Days 0 and 1: Flights, Tel Aviv, Yafo

The day before our flight to Tel Aviv, I flew out to Newark. Said the standard goodbyes, and of course, Teddy came in the car to say goodbye too. The flight and airport experience were rather uneventful, but I did get to see the very cool parallel reality experience panel at DTW, which, when you scan your boarding pass, will show you and only you your personal flight information on the big screen where all the departure information used to be shown. It tells you your gate, how far and in what direction it is, and boarding and departure times.

Once I landed, I had to get myself to my hotel. I was staying in the Courtyard by Mariott Newark Airport. I knew that there was one other kid from our trip in our hotel, this guy named Solomon. He was coming in from the Indy airport, and our flights landed at similar times. Once I landed, we were communicating about how to get over to the hotel. Once I found where the shuttles were, I went up to a shuttle that said Courtyard by Mariott. Must have been the one, no? Well, I was told that this was the wrong one and we had to wait, and that I should stand by a guy over there who’s going to the same place. I thanked the driver, and went to stand next to that guy. When I look down, I see the name tag Solomon on his bag, and I immediately say hi. We talk until we get to the hotel, at which point we both relaxed for a little bit. We then grabbed dinner together—I got a BBQ chicken pizza, and he got a burger with fries. We talk in the hotel lobby for hours about the trip and what we’re excited for, and part way through, some other guy overheard the word Tel Aviv, and asks us if we’re on Birthright. Turns out he was going too, but in a different age group. We talked until about 9:00, at which point, we all turned in for the night.

I could tell at this point that Solomon and I would become good friends. We had a lot to bond about: music, this trip, and a kind of goofy excitement that we both shared. And that sense was right. By the end, the two of us, deemed by some the dynamic duo, and by others the destructive duo, would be nearly inseparable.

The next morning, I met Solomon in the hotel lobby for breakfast. I ordered a sandwich, but the lady had issues with the computer, and it didn’t come before our 8:30 shuttle. I suppose I’ll still have to find out whether I ever paid for that or not. We all met as a group at 9:00 at the El Al check-in area. Turns out there were even more Birthright groups going at the same time as us, as we saw just an endless crowd of different groups getting to know each other, getting checked in, and receiving information about their next ten days. There, I saw my first menorah, or the proper way to call it, a chanukiah. It was huge, standing next to the El Al check-in desk. It got us excited to leave a country where Christmas culture dominates the month of December, and excited to be in a place where we’d see chanukiot on cars, in roundabouts, and in restaurants. In a country that knows and celebrates our traditions and our history, and in a country where, for once, we’d feel like the majority, despite being tourists. My initial impression of the group was more or less correct: there were a decent amount of really cool, really nice kids who I looked forward to getting to know better, and there was a group of, well, to put it nicely, kids that I didn’t super want to be friends with, whose social skills were a little more varied.

The line for check-in at El Al was an interesting experience in its own. First, a Chassid came through the line with tefillin and a card that said “traveler’s prayer” on it. At first, I was reluctant to do the tefillin, but I eventually did it and felt a bit of a sense of joy out of it. I did make it a point from then on that, if I was approached to do tefillin, I would certainly do it. I eventually even searched it out as well. But now thatI’m home, I will just go back to the “when approached say yes” strategy. The traveler’s prayer became a bit of a joke. Once at the front of the line, we were called by an El Al agent who questioned us individually about security. That being said, this was about the strangest security I have ever heard of: we were asked questions about who our rabbi was, whether we had a bar mitzvah, whether we know any Arabs, if we were instructed to bring anything home with us, etc. They almost took one of my friends Max away for G-d knows what reason, and apparently, they threatened to do an “internal body search” of another member of our group, but in the end, everyone made it through. We waited a few hours for the plane, at which point we had a lunch and talked some more.

On the flight, I got the wonderful privilege and luck of having an exit row. I was in the aisle, in a row of three Birthright kids, and the one next to me was on our trip. The leg room was amazing, but it came with a downside: when it came time to pray, all the Chassids came up simultaneously to the bulkhead and began to daven. That means that they came up to where my legs were so wonderfully stretched out and started to kick me. I never fell asleep after that. I decided to then watch Pitch Perfect (which was much funnier now that I’ve been to college), and then Breakfast Club. I really enjoyed Breakfast Club. I found it, of course, a little cliché, but either way heartwarming and thought-provoking. But this isn’t a movie review, rather a trip summary, so I’ll move on.

We landed, got through border control, and met up for the first time with our tour guide Omer. Omer is a total legend. She’s funny, very knowledgeable about geology—which was especially helpful in the Negev and Jerusalem—and has little quirks that made the trip especially enjoyable. For example, when it was time to get off the bus, she’d go up to the microphone and go “eeeeehhhhh! Yalla! We are going to go down the bus now, make sure you have…” That “eeeeehhhhh” was especially loud, and she said it very often. Like at the start of every thought often. It was our “um” equivalent, but longer and louder. My friends and I would look at each other when she said it. Truly a classic of the trip, I’d say. Our first bus ride was to this beautiful overlook outside of Tel Aviv. We got a great view of the city, and the weather was wonderful. A small breeze, but overall perfectly comfortable. There, we met our Israelis: IDF soldiers who took ten days’ leave to be with us. First we played a small get-to-know-you game, then a special game to get to know the Israelis. We were split up into seven groups, one for each Israeli, and were told to gather as many facts as we could about our Israeli in about five minutes. Once time was up, we were told to go on the stage overlooking the sea and Tel Aviv and give our facts to the audience. We were tied for second, with 18 facts about Itai. He’s a cool guy, and has just finished his duty in the IDF, so after this trip, he is free to go back home. Likely he’ll go to college now. From there, we walked across a bridge that had each of the 12 zodiac signs on it, and we were supposed to make a wish in front of our sign. I wished for a meaningful and wonderful trip to come, which, for the most part, came true.

We got back on the bus and drove to Yafo proper. Yafo (Jaffa) is the old city of Tel Aviv. It has existed for millennia, and historically has served as the port for Jerusalem for Mediterranean sailors. We got to see that old port of Yafo, which was super cool. Of course, by this point,

almost everyone on the trip knew (and was sick of hearing about) how much I loved boats. Was I playing it up to be funny? Probably. But,I even asked the Israelis how to say “boat” in Hebrew, which is סירה (pl. סירות). Walking through the narrow, steep streets of Yafo was the exact experience I expected to have in Israel. It was truly beautiful, and I was so proud and amazed to finally be in Israel. We then stopped at a fountain, which we were told that we could fill our water bottles in. We were told the heartwarming story about this fountain, or as it is called in Arabic, sebil. (This name, sebil, means oasis or fountain, and I am curious as to if the name of Seville is related to that). Abu Nabut was the ruler of Yafo during Ottoman rule, and he decreed that, in order to maintain security and safety against the vandals outside the walls, that the gates to the city should be locked every night, not to open for any reason. One night, when Abu Nabut was out partying a little too hard, he came back late to Yafo. He was thirsty and tired, and, despite being the esteemed ruler of Yafo, was unable to convince the guards to open the gates for him. They said they heard the excuse of “I’m Abu Nabut” every night, and why should they have any reason to believe him more than anyone else? Nabut spent the night on the ground outside, and in the morning, the guards realized the mistake they had made. As reward for sticking steadfast to the law, Abu Nabut granted each guard from the previous night a large sum of gold, and for betraying the king, he had them killed. But, after his experience of the night before, he decided to have a water fountain built right outside the city walls so that nobody would ever fall asleep thirsty outside the city walls again.

From there, we got lunch. Solomon and I went with some of the Israelis to a quite good shawarma (שווארמה) place, and I got myself chicken shawarma on a pita. I began to learn how to order, learning the words for some of the food, but I wasn’t successful in learning too much by the end of the trip. Falafel and shawarma in Israel work a little like Subway in America. You order your bread—pita, lafa, or baguette usually—then your meat and, instead of cheese tahini and/or humus, then add in your vegetables on the top. The veggie mix usually consists of choices of onions, cucumber and tomato salad, pickles, pickled cabbage, some peppers, and a choice of spicy sauce. I really enjoyed this, but I was starting to wonder if I’d get sick of this after ten days (and I slightly did…) For dessert, we went to get knafe (כנאפה), which is a cheese dish, warmed with dough flakes on top. Solomon and I split it, and I enjoyed it a decent amount. I never got it again, and I wouldn’t seek it back out, but if offered, I’d certainly have some.

We ended lunch at the bell tower of Yafo, which was supposedly built because a watchmaker nearby was sick of people coming into his store asking him the time. There was also a Christmas tree nearby—one of the few reminders of the holiday cheer going back on at home. From there, we toured Tel Aviv proper. We got to see what our group would come to find as the “center” of Tel Aviv—right where the Shuk Carmel is. The tour that we took was called the “Rainbow Tour,” which was basically a gay history of Tel Aviv. Apparently, the city is 25% gay. I found the tour ultimately interesting, and I did certainly appreciate a small chance to get to walk around Tel Aviv for the first time and learn about something so integral to the city’s history and development. What did anger me though was that there was one kid, Michael, who walked away from the tour and into an Adidas store looking to buy shoes. Michael ended up being a problem on the trip, and he certainly took away from the experience at times.

We then drove up to the north. It took us forever to get out of Tel Aviv because of the traffic, but it was so cool to see what the villages strewn about the countryside of Israel look like. My eyes were glued to the window on the way up. On the way over there, though, we kept on seeing signs that said יחי המלך המשיח, long live the Messiah, with the picture of that Rebbi on the traveler’s prayer. Soon into the trip, this Rebbi became a bit of a joke of ours, and I kept that traveler’s prayer in my back pocket. Turns out someone else had the exact same idea, and when we discovered that some time in Jerusalem, everybody found it funny.

We got down the bus at Kibutz Haon, a Kibutz whose primary industry is tourism, right on the Kineret (כנרת, Sea of Galilee). After getting a bit of time to relax, we lit the chanukiot and had dinner. During this relaxing time, Solomon and I, along with a few other people, wandered over to the pier on the Kineret. The lights from Tiberias were shimmering, and the view was just stunningly beautiful. I stayed back when the whole group left and listened to the end of Mahler’s 8th. It fit the moment. Solomon stayed back with me and accompanied me as we went over to dinner. The dinner was completely mediocre, and the meat that I got in the stew they served felt like it was entirely fat. We quickly had a meeting to establish some rules and then went to bed.