11 July 2007 -- An Unfamiliar Feeling

Having just watched the sun rise over the Jordanian mountains on the shore of the Dead Sea (and having done so in solitude on the beach since no one else wanted to wake up so early), I confess that I'm starting to get it. In the past five days, I have seen myriad sites of, memorials to, and relics from over 3000 years of history; I have visited high holy places as well as the lowest point on Earth; I have ridden in the vanguard of a camel caravan, breakfasted with Bedouins, and lain on top of what is called water only for lack of a better word; and I have eaten hummus at all three meals of the day. While I realize that each of these moments is actually just a tourist cliché that thousands (if not millions) of people experience every year, taken together they create an impression that transcends the postcard. And, of course, I'm not a tourist -- I'm an immigrant, an oleh chadash, an Israeli. So yeah, I'm beginning to get it. What's "it"? Are you ready??? Zionism. Okay, that's still a hard political nut for me to crack -- let alone swallow -- but the emotional part, the visceral part is starting to take hold. There is so much here to which it seems inevitable that people must lay claim.

Again, I find myself with way too much to say, and again, for my readers' sake and my own, I will resort to a photo essay kind of thing to narrate the past few days' adventures...

This is the Knesset, Israel's parliament building. We weren't able to get any closer than this. The edifice itself isn't particularly impressive, but some pretty important stuff goes on inside. In the park across the street, protesters are camped out. One tent had signs about insufficient help for Holocaust victims. Another claimed that a certain banking company is corrupt. A man without a tent just paced around, yelling that politicians are assholes. Democracy in action!


This is one of the children's memorials at Yad Vashem, a huge complex in Jerusalem dedicated to the victims of the Holocaust (or Sho'ah in Hebrew). The huge museum here is excellent; it doesn't necessarily cover different ground than the one in Washington, but there is always something new to learn (and to feel). At the end of our tour, several kids were complaining about how long it took; consequently, I became less impressed with several kids.


I saw T-Mac at the Jerusalem Mall! Okay, so it was just a poster. He's quite a cultural ambassador, huh? Malls in Israel are surprisingly similar to malls in the U.S. -- perhaps a bit smaller in general, and with anomalous spice vendors set up amidst the wireless phone kiosks, but ultimately quite recognizable as malls. The best time to go is Saturday night, after Shabbat is over, when the stores re-open until 11:00 or later. All the cool kids are wandering about -- and their parents, too!


After leaving Jerusalem, we visited the Hebrew Israelite community in Dimona. This "Village of Peace" is peopled by a couple thousand former African Americans and their children. (The modestly dressed folks in the picture above are the community members.) In 1969, visionary Ben Ammi and a few dozen of his followers arrived in Israel (from Chicago via Liberia) claiming to be descendants of Abraham and Isaac with a right to settle in the Holy Land as per the Law of Return. Their trials and tribulations are too complicated to relate here, but the result is a thriving utopian neighborhood of English- and Hebrew-speaking, quasi-Jewish, holistically medicating, polygamist, teetotaling vegans. It's baffling that such a community exists anywhere. Even the Israelis (who are used to odd multiculturalism based on mass immigration from around the world) think it's weird.


Here I am about to enjoy soy-based soft-serve made by the Hebrew Israelites. I could totally live here! I mean, I think I could overlook the polygamy and tolerate the mandatory prayer services. Hey, it's hard to find good non-dairy frozen dessert! Seriously, though, this is a pretty amazing community. The teenage tour guides were articulate, mature, and friendly, and they showcased with genuine pride their simple neighborhood facilities. Sababa!


That is I aboard "Alanis" at the Mamshit Camel Ranch. If Mam means "smell of" and shit means "shit," then this is a remarkably well-named place! I'm not sure that I've ever ridden a camel before, and I'm not sure I ever will again. Alanis needed her shocks adjusted (or at least a softer saddle).


Here is a Bedouin man playing a traditional tune on the oud. During the presentation, his cell phone rang. Irony is awesome! (Now you know how the camel got her name.)


I'm standing in an excavated room of Herod's palace at Masada. It's part of a large fortress built at the top of an incredibly steep mountain. This section is literally carved into the cliff wall. Of course, Herod himself didn't do the work. In fact, he had his laborers build two swimming pools so that no extended period of desert refuge would deprive him of the bare necessities. Because of its location, Masada defies good photography (except from a helicopter, I guess). It's extremely impressive in person, though -- especially if you know the story...


In 70 CE, Roman soldiers laid siege to Masada, where almost 1000 Jewish rebels had sought sanctuary. The Romans forced Jewish slaves to build this dirt-and-stone ramp (at the lower left of the picture) so that the army could storm the fortress. (I guess the cable car wasn't quite finished yet.) Before the Romans entered, though, the Jewish rebels decided on mass suicide as opposed to enslavement. This story still serves as an inspiration to zealous Zionists, whose mantra is "Masada shall not fall again!"


Hmm... The picture doesn't do it justice, but floating in the Dead Sea is actually very cool...if you can get over the suspicious warmth and unctuosity of the water. In fact, it's hard not to float. The water coaxes one's legs to the surface even if one is merely trying to stand up. Definitely try this some time, but I don't recommend a summer visit. The lowest place on Earth tends to get a bit balmy in July -- and by "balmy," I mean "broiling."


This is David's Waterfall in the Ein Gedi Nature Reserve, an oasis amidst the otherwise unforgiving desert surrounding the Dead Sea. We saw an ibex and a hyrax, which is cool not just because they're interesting animals, but also because their names both end in x. How often does that happen?


Finally, here is the Dead Sea sunrise about which I wrote at the beginning of this post (oh so long ago). Before too much time passes, I hope to see the sun set from the other side, but this will have to do for now. While I am still torn regarding the politics of this region, I am relieved to feel so touched by its cultural and geographical features. Perhaps there's hope for me as an Israeli, after all...