebuilt). I then decided to daven Mincha at the Kotel. Not a bad choice, but one that resulted in my missing the Davidson Archeological Museum, which I really wanted to see. I walked out the Sha'ar Ha'ashpot, trying to get to the City of David, but I took a wrong turn. I walked around the outside of the walls, saw the Hulda Gates and the Golden Gate. I also saw Yad Avshalom, Zechariah Tomb, and the rest of the valley. I kept walking until I reached the Sha'ar Ha' Arayot, the Lion Gate. I knew that this was the route through which the Jews re-entered the Old City in 1967. I also knew that it led to the Via Dolorosa, which I mistakenly thought meant that it was the Christian Quarter. Oops. By the time I realized where I was (the Moslem Quarter, I decided to imitate a Dutch tourist. I walked as fast as I could, looking straight ahead. Then I turned to go out the Damascus Gate. When I got to the top of the steps, there was an Israeli police jeep. I sat on the step nearest to them to rest, then took a taxi back to Maishel's house. That night, my cousin Tal called and took me out to see Yemin Moshe and the parks around it. (He is the brother of cousin Yona.)
I would have loved to have had another day or two or more in the Old City, but I decided that I wanted to also see the museums. And I needed to get my son his laundry that he had left with me. Fortunately, the hostel where his group was staying was in that neighborhood. I also wanted to meet with the Jerusalem College of Technology, as they awarded him a scholarship for winning the Diaspora Chidon. I packed his stuff onto my backpack and set out. After dropping the load of clean laundry, I went to the Bible Lands Museum. There I met a very nice a professional guide. Since there was no one else interested at that time. She gave me a personally guided tour, lasting about 2 hours. Then I went to the Israel Museum. I caught an English-language tour of their Betzalel School exhibit, then one of the Shrine of the Book. That was really fascinating to me. After that I had to head over to the college in Givat Mordechai.
I took a bus back to the Tachana Mercazit, intending to do some souvenir shopping. I ran into Rita, the mom from Austaralia, and we headed over the Machane Yehuda together. She bought more than I did. She really tried to get me to attend the Rembemberance Day ceremony at Biyanei HaOoma with her, but I was so tired that I decided to miss it. I went 'home' and went to bed early.
Tuesday was my day for Masada. I had booked a tour through one of the bus companies. We picked people up and various hotels and then drove to Masada. The ride through the desert was incredible, a world of harsh, stark beauty. There were a few small settlements of Bedouins, shacks made from wooden pallets. Then there are the plantations of date palms planted by the kibbutzim. The Dead Sea, a blue bluer than the summer sky on the clearest day. Finally we arrived at Masada. The tour I was with was a bilingual one, so I heard everything in English and...German. Hearing the story of Jewish resistance and heroism of Masada in German was just to weird for words. Cognitive dissonance doesn't begin to describe it. (There were a lot of Dutch tourists around this week.) I was disappointed that we did not spend more time on the summit. I've been fascinated by Masada ever since I read Yigal Yadin's book about the excavations. (You all have it on your shelves, take it down and read it!) After about an hour we returned to the cable car. The bus took us to lunch at the restaurant in Ein Gedi and then to the spa.
I had never been to a spa before. This one is pretty bare-bones, operated by the Israeli Parks department or something. There are indoor changing areas, and pools to bathe in the waters of the hot springs. Outside is a mud depot, where you can plaster your skin with black mud from the Dead Sea, and then a tracor-pulled train to the Sea itself. I tried the mineral pools, which are warm and smelly. I skipped the black mud and went down to the sea. It's quite a trip, as the waters are steadily receding. About 40 people were floating in a small area roped by bouys. You can't swim in the water, it's too thick, and there are no waves. You can just float. After a few minutes, the salt was stinging my hands, and I got out and showered off. Even after such a short time, my skin did feel softer and smoother. We got back on the bus, where our guide and driver explained that they could accept tips in any major currency.
Back in Jerusalem, Aunt Chani and Uncle Maishel were out overnight with their daughter in Beit Shemesh. The daughter who was staying home wasn't feeling well. I thought about just going to bed early, but it was my last night in Israel, not to mention being the eve of Yom Ha'aztmaut. I took the bus to the Kotel, getting there in time to be part of the very moving special Ma'ariv service for Yom Ha'atzmaut. I've heard this service before, in Boston and in Toronto, but being at the Kotel for it was just incredible. Towards the end, the whole men's side of the Kotel made one big circle to sing Ani Ma'amin, led by Rabbi Mordechai Elon.
Yom Ha'atzmaut was all about the Chidon itself. My husband's cousin accepted our extra tickets for himself and three of his kids. They saved me a seat, which was good because there were more tickets distributed than the number of seats in the theater, and it took me a while to get through the security. Not only did they scan our bags and send our persons through metal detectors, but each person has to explain how they got their tickets. Also, each person's hands and cellphone are swabbed with something that dectects explosive residues. Finally the show starts, broadcast live.My son does pretty well, misses only one question, and comes in fourth. He smiles at me and even waves a few times. Afterwards, I go back to the cousin's house for his annual bar-b-que. Aunt Chani and I take a taxi back to her place. I pack up and the sherut takes me back to the airport.
L'Hitraot!
posted by tuesdaywishes at 1:13 AM
6 Comments:
Wow! I love it.
What a great trip. Now I want to go back.
I hate to say this, but you should have done this years ago. I took your sister 10 years ago, and even then I thought it was way overdue.
Sounds awesome I miss Israel.
Left a post on your other entry, but wanted to leave one here as well - sounds like an amazing experience. My son is headed to the Chidon Hatanach Olami next year and I would love your "pointers." My email is edforman100@yahoo.com
E Forman
great post-I am happy you enjoyed Jerusalem
how come you never came before?
Hi,
I just won the Chidon HaTanach from United States this past week. I am going to Israel next year Yom Haatzmaut. I am in 7th grade. Do you have any advice???
Thanks,
Josh
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