"If you need a little touch of America, go to the West Bank"

"Hey, want to go to Bethlehem with us?" "SURE!" 

You hear a lot of things about the West Bank. In America, there is an insecurity about this Palestinian land. In Israel, the opinions range, as do those of international students. Our schools and sometimes our families tell us that it is unsafe to go there. I have heard many people say, "The West Bank? Yeah, I'd love to go. But I'm Jewish. And I LOOK Jewish." (I always find that statement funny as I feel like internationals are identified more with their nation than with their religion, especially as the Jewish stereotypes that exist in America are not the exact ones that exist about Israeli Jews.) Other people are very nonchalant about it. I didn't know what to think, but I decided that, regardless, I was going to go. 

I was invited on this trip by a friend who is interning with the UN. He absolutely loves wandering around the West Bank and he served as our tour guide throughout, explaining to us the political tensions, the best places to get fried chicken, and what we should see. 

We boarded a bus at Damascus Gate. An Arab bus. That is really what people call them. Paid our 10 shekels and began to make our way through suburbs of Jerusalem that I have never seen before. All of a sudden, we were surrounded simply by hills with little groupings of houses on top of them. Some of them were settlements, distinguishable in their defiant-neatness. Others were Arab cities, looking much more ramshackle but filled with building materials, as though no one could decide whether they were being built up or torn down. 

The security barrier, which DOES not follow the green line at all.
In some places, it is simply a fence, in others it is a wall, and in
some places it looks like this. The overhang is so that people
cannot shoot down at cars.

As you can see, the Security Barrier cuts through many parts of the West Bank that it is not supposed to. Very clever, if you think about it, but it really, really has hurt the lives of Palestinians. It separates many farmers from their crops, people from their schools and jobs etc. It makes commuting disastrous and frustrating. Israel is taking over more land than it is supposed to regardless of the people whom they are taking the land from. One of the many things that I spent this short trip contemplating. 

Green line = The line drawn in 1949 to demarcate
the difference between Israel and a potential
Palestine. The red line is the part of the security
fence that has been completed. The purple is the part that
is planned, as is the blue.

 The wall has been covered in art and words. This is not a phenomenon isolated in Palestine; art covers many walls in Israel. But it was obvious that the Security Barrier was a very relevant canvas for the people's protests, messages, thoughts, hopes etc.

Hoofing it in Haifa

6:45 WHY AM I AWAKE? I don't think I have class today, right? Great! I must've just turned my alarm on accidentally. I'll turn it off and go back to bed. Zzz...OH! We're going to Haifa!

7:15 "Elisa, someone is here!" "WHAT?" I walk out, bed head hair sticking out in all different directions. "Why are you here so early? I still have 15 minutes! Go away!"

7:30 I speed out of my room after downing a cup of hot tea and we head to catch a bus.

7:45 We pass a ton of security guards standing around looking worried. An ambulance is on its way. We look concerned, then get on the bus.

8:00 One of my guy friend's grabs my face cause he knows that it annoys me. I proceed to lick him. The Hasidic man sitting next to us looks incredibly disturbed. Then moves.

Thanksgiving in a Foreign Land

"Can we plan Thanksgiving? Can we? Please? Canwecanwecanwe???" Muttered responses, noncommittal smiles were all I received. No one seemed to be as concerned or as interested in recreating this strange but lovely American tradition. Or maybe they knew it would be CRAZY. And Thanksgiving was fast approaching! In the mail, I received some terribly punny Thanksgiving stickers from my Mumsy, to be used on Thanksgiving placemats. It was a sign! We had to have Thanksgiving! 

So, when invited over to do homework, I ambushed my friends. "Who should we invite to Thanksgiving?" This was the worst part of planning, the part I was dreading. When we had named all of the people who we normally hang out with, the list numbered 15. Then we had to pick from the list of 17 "maybes". Boy, did I feel like a Queen Bee. We argued and debated about who garnered an invite and why. At 1:00AM I left the apartment with a list of 26 people, with 6 starred as "probably won't come". 

The venue: 4 friends' apartment. The menu: traditional Thanksgiving food. My task: to invite everyone, assign them all a food to bring and figure out how to fit so many people in an apartment.

Trip Number 3: Eilat and Petra (Jordan)

Short bus ride. Long bus ride. Chug chug chugging along. Chug chug chug...what? No more chugging along? SPUTTER. Dead bus.
Our bus died about 30 minutes into the journey. We were stranded on the side of the road in a desert-y area while the driver mopped his forehead and peered at the engine. Three Bedouin women with black face veils, shimmery black tops, baseball caps and Adidas sweatpants/sneakers rode by on donkeys and waved. "We'll get there faster if we take those," my neighbor said cynically. Another bus came to the rescue and we were on our way.
At the midway point of our five hour drive, the driver hopped back in to start the bus. He tried. And tried. And looked like he was about to cry. We were laughing hysterically at this point, sure that we would have to wait for another bus to come and rescue us. Finally, the driver, his face red with the effort, got the bus to start and we were on our way.

Eilat with a view of Petra

We drove through the desert, which never stops astonishing me with its incredible vastness. Mounds and mounds of yellow sand as far as the eye can see, sprinkled with rock but otherwise completely desolate. Such a different world than the over-developed one that I am so used to.
We reached Eilat, one of the southern-most cities in Israel. Now, I was invited on this trip and agreed to go because, well, why not. I really had no idea what Eilat was like or why Petra was exciting. Until I spent a few minutes reading up on both in the last half hour of our bus ride. Eilat is mainly a tourist town. It's attractions are its beach, where there are beautiful coral reefs (hence much scuba diving) and....well, yeah, that's pretty much it.

Trip Number 2: Ein Gedi, Masada and the Dead Sea

You know those moving staircases in Hogwarts Castle? That is sometimes what I feel like life is like in Israel. I do not have to decide or plan out trips I want to take, I just shove stuff in a backpack and GO!
Which is how I came to be found in my kitchen at 12:30AM, cooking all the food I had, trying to pack enough for 2 people to survive for 2 days without buying food. Potato/ginger/curry, green beans and garlic, onions/red peppers/lots of salt, tons of rice, 3 cucumbers, figs, all ready to go. At 2:30AM I went to bed.

8:45AM and I am ready to go, sleeping bag and mat borrowed, as little packed as possible as my bag is mostly full of food. On my way, in a group of 12 people to Ein Gedi, the Dead Sea and Masada. The plan is to hike in the Ein Gedi nature reserve the first day, camp overnight, hike Masada and float in the Dead Sea.









Hike we did, once we finally found the nature reserve.











The desert is BEAUTIFUL. Very dry (obviously, but it needed to be said) and so vast.

 We were hiking next to a tiny little spring that blossomed into waterfalls at various points of the hike. There were many families out, kids splashing around in the cool water. Really makes you think about the value of water. This little bit of green was so precious in the dusty landscape. I was also constantly aware of how much water I had at my disposal, as it was sloshing around heavily on my back.







Up and up and up. If you were to slip, you would slide down forever on grayish reddish rocks. The higher we went, the more amazing the view was.









We could see most of the Dead Sea and so many dunes/cliffs spread below. Barely any green, mainly yellow, and so quiet. Across from us rose more mountains of a similar style: Jordan.

We ended up camping right next to the Dead Sea. I decided not to partake in the evening swim in the Dead Sea as I was already there on Birthright. I also have been deeply scarred by middle school camping trips where I was always freezing, so I was trying my hardest to contain my warmth. This became a bit ridiculous when I had put 4 layers of clothes on and it was still about 75 degrees outside. Amazingly, it remained warm the entire night!!!! We sat around, ate junk food (because there ARE stores, albeit overpriced ones), talked, stared at the millions of stars.

On the edge of one of the Jordanian mountains, I spotted an orange glow. What could it be? The sun rising (it was about 7PM)? A bomb (wow, so negative)? No, is it? Could it really be? It is! It's the moon! As orange as the sun, it rose so quickly. The pitch black that we had experienced for about an hour was gone, as the world around us was light with the dusky white light of the moon. I watched it rise, entranced by its movement. Around me the air was warm and filled with sounds of singing (as huge family groups celebrated Sukkot with a DJ singing Israeli/Jewish songs) and the laughter of my fellows travelers as they talked and tried to dance along to the music (very difficult, as the announcer sang about 35 seconds of each song than got bored and switched). I found myself engaged in many interesting, deep conversations, than floated peacefully in my own thoughts for a while.



Eventually, it was time for bed. A friend and I spread out our sleeping bag and blanket, which we were sharing, and lay down. Above us, the sky was still alive, full of mystical clouds and stars and the moon. That beautiful Lady Moon. I felt myself more in touch with the mystical, spiritual, pagan, witchcraft part of my beliefs. After all, we are all made of stars. So I slept. Next to two friends, a wash of stars above, tons of rocks below, and us, so small, at peace, there, in that moment.
I woke to the hot pink of the sunrise. The entire campsite was waking up with the sun. The Dead Sea was sparkling tantalizingly as the sky moved from pink to peach to orange to yellow to blue. And we were off again.





Up Masada we went on the Snake Path. I have climbed Masada before, but I guess we took the easy route. My body was tired and the steps grew increasingly steep. Not to mention that it was the middle of the day and the sun was beating down on us ruthlessly! Increased my respect for ancestors who lived in the desert. Made me a bit bitter about the people whizzing over my head in the 67NIS cable car to the top.














































With many stops to admire the view (read: catch our breath), we made it to the top of the mountain and began to explore Masada, one of the oldest Roman ruin sites.












Masada was the Winter Palace of the Roman King Herod in the 3-4 centures BCE.













Later, along with the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, Jews holed themselves up in Masada, trying to stave of the siege of the Romans. They held out for a surprisingly long time, but eventually realized the Romans would capture them and make them slaves. Thus, there was a mass suicide, as the Jews would rather die than be made slaves.

Today, Masada remains an very important symbol for Israel. We witnessed a young boy being Bar Mitzvahed and were told that soldiers swear their oath of service on Masada.






We wandered in the three palaces on top of Masada, descended into a huge water cistern, marveled at the beautiful mosaics on the ground of the Western Palace. We continued to be awed by the amazing view, shouted and listened to the echo of our voices as they bounced among the mountains, were astonished at the fact that a palace on top of a mountain had so many baths and ritual cleansing spaces.

It sure was hot! We made our way back down, hopped on a sherut and made it back to Israel by about three. Covered in dust, coming home to little or no food in my pantry, sleep deprived, I realized how lucky I am to be able to travel like this. I can experience so much and end up back in a familiar place. I get to sleep in my bed, cook, take a shower and then go out and do it all again. Why can't all traveling be like this?!

Elisa's Travel Tip: Do not travel in a group of 12 people. It is too many. To fully experience a place and the people, traveling with up to 2 people seems like the best idea. Unless the group you are with is comfortable splitting up. 

Elisa's Travel Tip: Travel with people you know you like. Because when you get tired and cranky, you will hate even the people you like. If the people you are with get on your nerves normally, it will be more difficult!

Trip Number 1: Trip to Tel Aviv

You might ask yourself, as I often do, whether or not I ever attend school. At the moment, it doesn't really feel like I do! I had a week off for Rosh Hashana break (went to Tel Aviv and the Mt. of Olives), had about a week and a half of school and now I have 2 weeks off for Sukkot break. This is fabulous (although made that small amount of in-school time very difficult to focus on!).
I, as a poor college student without a job and in another country, decided that I would try to stay in my apartment for most of the break. I would take a few day trips, but would try to sleep in my own bed and eat food that I had cooked. That was how break started...
Day 1: Woke up. Made a big brunch. Went back to bed. Woke up. Made a huge dinner.
Day 2: Woke up. Went to Meah Sharim, a Hasidic neighborhood, to observe preparations for Sukkot. Most people had departed to different corners of Israel at this point and I realized that I was VERY antsy. I wanted to go somewhere to!!!!!!!







Day 3: At 9:00AM, I find myself zooming perilously down the highway to Tel Aviv.







We arrive and start looking for a hostel. The first place we went to was...well, scary to say the least. In fact, I'm not sure it was hostel. There was just a lonnngggg dark hallway with ominous looking doorways and a lot of trash on the ground. We hustled out of there as fast as we could. The next place we went to looked a little bit less sketchy. A friend jumped to pull the bell, which was placed at about 7 feet in the air, and we were buzzed up.

Full of young people. "Chill"
is a good word. Made me feel like
I was back at school!!

"Heeyyyyy, you all must be the people from Costa Rica," a man who was obviously very hungover said while high-fiving us. "No," we responded. "We just want a room." We were offered a bed on the roof for 60 shekels (a bit less than $20). We agreed.

"What a strange place," I kept saying. The chic, young
and artsy mixed with what were basically shanty-towns.

No one was out, as it was the first day of Sukkot. 

Off we went to the beach, snacking on pita and hummus that one of our savvy traveler friends had packed in his bag. The Mediterranean was soooo blue and sooo beautiful. Everyone was out, as it was the first day of Sukkot and most of the shops were closed. People were barbecuing and flying kites and swimming: it was LOVELY. My friends were actually given a huge amount of BBQ as we were walking along by a very kind family. Good feeling was all around! 










We found a spot on the beach and jumped into the water. Only to find that this section of the beach was much less clean than the last one we were at. We were surrounded by floaty things that ranged from plastic bags, seaweed and discarded hats to other objects which were less easily identifiable. It had been a long day (HAHA) and a nap was in order.

A friend and I stretched out, him to read and me to sleep, although I quickly fell asleep, while our other two friends continued to frolic in the waves. They then began to build an epic sandcastle while simultaneously digging two very deep holes that they could stand in, making it look like they had lost their legs. When I woke up to this sight, I was very confused, haha.

Jaffa port at sundown. 

After three hours on the beach, we decided to search for food. We headed in the direction of Old Jaffa. When I came here for Birthright in January, Jaffa was my favorite place in Israel. It was the place I claimed I wanted to live if I ever settled in Israel. I wasn't sure why then and I have no idea now, but Jaffa is still my favorite place in Israel. It is beautiful and homey feeling.

Sigh. No words. 

Kiortush and a cappuccino.

We found a store called "Kiortush" and sat down for a coffee. The people at the neighboring table ordered this amazing pastry-thing and we decided that it was a necessary part of our experience to order one as well. We ordered a kiortush with halva (sweet sesame seed paste) in between the layers of the dough, caramel and toasted almonds on the outside. It. Was. Amazing.






Our destiny was Dr. Shakshuka. Shakshuka is basically two sunny-side up eggs in spicy tomato sauce. Lucky for me, unless specified, it is ALWAYS vegetarian. We were told this was the best shakshuka ever, so we decided to wander around Jaffa until it was time to eat.


We found the port and caught the end of the sunset. It was so beautiful, it took my breath away.

The view of Tel Aviv from the Jaffa Port area. 

So many families, of all different colors and sizes, were out, wandering around. There was beautiful art on the walls (some may call it graffiti, but I don't. This seems to exist all over Tel Aviv. There is a plethora of purple eggplants, bandaids, the word "sperm," different monster-like creatures and very inspirational, matter-of-fact statements sprayed onto the sides of so many buildings). We took picture after picture, reveling in being tourists, until we finally found our way back to Dr. Shakshuka. And ate and ate and ate.




Afterwards, what else could we do but eat some more? So we went to get frozen yogurt/gelato (I'm not sure what it was, as it was claimed to have both). The flavors ranged from the basic (chocolate, vanilla) to the unique (Werther's candy, nutella, ferro roche). I got Snickers and caramel.
Had we eaten enough? Yes. We wandered around for a bit. Entire streets were taken up by candle-lit tables at little restaurants. It was so gorgeous and, well, romantic. Eventually, we ventured back to our hostel, to change and rest, with plans of going out in the evening. We ended up just sitting around, looking at the stars and talking. I ordered my first beer, drank 1/8th of it and gave it away. I really don't like beer. Slowly, we got sleepier and sleepier, till we were tucked on our respect sofas/hammocks.
A midnight revelation: I was, for the first time, celebrating Sukkot. Sukkot was the first real Jewish holiday I celebrated with my family. It is a very pagan celebration of the harvest. You construct a temporary building (with various requirements, of course. One is that you must be able to see the stars) and put decorations of fall fruits around it. And here I was, with a see-through tarp over my head and the moon right above me. Beautiful.
I woke up to a blue, blue sky. We decided we needed another kiortush before we left. The man who was working yesterday was tickled to see us. "This is the best thing you ate here, yes?" YES, I told him.

We then wandered around the area, where there were tons of antiques and various other items being sold in the street. I bought a pair of very flowy, genie-like pants which are in very vogue here. I then bargained (kind of) for a bunch of bangles. Check one on my bucket list: bargain! It was fun. We Americans are so reserved: it is hard to bargain!!!! But, the shop owner obviously was having a blast, enjoying our discomfort. "It is Shabbat, I just want to go home. You want for 200NIS? No, 350NIS. Here, you take. I just want to go home!" was his running monologue as my friend tried to buy a large tapestry (amusingly, we had just watched him fill in the pattern on another tapestry with a cheap felt tip pen). When we left, he smiled at us and shook our hands, wishing us happy holidays. He then pinched my cheek and told me I was so beautiful in a very grandfatherly way.
It was then time to split up. A friend and I were going to a dance performance (The Project) at the Tel Aviv Opera House, while our other friends were planning on wandering around.
After the performance, we grabbed huge slices of pizza (we hadn't eaten anything for hours! GASP!). Hopped on a bus and were headed home to Tel Aviv. We actually knew how to get back this time and our way around Tel Aviv! We still walked around a ton, but it was all in good fun. Got off the bus, very groggy, bargained down a taxi driver and ended up back in my apartment. Great adventure.  Bring on the next one!

Turns out I live in the shuk + some meal math

Turns out I live in the shuk. Whenever I have free time, I seem to be in the shuk. Tonight we went to the shuk to party. My life revolves around the shuk. 

French Hill, where I live. 

 Some meal math: 

The shuk!  

Dinner begins with 1. 

1 conversation about food and moves 2 quickly to 3 people in the kitchen. 

4 dinner tonight we have 5 pots on the 4 burner stove and 6 people who are actually in the kitchen. 

7 people are sitting around, drinking wine and eating appetizers, they can’t wait till they have 8. 

9 extra dishes are needed and 10 extra utensils. 

Want some cheap cereal? Just be sure to check the expiration date.
Sometimes it expires in a month. Sometimes it expired
3 months ago! 

With 11 people, I begin to worry that there isn’t enough food and we are up to 6 dishes on the table, a number that is still increasing. 

12 was the first big dinner, but now it seems we have skipped to 15, 17, 20 people.

The birds love this store. They had just flown away when
I took this picture.

 5 people sitting on the floor, 9 people on chairs and couches, 8 dishes. 

6 people have wandered in randomly and are invited to stay.

Spices and spices and spices galore. 

 4 people clean up, 2 dishes are set out for dessert, 3 hours have passed since we begun. 

One of the few women who works at the shuk. 

Everyone is full, everyone is smiling, everyone is talking or just being. 

1 dinner = Me + a roommate, or maybe 2 + 4 people from another apartment + 2 people who live below us + 3 people who live above us + 1 person who lives next to us + some random people who seem to have a sixth sense and only ever show up when we are cooking food + 1 person from my class + a roommate’s friend = a normal amount of people for dinner any given night of the week.

On the menu this week?

Yesterday: Scallion pancakes, sweet and sour soup, rice noodles, sweet rice balls with a peanut sauce, tapioca pudding, bruschetta and pita, guacamole and chips, mashed potatoes with garlic and cheese, white rice, stir-fried broccoli, white wine, red wine, plum wine, cookie dough/cookies

Tonight: improvised curry made with left over coconut milk and so many veggies, scallion pancakes, left over rice, tapioca pudding, no-bake peach crumble, Israeli salad, leftover chili, leftover squash, potatoes and olive dish, broccoli and bean sprout dish.

Tomorrow for brunch: yogurt, fruit, pancakes, French toast (with nutella?), a frittata

My mantras: There can never be enough people. There can never be enough food. No, you don’t have to bring anything! (Just do the dishes later…) Stone soup (everyone contributes something at some point and we get to eat a wider variety of things and more things). Dynamics are important: if someone doesn't fit in well with the 12 or so normal people, well, that's all, bye-bye!

Nuts and dried fruit

I thrive in this setting, with so many people stopping in and eating and the chaos and the way that, in the end, everything always works out, and everyone is always so much happier after a good meal and good, leisurely time with friends. This is how life should be, yes? 

OF COURSE YES! 

Canddddyyyyyyyy

Don't know how I managed to miss taking a picture of the pastry stores.
Next time. Muhahahahaha.