Okay -- perhaps that's an exaggeration to say that political consultants hitting new lows and engage in mudslinging is a news flash (Editor's note: strike the word "perhaps").
But after a quick trip to the Masada gift shop (slogan: "You'd be committing suicide if you don't buy anything here!"), we took a short drive along the shores of the Dead Sea to a resort area.
The shores of the Dead Sea is the lowest point on Earth (nearly as low as a US political campaign can reach!). We pulled into a nice resort in an area that has a slew of resorts (after miles, and miles of nothing but the occasional oasis). We were able to change in their locker rooms.
The Dead Sea is a popular weekend trip, particularly for those seeking spa treatment or skin care (people with psoriasis often have it "cured" for months on end after a visit). The resorts have pools, spas, spa treatments, and nice restaurants. Given the desert climate and summer time heat, the only thing missing are casinos (hmmm, I sense a bipartisan business opportunity!).
We changed, and some of the folks bought bags of mud for twelve shekels (or $3) for mudbathing (go ahead and laugh -- you would think consultants would have their own mud handy at all times). Ed, Tom King, and I were the first three out in the water. It wasn't what we expected (although, frankly, I'm not what we expected).
After walking on a rubber ramp to protect our feet from the hailstone sized pieces of salt at the bottom, we gently flopped on our backs and floated. Due to the hypersalinization, you can't not float (I know, a double negative, but it's just a blog, not an English paper!). We found that it was hard to stand upright in the water -- my feet would immediately bob to the surface. When people got out of the water, some would be covered with salt, while others not so much.
Others joined us, included some who had muddied up. The water was relatively warm. After a bit, I was cajoled into putting on some mud (I have no pictures, so there will be none on the blog). Jim, Aaron, and I smeared mud all over ourselves (the three of us are pretty comfortable with our heterosexual selves, as we also smeared on each other's backs and shoulders). Aaron and I put some on our faces, and Jim went 90% commando, smearing all over his face. (Ummm, 100% commando would have been too much to contemplate, but Jim did keep his bathing suit on). Others had muddied up to, but I'm not sure they were quite as entertaining -- although Chip gave us a run for the money.
Like a dipped Dairy Queen cone (and we are pretty much vanilla white), the mud dried and hardened in the sun. Once back in the water, the mud slowly came off, making our skin silky smooth (again, that's written as a heterosexual married guy with three children).
Ed had ignored the warnings not to shave, as he did shave his neck, and that provided some stinging. But that was an Einstein move compared to Jim and Aaron dunking their muddy faces in the water despite repeated warnings not to do so. (As children, they liked wetting their fingers and sticking them in electrical outlets). Ian and Marilyn's repeated predictions of pain came true for them. As John Madden once said, "Irony can be so ironic" -- a TV guy and a mail guy stung by their own mudslinging. I had the good sense to simply shower the mud off my face.
We then enjoy a Sabbath buffet lunch after others had hit the spa and Lee had a massage. We were all feeling pretty resorty. On the way back, some spotted an Ibex on a hill. We also caught a stunning view of the Old City after the bus went through the Mount of Olives tunnel.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
"This Unique, Beautiful Life"
The title of the last of my third "Riffs" on the Israel trip was inspired by our hostess at the kibbutz we had lunch at on the Golan Heights (see the post about the "terrorist" attack). She was talking about her life since late 1960s on the kibbutz -- the challenges, threats, upsides, and hope of their lives. She talked about how much "this unique, beautiful life" meant to her -- and it stuck with me as a good description of how many of the Israelis we talked to felt about their lives.
I've been back in the States for 48 hours now, just two posts away from finishing the blog. I'm struck most by the diversity of the people, the land, and their lives under the most trying of circumstances. All throughout history, people have been resilient. However, no nation has been as resilient under such odds and such firepower as Israel.
It's a country I definitely want to go back to and take my family. It may just be with my wife Carol in ten years or so, or maybe all five of us can carve out time. If you haven't been, there's no reason not to. I never felt unsafe, although it was clear there were places where we shouldn't/couldn't go. That's not to say something might not happen -- of course something can happen, but other types of danger lurks everywhere in the world, including in the U.S. A suicide bomber isn't any more or less random than a nut with a gun who shoots up a nursing home (as happened in NC while we were returning from Israel).
Okay, there is a difference -- Israel is constantly under siege, and the U.S. generally is not (I note "generally" as to acknowledge the threat of terrorism on US soil). But, if you want to visit a place of literally Biblical proportions in history, beauty, and resilience, go to Israel.
A few other notes:
I've been back in the States for 48 hours now, just two posts away from finishing the blog. I'm struck most by the diversity of the people, the land, and their lives under the most trying of circumstances. All throughout history, people have been resilient. However, no nation has been as resilient under such odds and such firepower as Israel.
It's a country I definitely want to go back to and take my family. It may just be with my wife Carol in ten years or so, or maybe all five of us can carve out time. If you haven't been, there's no reason not to. I never felt unsafe, although it was clear there were places where we shouldn't/couldn't go. That's not to say something might not happen -- of course something can happen, but other types of danger lurks everywhere in the world, including in the U.S. A suicide bomber isn't any more or less random than a nut with a gun who shoots up a nursing home (as happened in NC while we were returning from Israel).
Okay, there is a difference -- Israel is constantly under siege, and the U.S. generally is not (I note "generally" as to acknowledge the threat of terrorism on US soil). But, if you want to visit a place of literally Biblical proportions in history, beauty, and resilience, go to Israel.
A few other notes:
- I've said it before, but the food was fabulous. Mediterrean at its heart, the diversity of options was great.
- Okay, so while on the trip I totally blanked on links -- I will at some point go back and add clickable links to the blog. My bad.
- The north of Israel ranks among the most beautiful places on earth.
- More countries need a program like AIEF puts on. I'm just sayin' I'll be happy to volunteer for those trips too!
- As Rob Stutzman's former boss would say, "I'll be back."
Ian Talking, Us Listening
Despite how he talks with his hands, there's no truth to the rumor that he's actually Italian-American.
"A Nation of Bad-Asses"
Relatively early on, one of the group quipped that Israel is "a nation of bad-asses." Given their embattled security situation, and the need for nearly all to spend time in the military and then the reserves, this is definitely not a country to be messed with (which is why Anwar Sadat went from war to peace).
There's no better proof of that than where we went Saturday morning -- to Masada. To get there, we drove through what we are told is the smallest desert in the world -- the Judean Desert. It was there that we actually saw the desert that we thought was more geographically dominant. We saw camels roaming around, Bedouin shanty towns, and some very stark and beautiful terrain.
We passed within a distance of the Palestinian town of Jericho (where as yet, no archaeological evidence of tumbling walls have been found, but, as Ian stresses, just because it doesn't exist doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Apparently, until the Second Intifada, there was a thriving casino in Jericho where Palestinians would work and Jews would drive over from Jerusalem/Israel to gamble. That source of jobs and revenue has been closed since. That fact that it existed at all is further evidence of what a long, strange trip it's been for the last 60 years, where borders and travel patterns shift often.
As we drove down to Masada, between the cliffs to our right (East) and the Dead Sea to our left (ergo West), and Jordan perched just across the Dead Sea, the land took on an eerily beautiful quality, with the occasional oasis intermixed. At Qumran, Ian pointed out some of the caves in which the Dead Sea scrolls were found.
Masada is the genesis (no pun intended, well -- maybe intended) of the "nation of bad-asses" (btw, "bad-asses" should be pronounced as one word, as a pause in-between implies something derogatory not meant at all). Rather than recap the history of Masada (see the link if you need it), I'll focus on our experience (which turned out better for us than it did for the Jews holed up here against the Romans).
We didn't have time for the 45 minute hike straight up the Snake Path (when I go next time), so we took the cable car up the cliffs. It's a little freaky walking the hanging ramp (with a pretty healthy drop below). When we got there, Ian gave us an in-depth briefing on the history of Masada, and why it was built.
(In the future, Ian will be able to be purchased as a Star Wars like recording, and then your droid will beam him into the air and he'll brief people without even having to be there. Remember the part where R2D2 shows Princess Leia beseeching for help? Just like that. The future will be so cool.)
We then walked around grounds, including the bath house and parts of Herod's palace. The views were staggering -- as stunning as the stories of Masada. It is now thought that the whole story of mass suicide is a bit of an exaggeration, but did happen on some scale. It is believed by historians that the Romans killed some Jews as well, but let's not mess with Hollywood.
Ian gave us a good look at how the water system worked to collect plenty of H2O -- an ingenious system to capture enough to survive a long time.
Pictures don't do Masada justice -- it is a place that has to be seen to be believed. Perched high about the Dead Sea on a rocky cliff, you can look down and see the outline of the siege wall and Roman forts.
There's no better proof of that than where we went Saturday morning -- to Masada. To get there, we drove through what we are told is the smallest desert in the world -- the Judean Desert. It was there that we actually saw the desert that we thought was more geographically dominant. We saw camels roaming around, Bedouin shanty towns, and some very stark and beautiful terrain.
We passed within a distance of the Palestinian town of Jericho (where as yet, no archaeological evidence of tumbling walls have been found, but, as Ian stresses, just because it doesn't exist doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Apparently, until the Second Intifada, there was a thriving casino in Jericho where Palestinians would work and Jews would drive over from Jerusalem/Israel to gamble. That source of jobs and revenue has been closed since. That fact that it existed at all is further evidence of what a long, strange trip it's been for the last 60 years, where borders and travel patterns shift often.
As we drove down to Masada, between the cliffs to our right (East) and the Dead Sea to our left (ergo West), and Jordan perched just across the Dead Sea, the land took on an eerily beautiful quality, with the occasional oasis intermixed. At Qumran, Ian pointed out some of the caves in which the Dead Sea scrolls were found.
Masada is the genesis (no pun intended, well -- maybe intended) of the "nation of bad-asses" (btw, "bad-asses" should be pronounced as one word, as a pause in-between implies something derogatory not meant at all). Rather than recap the history of Masada (see the link if you need it), I'll focus on our experience (which turned out better for us than it did for the Jews holed up here against the Romans).
We didn't have time for the 45 minute hike straight up the Snake Path (when I go next time), so we took the cable car up the cliffs. It's a little freaky walking the hanging ramp (with a pretty healthy drop below). When we got there, Ian gave us an in-depth briefing on the history of Masada, and why it was built.
(In the future, Ian will be able to be purchased as a Star Wars like recording, and then your droid will beam him into the air and he'll brief people without even having to be there. Remember the part where R2D2 shows Princess Leia beseeching for help? Just like that. The future will be so cool.)
We then walked around grounds, including the bath house and parts of Herod's palace. The views were staggering -- as stunning as the stories of Masada. It is now thought that the whole story of mass suicide is a bit of an exaggeration, but did happen on some scale. It is believed by historians that the Romans killed some Jews as well, but let's not mess with Hollywood.
Ian gave us a good look at how the water system worked to collect plenty of H2O -- an ingenious system to capture enough to survive a long time.
Pictures don't do Masada justice -- it is a place that has to be seen to be believed. Perched high about the Dead Sea on a rocky cliff, you can look down and see the outline of the siege wall and Roman forts.
Sabbath Dinner
Friday night, we walked to a nearby house for Sabbath dinner with Tom Sawicki and his family. Sabbath remains a big deal even among secular Jews in Israel -- it is a quiet time to spend with friends and family, reflecting on the week. Starting befroe sundown, the country virtually shuts down -- few shops and restaurants are open, few cars are on the road.
It was a nice way to end our last full day in Israel. First, at the prompting of Tom's wife, we each shared a little more personal information about ourselves, as well as what most memorable about the week for us. We were served a fine catered meal, and everyone conversed with those around them. I talked primarily with Lee about travel, as well as with Tom's 20 year old son about his combined studies/military life (I'll say it again -- in Israel, young people have to grow up very, very fast). Further evidence of bipartisan comity (or comedy?) came when we also had a cake that some of the Dems had worked with AIEF to arrange in honor of Chip's birthday.
Because it caters to foreigners, the hotel bar was one of the few businesses still open, so we headed there (I know, shocking) to cap off the week. The bar wasn't open late, so we doubled up on our order. Once the booze ran out, we weren't ready to call it a night. So Maren tried to hunt down the key (apparently she's done that before) as we were profiles in courage and didn't lift a finger to help her. Finally one of the other members of the crew headed around the corner to the Hotel lobby and convinced (with generous tips, of course) a member of the hotel staff to open up the bar and pull out some additional Gold Star beers.
With a busy day looming, the rest of us called it a day around 1 am, although Maren and Aaron apparently got into some bottle cap flipping contest. There is no agreement between the two who won, but the rest of us agree that by not staying up an extra hours, we were the real winners of that pointless contest (Luckily for those who missed the highlights on SportsCenter, I'm sure there will be a rematch at the reunion).
It was a nice way to end our last full day in Israel. First, at the prompting of Tom's wife, we each shared a little more personal information about ourselves, as well as what most memorable about the week for us. We were served a fine catered meal, and everyone conversed with those around them. I talked primarily with Lee about travel, as well as with Tom's 20 year old son about his combined studies/military life (I'll say it again -- in Israel, young people have to grow up very, very fast). Further evidence of bipartisan comity (or comedy?) came when we also had a cake that some of the Dems had worked with AIEF to arrange in honor of Chip's birthday.
Because it caters to foreigners, the hotel bar was one of the few businesses still open, so we headed there (I know, shocking) to cap off the week. The bar wasn't open late, so we doubled up on our order. Once the booze ran out, we weren't ready to call it a night. So Maren tried to hunt down the key (apparently she's done that before) as we were profiles in courage and didn't lift a finger to help her. Finally one of the other members of the crew headed around the corner to the Hotel lobby and convinced (with generous tips, of course) a member of the hotel staff to open up the bar and pull out some additional Gold Star beers.
With a busy day looming, the rest of us called it a day around 1 am, although Maren and Aaron apparently got into some bottle cap flipping contest. There is no agreement between the two who won, but the rest of us agree that by not staying up an extra hours, we were the real winners of that pointless contest (Luckily for those who missed the highlights on SportsCenter, I'm sure there will be a rematch at the reunion).
Monday, March 30, 2009
Shared Experiences, Different Points of View
Well, we're back in the States now, and have been for more than 24 hours. I still have a few more posts to write tonight -- Sabbath dinner, Masada, the Dead Sea, and a few more riffs.
However, before I write those, just a quick acknowledgement of appreciation to the AIEF folks, as well as my fellow attendees on the trip. This blog is written by me, and from my point of view of the trip. I couldn't try to capture everything we did, everything we laughed at, and (thankfully) everything Aaron and Tom King drank.
We all had shared (albeit slightly different) experiences, and we all took different things from the trip. We had different perspectives on what was said. This blog doesn't try to cover all points of view of the people on the trip (so don't worry, Tom King, no kumbaya moments going on here!)
Instead, this blog is an attempt for me to share my experiences with family and friends, and when I read it in the future, it will trigger other memories.
However, before I write those, just a quick acknowledgement of appreciation to the AIEF folks, as well as my fellow attendees on the trip. This blog is written by me, and from my point of view of the trip. I couldn't try to capture everything we did, everything we laughed at, and (thankfully) everything Aaron and Tom King drank.
We all had shared (albeit slightly different) experiences, and we all took different things from the trip. We had different perspectives on what was said. This blog doesn't try to cover all points of view of the people on the trip (so don't worry, Tom King, no kumbaya moments going on here!)
Instead, this blog is an attempt for me to share my experiences with family and friends, and when I read it in the future, it will trigger other memories.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
An Archaeological Site
After the kibbutz, the bus driver earned our undying appreciation, because he brought us safely down one of the most dangerous switchback roads I have ever been on. It was no easy task -- at points he virtually had to stop the bus. For sport, we looked in the canyons cascading down the side of the Golan Heights and counted cars that did make the turns -- and tumbled down into the canyons. There were also a number of caves and bunkers used in the fighting. Just across the small valley is Jordanian territory.
Driving along the border with Jordan, we came to the Bet She'an Archaeological Site. Bet She'an was a city that lasted for more than 900 years at a strategically significant location before being mostly destroyed by an earthquake in 749. For more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bet_She%27an
The city reminded me a lot of Pompeii. Ian was our expert guide, showing us the baths, the main streets and shops, the (whoops, blanking on the name, but essentially the theater/stage), and the public toilets. (As an aside to my fellow travelers -- I get it, my humor at Bet She'an was a bit of a failure. Even Bob Newhart had the occasional miss.)
We could have spent more time there, but there is no question it should be on any traveler's list of things to see in Israel. And, this was right in Ian's wheelhouse, so his expert guidework here was a highlight of the trip.
Driving along the border with Jordan, we came to the Bet She'an Archaeological Site. Bet She'an was a city that lasted for more than 900 years at a strategically significant location before being mostly destroyed by an earthquake in 749. For more info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bet_She%27an
The city reminded me a lot of Pompeii. Ian was our expert guide, showing us the baths, the main streets and shops, the (whoops, blanking on the name, but essentially the theater/stage), and the public toilets. (As an aside to my fellow travelers -- I get it, my humor at Bet She'an was a bit of a failure. Even Bob Newhart had the occasional miss.)
We could have spent more time there, but there is no question it should be on any traveler's list of things to see in Israel. And, this was right in Ian's wheelhouse, so his expert guidework here was a highlight of the trip.
In Which Our Heroes Survive A Terrorist Attack. Well, Sort Of.
After the Sea of Galilee, we drove up the Golan Heights. As we drove up, I remembered back to the Yom Kippur War of 1973, when the Israelis defended the territory they had captured during the Six Day War of 1967.
It's strange to see how peaceful and beautiful it is -- I half expected it to be bristling with guns. On either side of the road going up, however, there are fenced off fields with warnings about passing marked minefields (apparently a hiker wander into a minefield not to long ago and was killed by a mine). Cows occasionally bust through for greener pastures and end up as hamburger for Eagles.
As we drove along the Golan Heights, we could see into Syria. I remembered the strategic importance of the Golan from the 1973 war, and it is amazing that Israeli tanks and paratroopers were able to crush and drive back the Syrian tanks that had the terrain advantage in 1967.
Lunch was at the Kibbutz Kfar Haruv Dining Hall, perched on the edge of Golan Heights.
But first, there was a scary moment of actual danger (well, scary to Aaron, actual danger to all). While Tom Sawicki and Ian were talking about the history of the back and forth of the Golan, and how Syrians used to lob shells and sniper fire at the kibbutzs below. We were standing at the edge of the heights, when suddenly I noticed a swarm of flies of Biblical proportions heading our way. Our security team told us to duck (and by “told” I don’t mean “asked, suggested, requested, or beseeched” I mean “commanded.”) We all hit the ground and waited patiently for the huge swarm of buzzing bees (the group later dubbed the swarm "Syrian Killer Bees chanting Hizbollah slogans") that took a while to pass. While most had caught the buzz that something was up, Aaron’s first thought that there was an incoming Syrian missiles. There was no visual evidence that he wet himself.
Lunch on the kibbutz was good, and the view of the entire Galilee area was commanding and beautiful. Someone who had lived on the kibbutz since the late 1960s (when it started after the territory was conquered) talked a bit about life on the kibbutz. One regret was that we didn't get to spend enough to with her, asking questions and learning more.
It's strange to see how peaceful and beautiful it is -- I half expected it to be bristling with guns. On either side of the road going up, however, there are fenced off fields with warnings about passing marked minefields (apparently a hiker wander into a minefield not to long ago and was killed by a mine). Cows occasionally bust through for greener pastures and end up as hamburger for Eagles.
As we drove along the Golan Heights, we could see into Syria. I remembered the strategic importance of the Golan from the 1973 war, and it is amazing that Israeli tanks and paratroopers were able to crush and drive back the Syrian tanks that had the terrain advantage in 1967.
Lunch was at the Kibbutz Kfar Haruv Dining Hall, perched on the edge of Golan Heights.
But first, there was a scary moment of actual danger (well, scary to Aaron, actual danger to all). While Tom Sawicki and Ian were talking about the history of the back and forth of the Golan, and how Syrians used to lob shells and sniper fire at the kibbutzs below. We were standing at the edge of the heights, when suddenly I noticed a swarm of flies of Biblical proportions heading our way. Our security team told us to duck (and by “told” I don’t mean “asked, suggested, requested, or beseeched” I mean “commanded.”) We all hit the ground and waited patiently for the huge swarm of buzzing bees (the group later dubbed the swarm "Syrian Killer Bees chanting Hizbollah slogans") that took a while to pass. While most had caught the buzz that something was up, Aaron’s first thought that there was an incoming Syrian missiles. There was no visual evidence that he wet himself.
Lunch on the kibbutz was good, and the view of the entire Galilee area was commanding and beautiful. Someone who had lived on the kibbutz since the late 1960s (when it started after the territory was conquered) talked a bit about life on the kibbutz. One regret was that we didn't get to spend enough to with her, asking questions and learning more.
Live Your Best Life!
There was time for some fun in Galilee -- the trip wasn't all done in a contemplative state. Thursday night after free time, we went to dinner to a restaurant caled Decks right on the Sea of Galilee. The town of Tiberias is a beach/resort town – restaurants, hotels, guest houses. The wine was flowing and the meat was being slung. (Poor Chip was still skipping dinner – he was the brink of health recovery, but not quite there year.). Dinner speakers have been great, but it was also nice not to have one that night – the group talked in clusters, and since I was at a key pass in between two groups, I bounced back and forth between a group of the guys and a group of the women.
(A note on Israeli wine. I enjoyed ever bottle I had there – and we drank a range. I guess I was expecting the Boone’s Farm equivalent of badly done kosher wine we have in the states. It will be interesting to find out if good Israeli wine is available in the states, or if they keep the good stuff in their country and send us the swill. A post-trip research project! I am not a wine snob – I’ve had plenty of good bottles under $10, and had some for much more that I didn’t care for. My motto is drink what you like – if you don’t like it, don’t drink it – and if you do like it, go for it. I found plenty to like.)
Anyhow, we headed back to the Maagan kibbutz hotel and gathered at the bar. The bartender said she wasn’t staying open much later. She was immediately tipped $20. More money flowed her way. So, when I went to bed a little after 1 am, the bar that was closing at 11am was still going strong. A group of political consultants had provided their own significant stimulus package to the Southern Shores of Galilee.
Apparently a number of folks, decided to stay up order more beer, and then wander down to the Sea of Galilee. Between Aaron, Tom King, Moira (who lost her purse for a while), and Ed (if missing anyone, that can be correct for the blog).
It happened to be the start of Daylight Savings Time in the country – so the group got even less sleep. Ed had breakfast while wearing sunglasses (yes, inside). We gathered like obedient children afraid of Marilyn’s wrath at the bus at the appointed time of 8:30 am. Except Tom and Aaron. Duffy and I gleefully went off to pound on their doors. After a bit, Aaron threw open the door – informed it was “8:35", he noted “you’re kidding me.” Gleefully I showed him my watch. "Expletive deleted," was his next comment. Thankfully hAaron wore his pink Izod shirt and boxers, or he’d have been even more comical than the dazed and confused look he pro-offered.
King was even harder to wake, but at least when he slouched up to the bus, he was making a strong statement about how he felt – wearing an “Oprah” hat with the slogan “Live Your Best Life.” Those of us who hadn’t part of the foolish 4:30 am crowd were partly relieved at our own good “discipline” (used in a relative sense given our night) and partly wishing we had been there. Kind of.
(A note on Israeli wine. I enjoyed ever bottle I had there – and we drank a range. I guess I was expecting the Boone’s Farm equivalent of badly done kosher wine we have in the states. It will be interesting to find out if good Israeli wine is available in the states, or if they keep the good stuff in their country and send us the swill. A post-trip research project! I am not a wine snob – I’ve had plenty of good bottles under $10, and had some for much more that I didn’t care for. My motto is drink what you like – if you don’t like it, don’t drink it – and if you do like it, go for it. I found plenty to like.)
Anyhow, we headed back to the Maagan kibbutz hotel and gathered at the bar. The bartender said she wasn’t staying open much later. She was immediately tipped $20. More money flowed her way. So, when I went to bed a little after 1 am, the bar that was closing at 11am was still going strong. A group of political consultants had provided their own significant stimulus package to the Southern Shores of Galilee.
Apparently a number of folks, decided to stay up order more beer, and then wander down to the Sea of Galilee. Between Aaron, Tom King, Moira (who lost her purse for a while), and Ed (if missing anyone, that can be correct for the blog).
It happened to be the start of Daylight Savings Time in the country – so the group got even less sleep. Ed had breakfast while wearing sunglasses (yes, inside). We gathered like obedient children afraid of Marilyn’s wrath at the bus at the appointed time of 8:30 am. Except Tom and Aaron. Duffy and I gleefully went off to pound on their doors. After a bit, Aaron threw open the door – informed it was “8:35", he noted “you’re kidding me.” Gleefully I showed him my watch. "Expletive deleted," was his next comment. Thankfully hAaron wore his pink Izod shirt and boxers, or he’d have been even more comical than the dazed and confused look he pro-offered.
King was even harder to wake, but at least when he slouched up to the bus, he was making a strong statement about how he felt – wearing an “Oprah” hat with the slogan “Live Your Best Life.” Those of us who hadn’t part of the foolish 4:30 am crowd were partly relieved at our own good “discipline” (used in a relative sense given our night) and partly wishing we had been there. Kind of.
Blessed Are the Political Consultants, For We Really Need It
Once Tom and Aaron were groggily on the bus, we head back across the Jordan River North to the Mount of Beatitudes, Capernaum, and the area of the miracle of the Loaves and Fishes.
The Mount of Beatitudes was marginally disappointing to me. It's the site of the Sermon on the Mount, but there is a church, a gift shop, and some other buildings on the site. I was envisioning a quiet hill with grass and rocks (like in the time of Jesus). Certainly all around the Sea of Galilee, including the hills on either side, there are beautiful hills that are more evocative of the time He was alive and preaching.
However, the next two stops on the Jesus Day were much more moving. We went to Capernaum, also known as the town of Jesus (there are numerous references to Jesus preaching and spending time in Capernaum). We saw the remains of the town, including Peter's house and two of the earliest Christian Churches (built on top of each other).We toured the town’s synagogue. Ian weaved together history, archaeology, and religion in a non-judgmental, fair way. He talked about the miracles of Jesus without debating whether or not they happened. His perspective is that history and archaeology go hand-in-glove when learning about religion. Miracles he ascribes to a matter of faith.
From there, we went to a seaside location where it is believed that the miracle of the loaves and fishes occured along the Sea of Galilee -- with a beautiful small church built around a rock that Jesus may have used during the miracle. We then went down to the water, took off our shoes, and rolled up our pants and waded into the Sea of Galilee. We filled bottles up with water from the Sea of Galilee. No other groups/people were there yet, so it was a very peaceful moment.
Oh, and then Jim saw a dead catfish in the reeds, so he went and picked it up. Tom Sawicki was cautioning not to pick it up, but Tom doesn't understand the life of a Louisiana media consultant. Jim posed for photos. The catfish? It didn't make it onto the lunch menu.
The Mount of Beatitudes was marginally disappointing to me. It's the site of the Sermon on the Mount, but there is a church, a gift shop, and some other buildings on the site. I was envisioning a quiet hill with grass and rocks (like in the time of Jesus). Certainly all around the Sea of Galilee, including the hills on either side, there are beautiful hills that are more evocative of the time He was alive and preaching.
However, the next two stops on the Jesus Day were much more moving. We went to Capernaum, also known as the town of Jesus (there are numerous references to Jesus preaching and spending time in Capernaum). We saw the remains of the town, including Peter's house and two of the earliest Christian Churches (built on top of each other).We toured the town’s synagogue. Ian weaved together history, archaeology, and religion in a non-judgmental, fair way. He talked about the miracles of Jesus without debating whether or not they happened. His perspective is that history and archaeology go hand-in-glove when learning about religion. Miracles he ascribes to a matter of faith.
From there, we went to a seaside location where it is believed that the miracle of the loaves and fishes occured along the Sea of Galilee -- with a beautiful small church built around a rock that Jesus may have used during the miracle. We then went down to the water, took off our shoes, and rolled up our pants and waded into the Sea of Galilee. We filled bottles up with water from the Sea of Galilee. No other groups/people were there yet, so it was a very peaceful moment.
Oh, and then Jim saw a dead catfish in the reeds, so he went and picked it up. Tom Sawicki was cautioning not to pick it up, but Tom doesn't understand the life of a Louisiana media consultant. Jim posed for photos. The catfish? It didn't make it onto the lunch menu.
Wake Up The Echoes
I'm jump around days here, but in real time I'm back home in Virginia now, so it's time to get caught up on the blog. On late Thursday afternoon, after the visit to the Lebanese border and the Kibbutz, we drove down through the mountains, to the sea of Galilee, and across the River Jordan -- which isn't so wide.
The first few days of the trip dealt primarily with the politics in Israel – we had boots on the ground at the exciting time a Likud-Labor unity government was being built. Then, the focus of the trip shifted to security – starting with Yad Vashem and the lessons of the Holocaust to point out that the Jews had a recent reason to dig their boots into their land. Now, it is shifting more towards historical/Biblical Israel. That’s not to say history wasn’t covered early (certainly as we talked about Jerusalem), or that security was not a focus of our visit to the Golan Heights. But the days had themes, and we moved into the stories of yesteryear (going back well before the age of Jesus.
Adter we checked in, I wandered down to the beach at the Sea of Galiliee. With the exception of the lights of the houses, you can feel that the area is similar to the time of the Christ. It was an emotional moment for me. There is a very spiritual feel to that area – to me, much more so then in Jerusalem, because of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre covering up the land where Jesus was crucified, died, buried, and rose again from the dead.
The first few days of the trip dealt primarily with the politics in Israel – we had boots on the ground at the exciting time a Likud-Labor unity government was being built. Then, the focus of the trip shifted to security – starting with Yad Vashem and the lessons of the Holocaust to point out that the Jews had a recent reason to dig their boots into their land. Now, it is shifting more towards historical/Biblical Israel. That’s not to say history wasn’t covered early (certainly as we talked about Jerusalem), or that security was not a focus of our visit to the Golan Heights. But the days had themes, and we moved into the stories of yesteryear (going back well before the age of Jesus.
Adter we checked in, I wandered down to the beach at the Sea of Galiliee. With the exception of the lights of the houses, you can feel that the area is similar to the time of the Christ. It was an emotional moment for me. There is a very spiritual feel to that area – to me, much more so then in Jerusalem, because of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre covering up the land where Jesus was crucified, died, buried, and rose again from the dead.
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