5/12/12 - Saturday - Bedouin stop en route to Dead Sea

We had our last scrumptious breakfast at the Mt. Zion hotel, packed up and loaded on the bus.  Today our destination is the Dead Sea, traveling from Jerusalem (2500 ft. above sea level) into the Judean Desert, and down to the Dead Sea (1378 ft. below sea level).  Quite a plummet -- not to mention a dramatic change in landscape – from lush, green mountains to stark desert moonscape -- and to think such a transformation happens in a country about the size of New Jersey!

We drove through a checkpoint and entered the West Bank to see another side of the wall. 

The Infamous Wall

Our Bus Driver

Yael pointed out the valley of Elah where David slew Goliath – down by a lonely common Pistachio tree.  The story lines up with the geological markers so they’re pretty sure this is the place.  The Philistines from Crete were Greek and much stronger than the Israelites, plus they had this giant bully on their side, Goliath.  Their army arrived by water from Crete and marched up from the south, conquering everything in sight.  The Israelites (David’s side) occupied the mountains in the north.  The armies came together to do battle right here in this valley – half way between the mountains and the water.  From the valley, Goliath taunted the Israelite soldiers hiding in the mountains above to send someone down to fight him.  David, a very brave young lad, offered himself – which was a good political choice because if Goliath killed a little guy, the Philistines wouldn’t have such good bragging rights.  The rest is history.  David gathered five smooth stones from the river bed and the first one did the trick.  This victory set David on a whole different career path.

Yael gave us a little background on the Bedouins because this was our day to do “Bedouins.”  Sorry – it was hard to catch all the facts – but here’s what I remember:
Bedouins are a minority within a minority.  They are different in the north from the south. Southern Bedouins are Nomad and Muslim. Northern Bedouins are smaller tribes from Syria.  In 1930, the Brits built villages for the Bedouins to settle, but the Bedouins liked their own villages and their own lifestyles and didn’t mix.  It is difficult to maintain their traditions while living with other tribes.  The center of their identity is the tribe, not the Muslim religion.  In 1948 some from Israel, some from Egypt pushed up to the northern territory.  They built five big towns for Bedouins where the rivalry is strong.  Bedouins are against the established laws.  They have more than one wife and they can’t wonder around with their sheep anymore.  They steal cows, sheep and other forms of property, but stealing is not wrong unless it’s stealing from your own family.  You can imagine what kind of problem this causes for the local farmers and Israel.  Another big problem for Israel is that a Bedouin community goes from a pig pen to a hut to a villa in no time, then suddenly there are whole established villages with no deeds or services.  As if Israel doesn’t have enough issues to resolve …

We were merrily on our way, listening to Yael’s talk in our comfy bus when we came upon a roadblock which that delayed us for half an hour or so.  A couple of motorcyclists went down going around corner.  It must have been a pretty bad accident because we had to wait for a helicopter to lift them out.  My camera kept me amused documenting the comings and goings of the Israeli military as they controlled the situation.  One of our less inhibited tour members took a leak at the side of the hill.  Of course I was there to freeze the action in a photo and treat myself to a little giggle.

Waiting at the road block	We weren't abou to defy this guy
The cyclists had to wait, too	Waiting for the Medivac
The IDF is in charge	The pause that refreshes

Needless to say, we were late for our first appointment of the day at the village of Lakia located at the edge of the rugged Negev Desert.  We drove through the desert and saw the villages thrown up by the Bedouins.  Finally we turned off the main road to Lakia, passing by a mosque and continuing down the dusty roads scattered with trash. Some homes were nice (with running water and all the modern conveniences) while some homes were not so nice, constructed with corrugated tin (and more than likely, illegally tapping into the water lines).

Bedouin village	Bedouin village
Bedouin village	Bedouin village

The purpose of the OAT program was to show us A Day in the Life of an Islamic Bedouin Community.  Israel’s Bedouin tribes try to keep their culture alive while being forced by the government to relocate into officially sanctioned communities.  The nomadic life doesn’t work well in world today’s world.  It’s not an easy trick to hang onto one’s long traditions.  If the Bedouins don’t leave their ancestors’ land and move to “government recognized villages,” they have no status, no address, no opportunities.  Their Israeli IDs state only the name of their clan. They have no claim to land. Some communities have no water, electricity or roads and no education or health services.  The Negev Desert is the backyard of the State of Israel with a huge conflict brewing.

Bedouin women have it especially tough -- living as Bedouins in Israel but also as women in a male dominated patriarchal society, where 30 percent of families are polygamous.  Bedouin women are at the lowest level of employment in Israeli society where about 90 percent of Bedouin women are illiterate. If a woman has an education, she can take more control, make decisions, and be important in her community.

The bus parked and we were led to a makeshift tent leaning against a garage.  Here we met Sarah, a traditional Bedouin woman in her 70’s.  Sarah’s story is typical.  She came to the village as a kid with 13 brothers and sisters.  She was married at 15 to an older man who was selected by her parents.  (I’m assuming her father.)  She didn’t know how to read, but she knew how to work hard.  After the wedding, she was transferred to her mother-in-law’s house to continue working hard – washing, gathering wood, cooking, weaving, putting up the tent, tending to the herds, gathering water, etc.  Eventually Sarah had 13 kids.  Her daughter told us that Sarah is isolated and bored and can’t leave home because of the “rules” for Bedouin women.  She also told us that Bedouin men do nothing but get served.  Today, all the girls in Sarah’s family are educated – most of them teachers.  The boys remain totally useless.  (There’s a lesson here.)

Sarah showed us how to process the coffee beans and served us coffee and tea..  The family is Christian and has done well.  Sarah has a nice house with all the modern conveniences.  We didn’t go into the house because Sarah doesn’t like the house.  (Her children and grandchildren live in the house.)  Sarah doesn’t gravitate to concrete and closed-in rooms.  She moved out of the house shortly after it was constructed.  She was raised a Bedouin from the old world.  She prefers the tent – a life that is close to the earth.  However, she doesn’t like staying at home all day, isolated from the others.  Women once met at the well to share stories and support each other.  The well was closed down and locked after houses with water lines were constructed.  With the watering hole closed, Bedouin women were not allowed to stray from home.

Bedouin girl (Sarah's granddaughter)	Sarah's house
Sarah serving tea	Sarah and her daughter

Sarah’s daughter, Amal Elsana al-Hajooj, was the translator – Yael translated the story yet again for us.  Amal, the fifth of thirteen children, is in her early 40’s and is part of the next generation of Bedouin women.  (We learned more about Amal later.)

Our Group

Amal

They showed us their beautiful embroidery and clothing designs – a way for the women to develop a business.  Pat, Don and I volunteered to model some of the Bedouin bridal clothes – We had fun, but boy, were those outfits HOT.

Sarah's house	Pat and Don
Don and Nancy	Pat

After our tea time, we went to feed her goats (and sheep) in the backyard.  Apparently the neighbors don’t like the goats, but that doesn’t bother Sarah.  Sarah’s daughter told us about the animals and processing the wool from the sheep. 

Sarah's goats

Sarah's back yard

In an old shed out back, Sarah went to work making us special Bedouin laffa bread (pita) topped with amazing herbs and spices grown on the farm.  (I bought Lolly a jar of these magical spices hoping she’ll use them to make me a treat when we get back to San Diego.)  I loved to watch Sarah’s hands skillfully work the dough and carefully place it on a hot, flat pan – years of experience went into those graceful movements and making the bread just right!

Sarah making Laffa

Sarah making Laffa

After our “yummy bread appetizer,” we walked through the village to a large tent -- the Bedouin Women’s Association welcome tent (Yahala ) where we were served a traditional meal -- upside down chicken – very good. 

Lunch tent

Amal

It’s here where we learned more about Sarah’s daughter, Amal Elsana al-Hajooj.  From age five, Amal herded sheep before trekking a couple of miles to school—a run-down shack without electricity, running water or books. 

At age 12, Amal began her career as a community organizer.  In the mid 1980’s, a Christian group wanted the girls and women in the village to start a club at the Women’s Center.  Amal had to ask permission from her father and brothers to go to the meeting.  The first topic was birth control and several girls left.  Only four girls continued and established the group – much to the chagrin of many of the tribes folk – especially the men.  At 17, Amal established the first Arab Bedouin women's organization to preserve culture while improving literacy and women’s rights.

She told us she fell in love with a Bedouin boy from another tribe and they wanted to marry – apparently not allowed.  Her father’s answer was “No” -- so she decided not to marry at all. 

She went on to earn her BA in social work in Israel and her MA at a university in Canada.  At Ben-Gurion University she was one of two Bedouin women who started a project to improve conditions in 22 Bedouin villages. She is been a real mover and shaker dedicated to helping the Arab women in Israel.  You can’t believe how many awards she has received!

You could tell her strength under her calm demeanor (and head scarf).  She is a very powerful and brave woman and has done a lot for the women.  She now raises her sister’s children.  Her sister was recently killed in an auto accident, leaving four daughters.

Amal Elsana al-Hajooj  - Notes from the UK Task Force Study Trip (Feb., 2012) on issues related to Arab Citizens:

Al-Ha'jooj was the fifth of five girls born to an Arab Bedouin family living in the Laqiya unrecognized village. "It was a tragedy for my parents that I wasn't a boy, so they named me Amal, which means ‘hope,' in the hope of having boys. And five boys were born after me. I grew up in an atmosphere where if you are a girl you are not in the center. You will not get new clothing like your brothers, and you will not get the best piece of chicken at dinner."

When she was five, she started shepherding the family's flock and so learned the art of community organizing at a tender age. "What you do with sheep you can do with people. You can organize them and bring them to an understanding of their situation, and to [taking] greater responsibility."

Laqiya's residents "blamed the Jewish people for everything," she says. "My village was politically active and I had uncles in jail for their involvement in the PLO [Palestine Liberation Organization]. I was an extremist and didn't want to learn Hebrew in high school."

At 14, she started teaching women reading and writing, and at 17 established a Bedouin women's organization focusing on rights and political resistance. Even during her social work studies at Ben-Gurion University, al-Hajooj  did not make friends with Jewish classmates.

In Montreal to earn her master's degree at McGill University, she was on a bus and heard a little girl talking to her mother in Hebrew. "All of a sudden, the language of the ‘enemy' became the language in which I felt very safe," she relates. "I said, for the first time, ‘I'm from Israel,' and the mother and daughter took me to the place I wanted to go."

When a Jewish English tutor was recommended to her by the university, al-Hajooj phoned her father to ask what she should do. He told her that the Jewish New Year was approaching and that she should take an apple and honey to the tutor to wish her a sweet new year, "shana tova." The tutor told the story to everyone at McGill, says Alh'jooj.

"I didn't give up my Palestinian identity, but I came to understand the situation of the Jewish people. When I came back, I realized it can't be that Jewish people caring about human and social rights are only in Canada. So I set up a community advocacy center with the Jewish community in a disadvantaged neighborhood in Be’er Sheva. I was an Arab coming to help Jews, which wasn't easy for them, but it empowered me."

Thanks to the effort of Amal and other strong women leaders, the village has become a model for women and children – offering childcare, education and now a mobile library.  Amal says now all the kids have computers. 

A women’s coop that does embroidery and weaving was started to provide employment – giving fulltime work to 70 Bedouin women.  With some of the profits, women in this remote desert are able to go on field trips to places like Tel Aviv and Haifa.  Many of the women had never even seen water before.  Now that’s empowerment. 

Amal with embroidery

The hot tent and huge lunch caused several of our group to nod off.  Maybe the program went on a little too long.  We struggled up from our seats and went to the embroidery shop.  It was a little pricey – but I bought a lot because it means a lot.  I really wanted this Bedouin Barbie doll outfit for Zion, but they only had one left and wouldn’t sell it. 

(NOTE:  Support the women of Lakia and visit: www.desert-embroidery.org.)
We finished shopping, hopped back on the bus and headed down into the Judean Desert toward the Dead Sea.  The change in scenery was dramatic.  It reminded us of Anza Borrego, our neighboring desert in San Diego, where we often hike.  Our first look at the Dead Sea was surrealistic – as if we were on another planet. 

To the Dead Sea	To the Dead Sea
The Dead Sea	The Dead Sea

We skirted the Dead Sea for a few miles and then turned straight up a hill to do Masada.  A synapse fired opening the “Masada” file in my brain.  Vague images of Peter O’Toole from the 1980’s mini-series came flooding forth.  Now we were at Masada and I was ready to clean up that old file and add some new images.

Masada poster

Masada

Masada is a UNESCO World Heritage Site – with that label you know it’s going to be cool.  The Visitor’s Center / Museum was beautifully done with the perfect lighting to show off the ancient artifacts. 

Masada museum

Masada museum

Masada museum

Masada museum

Masada was an ancient fortress built into a desert plateau about 20-15 BC.  Herod, that crazy King and great builder, did it again -- engineering feats were nothing to him.  He took a flat mountain top with very steep slopes in a vast desert with not much to offer and turned it into a refuge for himself in the event of a revolt. 

As part of the plan, he built a lovely summer house for himself (one of his 20 or so).  Masada was a great refuge for Herod in times of crisis and an important place for Roman troops to conquer all of Judea. 

From the Visitor’s Center, we took 3-minute cable car ride up to the side of the cliff.  We looked down below at the hikers steadily climbing up the “Snake Path.”  

Cable car to Masada

Cable car to Masada

We climbed out of the cable car onto the 20-acre ruins of this isolated hilltop fortress and were surrounded by views of the Dead Sea and the vast desert.  We explored the area marveling at the cisterns, water systems, store rooms, walls, steam baths, the tile work, and Olympic size pools -- all nestled into 3 or 4 levels of the top slopes. 

Masada	Masada
Masada	Masada
Masada	Masada
Masada	Masada
Masada	Masada

No doubt -- Herod lived like a king here. (I guess he was a king.)  Then the years pass, budgets get tight and the place is abandoned by the Romans.  A fundamentalist group – rebels or radical wackos -- moves in and redecorates.  They chop up Herod’s opulent baths into smaller ritual ones and trash the gardens and statues.  They dig in and make a great little headquarters for themselves. 

After the fall of Jerusalem (about 70 AD), about 960 rebels (and their families) lived in this high fortress.  They were able to protect themselves against the Roman soldiers.  When the Romans tried to attack, the rebels would chuck down rocks and boulders, hot liquids, anything to keep them at bay.   Finally, after a couple of years, the frustrated Romans were able to complete a large ramp (with the help of their Jewish slaves) up to the top of Masada.

The Romans soldiers made their way up the hill and trapped the rebels.  When the Romains started burning the walls, they knew the gig wasup.  Rather than surrender and be executed, enslaved, raped (or all of the above), all but 7 of them committed suicide as a last stand – befitting any mini-series.  The rebels did it systematically, drawing lots to determine who’d kill whom in a mass suicide.  They started with their wives and children and then the last one fell on his own sword. This “Jonestown” act became a symbol of courage and unity among the Jewish people. 

But not so fast … thinking has changed.  As we sat in the heart of Masada, where the lots were once drawn, Yael gives us a different take on the story.  She said the rebels weren’t really the “freedom or death” people they were portrayed to be.  They were radicals thinking only “my way or the highway.”  Their goal was to anoint their leader as king and then grab all the power and wealth for themselves – and do it at any cost.  The rebel leader sent his nephew to Jerusalem to meet with the rabbi in power.  Instead of meeting, the nephew murders the rabbi and then gets killed, dashing hopes of helping his uncle or his sect. 

Yael said that Jewish tradition looks at history for miracles and heroes.  Today Israel needs to frame its history differently.  It doesn’t need miracles -- it needs leaders, real leaders.  Proselytizing isn’t cutting it anymore.  Our group was moved by Yael’s heartfelt words.  As the sun was setting, we rode the cable car down in that vast desert with a vast new awareness and understanding.

It was only about a 15 minute drive to our hotel – Leonardo Dead Sea.  The place seemed like a mini Las Vegas, lined with hotels glistening in the setting sun.

Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel	Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel
Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel	Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel
Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel	Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel

We were thrilled to learn that the hotels serves FREE drinks for all the guests most of the day!   We couldn’t wait to get our luggage to the room and dash down for happy HAPPY Hour.  We weren’t so thrilled when it took half an hour for our luggage to go approximately 3 floors. 

We hooked up with Don and Pat where we became happy drunks.  Pat put her vodka in a wine glass so it wouldn’t be too obvious.  (I think that’s how the story went.)

The dinner buffet was pure gluttony.  My body reacted to the mounds of food.  I only wanted carrots and tomatoes (and of course, free drinks). The hedonism has to stop.  Until then, life is good.

5/13/12 - Sunday – Mother’s Day - Dead Sea

The Dead Sea	The Dead Sea
Sunrise over The Dead Sea	Dead Sea Hotel

We came back to the hotel in time for breakfast at 7.  The Leonardo Dead Sea Hotel is nice -- but the service isn’t very good.  The staff seems annoyed with the guests.  The omelet lady chased us away for some unknown reason -- but there were plenty of other choices.

At 8:30, we loaded into air conditioned 4 X 4 jeeps for off-roading in the Judean Desert Nature Reserve.   We shared the jeep with Don and Pat and the leader of the patrol -- I believe his name was either Gilad or Shim, meaning Dawn.  I was feeling playful and called him Mad Dog – but I don’t think he liked his new name.  He was once a “Green Beret” type in the IDF (Isreal’s military), but has two kids now and has to haul us old retirees around the desert looking for adventure.  I think he is suffering from post-traumatic stress and would not let me photograph him without his sunglasses to protect his identity.  (He was very serious about this.)

Mad Dog

4 X 4's

Mad Dog didn’t want to discuss political issues.  His family had been in the country for six generations and owned a vineyard.  His eyes were piercing and his words were powerful when he said, “Nobody can take your land away -- especially if you grow something on it.”  His solution to the problem is to send the Arabs “back home” – “They have 17 countries and the Jews only have one.”  He could be a little intense at times.
This guy was a dramatic storyteller and kept us riveted as we drove up and down the desert scape.  He said he knows that there are good Arabs because a family of Arabs saved his life when he was 12.  He was stranded in the back fields of his family’s vineyards after his father’s truck broke down.  An Arab family let him spend the night.  Two of the Arab family members had to guard the house so the other Arabs in the community wouldn’t take him and kill him.  His two Arab guardian angels both ended up in the hospital for two weeks, but his father paid the hospital bill.  (He started the story saying there are good Arabs – but of course, the moral of the tale is that most Arabs are really bad and would do anything to harm a Jewish kid.)   

One of his war stories was fascinating.  He was in charge of a small group of young Israeli soldiers when he spotted a suicide bomber who was only a boy about a hundred yards away.  He carefully presented his dilemma.  He could pull the trigger, kill the boy and save the town or let the boy live and possibly detonate his bomb.  He asked us what we would do.  We all voted to kill the kid.  He said that he ordered his team of young soldiers to run and tackle the boy.  They did, and saved the day and were pronounced heroes.  In fact, they found that the bomb’s detonator was in the boy’s hand and would have been activated if the boy had been killed and released his grip on the detonator.  Luckily when he was taken down, the soldiers held his hand tightly.  The outcome for the kid wasn’t very good.  He failed at his mission and his parents wouldn’t take him back. ( I’m not sure I believe this tale.)

When all the jeeps pulled up to a site, it was Mad Dog who gave the presentations.  He was excellent at pointing out the geology, the history, salt formations, cloud formations, anything about the place.  Our first stop was Mount Sodom, the highest peak in the lowest valley   (750 feet above the Dead Sea and 550 feet below sea level).  He said jokingly, “If a hill is 600 feet high in Israel, it’s called a mountain. And if a stream is 6 feet wide, it’s called a river.”

Mount Sodom was made up of almost pure salt. The value of salt was equal to gold back in the days when there was not such a thing as refrigeration.  In fact, the word “Salary” is derived from the word “salt.” 

We had fun zooming around in jeeps through the deep sand.  We stopped at an overlook with the vast desert and Dead Sea in view.  The wind blew Pat’s hat away to add some drama. 

Judean Desert	Judean Desert
Bill	Judean Desert
Judean Desert	Judean Desert

This place is covered with salt pillars.  Centuries of weathering caused cliffs to separate, leaving large rock formations. One of the formations was named “Lot’s wife” of Sodom and Gomorrah fame.  These were a couple of really bad assed towns.  Lot tried to talk God into saving them -- but the towns were just too bad (as Rich said, “Kind of like our current Republican Party.”)  Lot was a rather twisted man as well so I don’t see why it was his job to reform the town.  He offered his virgin daughters up for the pleasure of his guests.  He was just showing some hospitality.  Later Lot drank too much, had sex with his daughters and they both had sons by him (as a lesson from God.)  One was named Moab.  Of course we know Lot’s wife looked back at the fire and brimstone destruction of the cities and God turned her into a pillar of Salt.  These are really creepy stories.

It was very hot and we were glad we got a look inside the entrance of the longest natural salt cave (4 miles long) with tunnels and caverns below Mount Sodom.  The temperature was considerable cooler inside.  I understand the British soldiers on duty in the area lunched, and probably napped, in here.

Cave Entrance

Cave Entrance

Our last stop was at an oasis where we had a picnic.  We frightened a couple of Ibex and watched them scurry up the hill. (Yael’s name means Ibex.) It was good to see a little vegetation for a change.  There was a beautiful Acacia tree (a little different from the Acacia trees in African).  Mad Dog pointed out a salt plant that grows here and tasted salty.  The cool thing about these trees in adapting to desert life is they may hold the secret to “green” renewable energy -- through a type of photosynthesis storing sunlight to make plant food at night.

Ibex	Acacia tree

We made our own pita sandwiches with a lovely selection of cold cuts, humus and veggies.  I liked the lunch and I liked that little spot tucked away in the desert.  We learned that this was where large caravans came through.  The caravans had a couple  thousand camels and lots of people.  The local guys made a killing on the caravan business – charging big taxes and filling up the camels with water.  Each would drink about 45 gallons of water in an hour and then could go 45 days without water.  I was surprised to learn that Camels can’t climb steps.  They can sit on hot desert ground and urinate out the back to cool down the place.

We drove along the Dead Sea back to the hotel.  For 42 miles, the Dead Sea divides Israel from Jordan.  You could easily see Jordan across the 11-mile wide Dead Sea.  In fact, there were some long strips of land crossing the Dead Sea where it looked like you could even walk to Jordan. 

Judean Desert

Dead Sea

The Dead Sea isn’t a “sea” at all – just a very large, landlocked saltwater lake with an average depth of 400 feet. Its 1,300 feet below sea level, the lowest points on earth and one of the saltiest bodies of water on earth -- 33.7% salt, 8.6 times saltier than the ocean.  The Jordan River, rain, and water flow from the mountains carry salt and minerals to the Dead Sea, from which there is no outlet. Salt and minerals are left after the water evaporates in the heat, making an environment where nothing can live (hence the name).  The southern shore of the Dead Sea is actually eroding, so water must be pumped from the north end to the south end.    

We passed by the “Dead Sea Works,” an unsightly mega-factory that looks like it’s straight out of “Soylent Green.” It employees 35,000 people and extracts piles of chemicals and minerals from the Dead Sea.  In fact, it’s one of the leading producers of potash for agricultural fertilizer (3.5 million tons a year).  It’s a booming business in that God-forsaken no-man’s land – where the heck are the 35,000 employees and their families?  

We got back to the hotel about 1 and had a free beer.  We walked down to the Dead Sea with Don and Pat.  We entered the water carefully.  The shoreline is covered in sharp, salt crystals that can cut your feet if you're not careful.  We also had to keep our eyes and mouth shut and hope that we’d didn’t have any scratches or wounds on our bodies.  All we could do was float and bob on the surface. Don is so buoyant that he had trouble even getting his feet to touch the bottom.  Such a playful place – I didn’t want to get out, but finally, the heat got the best of us.  We did a thorough rinsing because the salt was so strong, but it made our skin soft.

Dead Sea	Dead Sea
Pat	Nancy
Bill and Nancy	Pat and Don

We sauntered back to the hotel for another beer and joined some of our pals out by the beautiful pool. 

Leonardo Dead Sea

Funny little Russian people

The hotel is a strange place – maybe it’s all the free booze that distorts one’s perspective.  The staff has no heart or soul or personality – all colorless robots.  Most of the guests (except for us) are funny little Russian people on holiday.  They look more like Claymation figures than regular folks.  (Ros said the place looked like Miami in the 60’s.) The sea of buffet tables are starting to look like feeding troughs – and I suppose they are.  We had our last dinner -- plates piled high with food washed down with all the cheap wine you want pouring from a spigot.  I’m sure this stuff is killing me. 

5/14/12 - Monday – Last Day - Dead Sea to Tel Aviv

Up early to join the gluttony at the buffet table, before our bodies had even digested last night’s feast.  We loaded on the bus at 8:30 and were off. 

Loading on the Bus

Carol and Richard

The weather was much cooler with a perfect desert breeze.  We drove almost the length of the Dead Sea with views of Jordon beyond.  Yael said the Dead Sea is receding about 1 meter a year.  It’s been receding for decades because its main source, the Jordan River, has been over-exploited for irrigation purposes.  The newer hotels are building their own beaches and pumping in sea water.  Yael pointed out several places where the water used to be, but is no more.  There is no easy fix. 

Our first stop was En Gedi Nature Reserve – a lush oasis in the Judean Desert that once was on the banks on the Dead Sea.  En Gedi, meaning “Spring of the Kid,” was a thriving Jewish community for more than 1,200 years, beginning in the 7th century BC. Masada, the neighboring community, built by Herod, is only a stone’s throw away.  The Masada-ites came down from time to time to attack En Gedi for sport (and, of course, for the spoils of war).

In the 3rd century AD, En Gedi built a synagogue.  We drove by it, but didn’t stop.  Yael told us the inscription written in the tile floor served as an omen to the townsfolk.  It was a warning to never reveal the secret of the town, or the wrath of heaven will come down.  The secret involved the method of cultivating a now-extinct balsam tree.  The rare tree grew only in this region.  The tribe made perfume from its nectar and it was a hot seller.  Back then perfume was important in the community with all that sacrificing and all those smelly bodies; perfume was a must-have.  Women would make a capsule containing perfume and hide it in the heel of their sandal.  When they spotted “Mr. Right,” they would open the capsule to seduce their man.   Aside from perfume, the people made a living here with dates and the production of salt – there was an abundance of salt to harvest. 

In the Nature Reserve there are streams and springs and waterfalls with a variety of plants and fauna. Hiking trails cover the place with some leading way up to the plateau of the Judean Desert.  Yael takes us on an easy trail to the picturesque David Waterfall. (Bill and I wanted to take off over the boulders and up the steep slopes – but that’s the drawback in group travel.)  Hyraxes were everywhere like prairie dogs or mongooses or rats -- a few in the tress, but most on the ground.  The elephant is their closest relative – I learned that from the San Diego zoo.  Lucky the little guys aren’t kosher, or they’d be extinct years ago. 

En Gedi Nature Reserve	En Gedi Nature Reserve
En Gedi Nature Reserve	En Gedi Nature Reserve
En Gedi Nature Reserve	En Gedi Nature Reserve
En Gedi Nature Reserve	En Gedi Nature Reserve

We hiked across the Wadi David (stream of David).  The story goes that Saul and David, once great pals were having a paranoid falling out.  David was hiding out in the area when Saul and his soldiers come looking for him.  Saul excused himself to go into a cave and take a dump.  David and his soldiers happened to be in the same cave.  A spider web magically spun a web to hide David from Saul’s view. (Lots of miracles in these stories.) While Saul was doing his business, David carefully cut some cloth from Saul’s robe.  Talk about nimble fingers.  Later David confronted Saul with the piece of cloth.  He told Saul – I’m paraphrasing -- “See I could have easily killed you – but I’d never do that.”  Saul let down his defenses and believed David – neither of them were very trustworthy.

Yael told another story about Absalom, King David’s son, who was a real rebel and wanted to make a major alpha male statement to his father, plus take over the king-hood.  Besides killing his brother, he made love to all David’s wives (or was it concubines) on the roof in a public place for all to see.  After that mischief, he was killed.  When David heard the news, he wept and wept saying (paraphrasing again), “Absalom my son … Wish I were the one who was dying.”

We ended our hike at the gift shop where I got some creams and mud baths.
Our next stop was Qumran where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered in a cave in 1947.  The scrolls, rolled up and tucked into pottery jars, contain the oldest known surviving copies of Biblical and extra-biblical documents dating back between 150 BC and 70 AD. The records were stored in various caves throughout the desert, but about 90% of them were found in this one cave.  (We saw the actual Dead Sea Scrolls while we were in Jerusalem.)

Qumran

Qumran

An ancient Jewish sect called the Essenes wrote the records which we call the Dead Sea Scrolls.  The Essenes are also referred to as the people of the Light (versus People of the Dark).  They lived in Qumran for a few hundred years until the Romans chased them out after the Great Revolt. 

The orientation video presented a reenactment of a story that might have happened here. John the Baptist was a card carrying “Essence” for a while and then left.  Later, a fellow member in the sect heard that John the Baptist was beheaded and he asked the head guy if, indeed, it was John the Baptist.  The head guy didn’t appreciate his inquisitive mind and marked down a special punishment.  That was the end of the story.  The plot was a little light and on the silly side, but it gave you an idea of how life may have been in this all male, extremely reclusive community. 

After the video, we walked through a small, very nicely done museum with artifacts from the area.  Then we walked outside over the excavated ruins -- it was a beautiful day.  We saw ritual baths, remains of cisterns, reservoirs / aqueducts, a kiln, a pottery workshop, a kitchen, assembly hall, the scriptorium, and other amazing sites.  We also saw the cave where the scrolls were found. 

Qumran	Qumran
Qumran	Qumran
Qumran	Qumran
Qumran	Qumran

Yael told us that the people slept in tents.  However all their communal activities were in caves -- eating (eating in complete silence, that is), ritual bathing, scribing.  The community was communistic -- in fact, the Essense was the first place to try out communism.  The members gave all their money to the leaders of the sect. They weren’t even allowed to take money with them when they traveled.  (They went to Jerusalem a lot on business.)  There were so many like-minded villages around to support each other.  There were no women.  They did manage to procreate -- sex was only to procreate (its lowest form).  Must have been some place.

Of course, on the way out, we stopped at their very large gift shop.  I was overwhelmed by the junk, yet feeling pressured to buy some souvenirs to take home.
We drove to Jerusalem passing humble settlements of Bedouin farmers tucked among the hillside.  We also saw the vast agricultural areas – like groves of palm trees and vineyards.

Qumran

Qumran

We were supposed to drive through Jerusalem and on to Tel Aviv to relax at our hotel for our last night.  However, without any discussion or any vote, one member of our group hijacked the entire group, insisting that we stop to see Chagall’s’ 12 stained glass windows.  The windows were part of the Hadassa University Medical Center.  They hang in a musty old synagogue, part of a dreary old hospital within a tacky old shopping center. We were all trapped for a couple of hours in the crowded shopping center waiting for the exhibit to open.  There was nothing but crappy shops and crappy fast food.  I can’t say I was very impressed with the windows.  It cost us 20 shekels, but more importantly, it cost us a couple of hours and a relaxing lovely afternoon in Tel Aviv.

Shopping Center to see Chagall's Windows

We finally got to our hotel in Tel Aviv with no time to kill.  We quickly organized our suitcases, took a shower, did some email.  It was nice to join the group for our final Happy Hour in that funky little half-sized “Being John Malcovitz” room, stuck between the hotel lobby and the first floor of rooms.  It was here that we first met a couple of weeks ago.  Once strangers, now most of us are pals. 

Happy Hour

We boarded the bus for our farewell dinner in the lovely little Neve Tzedek (Garden of Justice) neighborhood.  We walked through the streets lined with artists’ studios, cafes, and an impressive center for Dance and Theater.  Yael selected an excellent little Italian place.  The food and wine were excellent. 

Afterwards, Yael took group photos with each of our cameras.  Then we exchanged emails and said our good-byes.  Yael loaded us into taxis to go back to the hotel.  

Our Group

We climbed into bed about 10:30 with a wake up call set for 1:20 am -- now that’s inhuman.

The call came and in those wee hours, we somehow managed to get the luggage downstairs and get into the taxi to the airport. In my “auto-pilot” state, I made it through customs, through baggage check, through stop overs in Frankfurt and Houston and through endless hours of flying on packed planes, eating whatever was placed before me … And then, at 7:15 on a beautiful evening in San Diego, we landed and found our wonderful little family.  Molly, Zi’s new puppy, remembered me and went into her peeing frenzy.  It’s so good to be home.  I thank whatever God that be for our home, our family and another grand adventure (She or He) sent our way!