Day Ten - The struggle goes on

The image of Syria’s President Bashar al-Assad appeared on the news today. A tall man he was dressed in military attire with a saber. The purpose was a dedication ceremony for a communications center in Kuneitra, the Syrian town closest to the border with Israel in the Golan Heights. An announcement was made at the time that Syria was once again threatening to take the Golan back from Israel by force. Prior to his political career as President starting in 2001 the son of the former President of Syria Hafez al-Assad was best known for introducing the internet to Syria. It was hoped that he would usher in a new level of freedom in Syria which really never happened.

The press conference cited the Druze living under Israeli rule in the Golan as the reason for reclaiming the area for Syria. The truth of the matter is the Druze in the Golan are fairly independent of both Israel and Syria. They enjoy the benefits of living in the Democratic State of Israel but are separated by the border from family who still live in Syria. They know their life in Israel is far better than their Syrian counterparts but are not becoming Israeli citizens for fear of Syrian reprisals and the are not sure what country will ultimately be in charge.

Next story: The Heredim (Ultra Orthodox) are rioting in Jerusalem because a Parking Structure in the Old City will be open on Shabbat. A demonstrator is hurt when he fell off a fence he was climbing. A short stocky policewoman is pushing a heavy set man dressed in 18th century black clothes and hat. Two blond twins with kippas and curls maybe 7 or 8 years old are throwing rocks.

As Nick and I tour the Nimrod Fortress in the Golan and the Banias Nature Reserve the conflict continues. Battles have raged for 3000 years. The land is won and lost. Civilizations thrive and decline. Kings build great walls to protect what they have but time takes them down.

Banias Falls. This is an important tributary to the Knerret that provides fresh water for the entire area

While walking the Banias Nature Reserve barbwire fence warns and seperates park goers from land mines

Nimrod Fortress. Note the rocks above. Visitors are warned to stir clear of collapsing walls.

This spiral stair goes down two flights in the Southwest tower. It is pitch black and Nick and I encountered bats at the bottom

We hiked to the top of the Fortress Donjon or Keep high up over looking all of the Golan.

Day Nine - Finding the Hermon Field School

From the Sea of Galilee we headed north up Highway 90 to the most Northern part of Israel and to one of the areas of world controversy captured and retained in the 1967 War – the Golan Heights. Greater care appears to have been taken in planning the development of this area and the natural beauty of the mountains and valleys have been enhanced with wineries and Moshavs interspersed along the highway. An interesting mountain cut was made into undulating vegetated terraces one on top of another on either side of the roadway. A communication tower has cut out human shapes climbing the structure. Always a reminder of things past and present a bombed bus or truck will appear and are left in place as real danger still exists.

The area is less likely to be visited by tourists and consequently English signs begin to disappear unlike most of the rest of the country. We were headed to a Field School to spend the night near Mt. Hermon (or Khermon depending on the map). We called ahead to make sure they knew we were coming and got some quick instructions about turning right about 12 kilometers after Kiryat Shemona. It would have been helpful if they said turn right onto Highway 99 from 90 but the Hebrew/English communication left us with a simple turn right where the sign was. It does not take long to go too far in Israel and we found ourselves on the Lebanese border town of Metula having missed the turnoff. We called again. “You have gone too far!” the reception said. “Turn around and come back to the shopping center and turn left.” After several more missed directions we finally made it onto the correct road to Mt. Hermon.

After about 20 kilometers we came to “the sign” saying Hermon Field School and we turned up the mountain road and proceeded to pass Hebrew signs on our way to the end of the road and the gate to a Kibbutz. Entering the Kibbutz, a large cattle ranch, we drove around looking at the Hebrew signs hoping we could suddenly recall the meaning of words never learned by sounding out our elementary pronunciations of the Hebrew letters. Farm animals stared amusingly at us as we searched for human contact or signs of any kind in English or Hebrew we could understand. We found a group of soldiers and one knew a little English but had no idea what the Hermon Field School was. We found the grocery and the cashier also had no idea what we were talking about. She directed me to an office with a phone at the door and a phone number posted. I dialed the number and no one answered and I hung up. The phone rang and I picked it up. “You need to go back down the hill and turn left at the sign” the voice on the other end of the line said. Someone must have been keeping track of us. We finally made it to the gate of the Hermon Field School. Security gates are very common in Israel and the large metal gate opened and we drove in to find an expansive vista of the valley below and a setting of small bungalows. “The manager” greeted us and warmly wrapped his arm around my shoulders and said “you finally made it.”

Hermon Field School

Day Seven and Eight - Ein Gev

Generally very good roads the highway system in Israel can go from a speedy two or three lane racetrack to a round-about slowing traffic down to a standstill or worse, two or three lanes for many kilometers and then suddenly a stoplight. The round-abouts seem to really confuse everyone and is like two people getting into a revolving door at the same time taking baby steps until reemergence.

Armed with our maps and GPS we once again hit the road cutting off the streamline 79 onto a more pedestrian 754 through the of Moshav of Kafr Kana and then onto another main artery to Tiberias, (the main city on Lake Knerret) Highway 77. The 754 twists and turns through Jewish and Arab sections and Nick and I constantly were asking ourselves if we were still on it.
City planning is not exactly been the hallmark of Israeli Moshevs. Things are where they are because that’s where someone wanted it. The dust of the dry Mediterranean climate attaches itself to everything and mixing this with grim of auto exhaust casts a dark shadow on buildings generally made of concrete, concrete block or more traditional stone.

Kafr Kana seems typical of a lot of Moshevs with a confluence of Jewish, Arabic and Western signs and people. Make no mistake about it this is the Middle East.

With only one slight wrong turn off the highway in Tiberias we arrived at the Sea of Galilee surrounded by tall rolling hills. Winding our way down the streets of Tiberas shopping and resort atmosphere we turned south on Highway 90 and then north on 92 to our destination of the east side of the Lake in a Kibbutz operated resort called Ein Gev.

With scorching 100 degree plus days we rested here for two days taking advantage of the spectacular setting.

Ein Gev sunset on Lake Knerret. Fireworks and disco carried across the lake from Tiberias on the western shore

Day Six - Zappori National Park

The Zippori National Park is an active Archeological site. It seems that Israel takes great care in excavating and preserving the rich and varied history of the area and Zippori is one of the best sites we have seen on our travels. There is always a gate and a fee to get into the Parks and this one was well worth it. To get to the Park we retraced our route back out of the Zappori Moshav (village) toward Highway 79. The road to the Park is a left hand turn just before reaching the highway and can easily be missed. As we have so far learned the hard way once you get to general destination finding specific directions can be an adventure.

What makes this site particularly interesting is its strategic significance to the area as a Jewish, Roman, Christian and Arab city. The story of this city is one of struggle with the Romans first taking the city from the Jews in the 1st century BCE, the Jews taking it back and then losing it again. It was returned to Jewish control in the War of Independence in 1948.

Zappori National Park

Active Archeological Dig

Trying to avoid the bus loads of tourists to this site we took a shortcut. Compliment from Nick "You look like a tourist but once you start talking you don't seem like one at all"

The Fortress built during the Crusades

From the top of the Fortress the view of the western Galilee can be seen

Day Five - Zappori Village

On Sunday we rented a car in Jerusalem and drove north to the Lake Knerret (Sea of Galilee) region with the help of a GPS Carol loaned to us and a half a dozen books and maps. Driving in Israel can be an adventure but with only one wrong turn so far fairly uneventful. Highway signs are in Hebrew, Arabic and English. There is an interesting variety of English transliteration for the same place that can be a bit confusing or amusing depending on your circumstances. We had several routes we could take to get to our first destination Zappori Village which is also called Zapori, Tzapporri, Sappori and Sheppori depending on the map, sign or mood of the transliterater. The route we chose was going Highway 1 which turns into Highway 2 through Tel Aviv. We could have chose a toll road Highway 6 but the car rental company charges 50 Shekels. Apparantly you drive through an electronic toll gate and it matches your license plate up with your registration and you recieve a bill. I am told that the rest of Israeli drivers pay 17 Shekels. A Shekel by the way is currently worth about 25 cents.

We arrived in the afternoon and checked into our little stone cottage for the night built in 1949 and renovated by Mitch and his wife Suzy owners of the Zappori Village B&B, a collection of small rentals set on a farm where Mitch and Suzy produce a variety of foods from olives and olive oil to honey and jams and wine. After settling in we took a walk to the local grocery for an ice cream. A short path led us through the hills surrounding Mitch’s place where we encountered an old columbarium and views of the monastery and a sheep farm. Zappori is located near the city of Nazareth and is near a significant archaeological dig of an ancient Jewish city. The sleepy rural town has several B&B’s that seem to cater to visitors of the Ruins nearby. It has a boutique food industry and next door to the B&B is the Ellis Dairy Farm with a sign out front that actually reads “Diary Farm.” While in Tzur Haddassah I found a tasty goat yogurt drink that I had every morning. Luck would have it that yogurt I liked so much was from the Ellis Dairy.

After a short nap, Nick and I made our way over to the Dairy for dinner which Mitch called ahead for reservations. After being escorted by Mitch’s dogs down the street we were handed off to 5 dogs at the Ellis gate and they escorted us to a small modular structure where we were invited to take a table “any table, but not that one” as we were just about to sit down.
Yoav Ellis moved with his family from Texas 24 years ago and grew upon the farm where they not only make the yogurt products but also an assortment of goat and sheep cheeses. He said it would take awhile to prepare dinner as it was just him making and serving and we told him we had all the time in the world. It was worth it. Yoav started us out with homemade lemonade for Nick and a local beer for me. Our appetizer was a crunchy potato skin with melted goat cheese and a sprinkle of chives. This being a Dairy restaurant no meat was served. I got the assortment of Ellis made cheeses with a garlic foccacia toast, local olives and Greek salad. Nick had a goat cheese pizza.

It was a terrific meal and afterwards Yoav sat with us and we talked. He said the economy had affected a business he had of distributing the family cheeses to Israeli delis. In two weeks he was heading for Alaska to seek work. Next morning I told Mitch and he thoughtfully looked at me and said “I’ll have a talk with him.”

Entrance sign to Zappori Village


Breakfast of local yogurt, bread, honey, jam and cheese

Cottage #5

Israel is at once beautiful and overtly pragmatic

Day Four - Our hosts Carol & Jake

Carol and Jake have been our extraordinary hosts in Israel and on Saturday we had a BBQ at their house in Tsur Hadassah a village outside of Jerusalem. Jake's children Eitan, Yael andAvivit along with their families came. Eitan and his wife Ofira have 3 girls, Yuval (birthday girl), Gefen and Adi. Yael and her husband Yaron have a girl, Yarden and boy Shalev. It was also Yaron's birthday. Avivit (Vik) and her husband Hagai who we will be visiting in Haifa later this week. Also at the BBQ was long time friends of Carol and Jake, Neil, Tikva and their daughter Shira.

Eitan and Adi


Shalev & Carol

Gefen, Yarden, Yuval (birthday girl)

Avivit (Vik) and Yael

Jake & Eitan

Day Three Part Three

Nick and Carol from the Promenade which is a spectacular view of the Old City

The view from the Promenade

King David's Tower at the Old City

Food stand in the Old City with fresh bread and corn on the cob and kid playing video games.

Third Day Part 2

The Arab Bizarre in the Old City. Nick and I got lost here trying to find Brads apartment. Got directions from a merchant who we were compelled to by something from

Nick at the Cardo which is the excavation of the old Roman Market now a shopping area in the Jewish Quarter

An Israeli patrol in the Cardo

Plaza near Brad's house. This plaza is close to the Kotel and and the Cardo.

A Jerusalem cat, one of many.

Third Day in Jerusalem

Street where Brad lives Shonei Holechot in the Jewish Quarter.

The Plaza at the Kotel (Western Wall)

The Kotel woman's section

The Kotel

The Tunnel Road from where we are staying at Carols in Tsur Hadassah goes through the West Bank. The wall shown separtes the Palestinian area from Israel.

June 18, 2009

The Dome housing the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum where the Dead Sea Scrolls are kept.

The Israel Museum is under a major reconstruction. Only the Shrine of the Book and the Model of Jerusalem in the 2nd Temple Period are currently open to the public.

The scaled model of the Basilica

Construction of the new light rail system

Chagall windows at Hadassah Hospital

First Day Photos

Sculptor Aharon Bezalel - Ein Kerem

Nick, Neil & Carol

at Yad Vashem

Western Wall from Brad's Roof

Scott, Brad & Nick

Midnight Travels

When dreams are moments away from reality, Midnight, is the time when the day ends and begins at once. It is at this time that I start my travels with the experience of yesterday and the optimism of tomorrow. It is a place where fiction and fact come together and are inseparable.

Walking down the first ramp and immediately standing at the entry to Yad Vashem in Jerusalem (The Authority for the Remembrance of the Martyrs and Heroes of the Holocaust) a film plays on a loop. It is in black and white and at first I was not sure what reality I was watching. Are these animations or live action? The ramp is tilted downward gently moving you in toward the film that is playing on a concrete wall framed in a tall triangle. The sensation is something at once enticing and dangerous. The narrowing of the screen at the top limits your view of what is beyond watching. There are images of children innocently waving with a hand curling inward inviting you in. There are windows in buildings with people some famous in their daily lives. There is a group dancing the hora.
I am struck at once about the purpose of architecture and function. This is a place where the two are one.

The sights and sounds of today, the first real day of our journey for 7 weeks from Israel to Greece and then Italy begin at this point in time and place, just after a recent visit to Yad Vashem by the Pope, during the re-election uprising in Iran and in the midst Japanese tourists wearing kippas in deference to those who perished, I saw Israeli soldiers and police today who left their guns at the door and they too were touring with us through Yad Vashem. If ever there was a place to train those whose job it is to protect and defend I cannot think of a more important lesson then the one right here.

World at War

In Hunter’s room with the lights down low the screen appears brighter, a beacon in the blackness surrounding him. Empty wrappers of candy, cookies and chips are fluttering under the whirring fans of computer drives. Plastic soda bottles are strewn around the room also empty. Betty thinks it’s a metaphor for the vacuum left in young minds drained as the result of this hypnotic attraction. A world she explains to Marge so insidious that kids lose all control of realty for days on end. How will she get her son back? The image burns in her mind of her sweet teen aged son Hunter pimply faced and lost under the glaring light and mayhem of World Of Warcraft or WOW.

Marge looks around, her eyes roll and she moves closer to Betty. The gardeners are cutting the lawn and the leaf blowers send a plume of dust and leaves swirling through the yard. The sound is unbearably loud. Its epidemic she yells!
I pull into the drive with Molly in the passenger seat holding a box with three new chicks in it. Betty and Marge catch my eye and I give a little wave with my hand. Both have their arms crossed below their chests. Molly and I get out of the car. Hello I say but realize nothing could be heard over the roar of gardening equipment. Molly walks across the street and holds the chicks out for Marge and Betty to see and suddenly without warning the gardeners are done and Marge and Betty look at Molly and then the chicks as if life has lifted them off their feet.

Marge wears a baseball cap with a pony tail that comes out of the vent in back. She also drives a Suburban which is now parked out in front of her house. 10 year old James is the oldest of her three kids. James had got in a lot of trouble for stealing my iPod out of my car not long ago and he doesn’t speak to me anymore. He’s sitting in the Suburban with his two younger twin brothers, Michael and Matthew. I have to take James to soccer practice Marge says. A petite woman Marge climbs into the Suburban and behind the wheel her head barely appears over the dash. There seems to be some significance to driving a huge SUV giving “overprotective mom” new meaning in this town. It is no doubt part of some secret cult like the Masons for suburban moms where pony tails, baseball caps and SUV’s are standard fare. Throwing it in reverse, Marge backs up nearly missing the “Green Bin” for yard waste and Jake the brown mutt down the street chases after her as she turns the corner. I notice Betty’s cat Gus on the fence licking his chops and staring at us and I whisk Molly back to the house with the three chicks.

It’s 2 AM and I can’t sleep again. There’s nothing in particular I worry about but it’s this general malaise about life these days. I turn on the TV and turn it off. I go to the computer and play some solitaire. I surf the net. I pick up the huge volume of John Adams that I have been working on for 6 months, read a couple of pages and then lose interest. What purpose have I served in this life?
And then I see it. It’s a flashlight stroking the blackness outside. Oh shit it’s a burglar. What do I do? Maybe it’s not. Where’s the baseball bat? If I turn the outside lights on maybe it’ll scare him away. Blingo, got him. Lights up.

What the hell Hunter what are you doing out there at 2 AM!!

Mom sent me out looking for Gus. He got out somehow and mom’s worried about him running off.

Well you scared the hell out of me. I thought you were a burglar.

Sorry about that.

I’ll let you know if I see him. Goodnight

Goodnight.

I go into the living room to check on the chicks that are in their box under a warm lamp. They are all there and chirping away. It’s ok. You’re safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you. The world’s a pretty scary place for you guys.

Chickens and Beasts

The raccoon got three more chickens last night. It is the apparent practice of these creatures to bite the heads off and leave the carcass. So says the resident expert on these matters, the 10 year old neighbor James. My own theory is the carcass is too heavy for the getaway since “Mustard” was found headless near the fence and “Betsy” close by, partially alive with head dangling to the side and “Henrietta” the little one completely gone. Feathers were everywhere, evidence of a heroic struggle.

Could it be that these purveyors of night raids, these waddling black eyed menaces are the devise of all things bad in the world? James is knowledgeable. The raccoon thrives among human habitation and it is the advance of housing tracks and loss of nature’s forests that has led to the murder of our three chickens and the mastery of the night by this criminal element of the four legged kingdom.

It was less than a month ago that I left my car unlocked and some raccoon of the human variety stole my iPod. They took my bottle of Advil too. I hope he had a bad headache and my musical taste gives him a worse one. James offered the consolation that they left the car. I am thankful of this fact, but I suspect that James knows more than he is revealing. Perhaps he understands the origins of the criminal mind as some grander reality working with Mother Nature to return us all to the wild.

I collect the eggs from the nest and wonder if there was some rule about eating the last laid eggs of dead chickens. It’s bad luck or bad taste or not Kosher. James thinks its ok as long as you hard boil them. I don’t ask why. We bury poor Mustard and Betsy. James says that 50% of the raccoon population has rabies. There is no indecision on my part about burying, not eating our dear departed hens.

So how do I face my daughter Molly when she comes home tomorrow with her mom and finds Mustard, Betsy and Henrietta gone? She left them in my care and I forgot to put them away in the chicken coup last night. James offers to tell Molly. They are such good friends. I stand over the grave after putting stones on top to mark the spot in the backyard. Should I recite the Kaddish? Yitgadal v’yitkadash… James looks at me like I am from another world. Sh’mei raba… and I choke down a tear.

He thinks revenge is what I want. We can wait in the tree fort tonight and shoot the raccoons with my BB guns.

B’alma div’ra chirutei…

I think about my grandmother who is long gone and my mother who is also gone and how they raised chickens on the farm in Petaluma.

V’yamlich malchutei…let’s get those sons of bitches, James. You and me what do you say? Ok. Ok then. Yeah. And I wipe away another tear.

The night sky is purple then black until the full moon rises and I see the miniature bears walking the fence. Hold your fire ‘til you see the whites of their eyes, whispers James gritting his teeth and exposing the shiny metal of his braces.

What am I doing here? This is stupid. A grown man sitting in a tree fort 15 feet above the ground with a BB gun and the neighbor’s know-it-all kid waiting to blast away the entire raccoon population of Contra Costa County.

On the count of ten…nine, eight, seven, six, fivefourthreetwoone. FIRE!!!

A hail of BB’s descended not from my cock and shoot version but from James’ semi automatic. In the commotion of James rapid fire barrage a thud hit the fort. The beasts slipped over the fence and were gone. You think we got one. I don’t know. What was that noise? I don’t know. What’s that on the floor?

What the hell James it’s my iPod.