The Last Days are Always the Best Days

I don't know whether to think that that's true because you appreciate them more or maybe it's supposed to be a nice send off but what it ends up being is torture.  The only part of traveling I'm horrible at is saying goodbye.  While this time I'm not in Heathrow crying because there are too many wazungu around me, it's still pretty hard and has only been made harder by the fantastic last five days that I have had.

DAY 1 (Sunday... aka the beginning of the end): So I bought the ticket Saturday night and the cheapest flight I could get left Friday at 05h25.  Which meant that I was not going to waste another day in Netanya.  Honestly, I wasn't a huge fan.  It wasn't necessarily the farms fault.  It was just a really crowded area but I was still completely isolated from everything.  There was no community to speak of.  So I just ended up getting really really lonely which probably made it a lot easier to book a flight home.  Anyways, I had recently been whining to Tal (whose base is in Haifa) about how everything was going wrong and even though I had tried a couple of times, I had yet to actually make it up to Haifa to complain in person.  So that became my first stop.

I think the first night I ended up spending a total of 20 minutes in my hostel.  I checked in, dropped my things and ran to the beach.  Until it was too dark to see and then went to the German Colony to see the Bahai Gardens at night.  See my photos below for reference.  Suffice to say it was gorgeous and incredibly relaxing.  In between wandering about and eating really mediocre fast food (my only real complaint about Haifa is that all of the restaurants close by like 18h00), I was in touch with Tal who said that he could get off base after work that evening until 7h30.

So at 23h00 theres not much left to do but hit bars and wander about the city right?  Well partly.  First we went to a bar where the bartender publicly outed what a lightweight I am by making me refuse a shot.  So that was good for a solid half hour of entertainment for everyone who wasn't me.  But then when that bar closed, it seemed like there was nothing left to do but call it a night.  Except that Tal and I are creative and decided that a late night train trip to Hof HaCarmel to hang out at the beach sounded like a splendid idea.

At 7h00 I got back to my hostel and had to explain to them that I hadn't slept that night because I had decided sober to sleep on the beach and therefore would be too tired to check out by 11h00 ... and would therefore just have to stay another night.  Which leads to ...

DAY 2 (Monday aka denial day): In which I slept until noon and then spent a solid 8 hours lazing in the sun listening to music, denying reality, and being hit on by creepy men.  The lounging was interrupted only be frequent dips in the ocean.  Not much more to say except that there was also a distinct lack of food on denial day.

 DAY 3 (Tuesday aka my triumphant return to the Arava):  And of course also easily identified as Slavik day.  I made my way to Be'er Sheva with only a few misunderstanding that required police to sort out and arrived by early afternoon.  To be met by Slavik! Who is out of the IDF! Freedom!  And he used that ample freedom to help me while away a few great hours in Be'er Sheva.

First order of business: Felafel.  Because at that point I was starving from two days of nonexistant Haifa food.

Second order of business: spending several hours trying to tie flies onto leashes.  Unfortunately, my hair is no longer long enough to use as a leash so we ended up using a thread with mixed results.  Plus, Slavik taught me his time tested and hard earned foolproof fly killing technique.  I suppose compulsory military service really is good for something!  I hear they get lots of free t shirts in the army too so I suppose there's also that.  But anyways.

Third order of business: going bowling.  Because what else is there to do in Be'er Sheva? Luckily I'm a bowling pro.  But really I'm awful.  The only times I did fairly well was when Slavik and I figured out how to send two balls down the lane in one turn.  The fourth order of business was going to be air hockey but my performance was so lackluster as to not really be worth going into detail.  But I suppose that happened.

After parting with Slavik at the bus depot (and nearly getting backed over by a semi truck due to the ridiculous construction traffic near the bus/train stations), I made it to Ir Ovot without a hitch (pun intended).  Slowly beginning to recognize familiar wadis and mountains as they passed my bus window made it feel like coming home.  This was a feeling that was compounded when I walked into Ruth's house to be greeted by girls running at me from every direction to give me a hug.

If laughing at my bad Hebrew with Ruth's sisters and playing jungle speed wasn't enough, it was also the first night the pub at the dairy was open.  I never knew there were that many young people in the area!  I mean, a lot of them were just passing through but still!  It was amazing to be sitting out under the stars on a cool night with loads of interesting people.  Heavenly.

DAY 4 (Wednesday aka nostalgia day):  This was like living all of the best memories from the Arava over again on a loop.  I played rummikub and jungle speed with the family and had time to journal.  I spent the night in my hammock on their porch and woke up for the gorgeous sunrises.  I planned out how to meet up with Ruth in Colorado.  At sunset, Avigajil and Orijah and I literally ran up Ari's mountain chasing the sunset.  You can see how worth it that mad dash was below.  Jehonathan even dropped by to loan me his laptop so I could steal a bunch of Israeli music before I left.  It was horribly sad at the end of the day as one by one Ruth's family members slowly drifted to bed, hugging me and saying goodbye as they did.

DAY 5 (Thursday aka the last hurrah):  Ruth had to go to Be'er Sheva in the morning and so we both caught a ride with her neighbor.  As I was explaining my quandry to them both (they wouldn't let me into the Kotel with my huge bag... let alone my leatherman) it was suggested that I just go to the airport, check in for my flight, check my bags, and then go to Jerusalem.  It was so crazy it just might have worked except that it didn't.  Instead, I discovered yet another reason to love Ben Gurion Airport (other than the orchard outside and free wifi)... they have a baggage storage center.  You can leave your bags there any time until 20h00 (at which point security picks them up and you get in really big trouble).  But at this point it was 11h30 and it would take at least 1.5 hours by bus to get to Jerusalem (darn transfers and expensive sheruts).

The bust nearly broke down/ there was nearly a riot when the air conditioning went out on a 38-40 C day but somehow we made it to Jerusalem central bus station.  Foolishly thinking it would be fun, I walked all the way to the old city and wasn't even rewarded with one of those divine cream puff things from the market because he wasn't making them today.  Sad.

Anyways, a funny thing happened on the way to the Kotel.  But really.  I got lost (which is difficult enough because the old city is really tiny and pretty much every road from Jaffa gate leads to the Kotel).  But the funny thing was that when I stopped to ask for directions I was chatted up by these nut vendors (like hot caramel almonds... stop that).  They invited me to stay for free nuts (stop it...) but I said I was really just in Jerusalem to go to the Kotel one last time.  And then I was on my way.

Not so funny you say? Well the real funny thing was that I got lost again on the way back and ended up at their second location.  One of the guys from the first stand had moved to the new one and called "Hey pretty lady" which I automatically respond to of course.... since that's what everyone pretty much calls me.  He then asked if I had made it to the Kotel and the rest of the conversation went as follows (oh yeah... his name turned out to be Ben)

Ben: did you make it to the Kotel?
Me:  Yes... eventually
Ben: Well did you pray?
Me: What else do you think I was doing there for the past hour or two?
Ben: Well did you leave a note in the wall with a prayer?
Me: Uh yeah... of course.
Ben: Do you think if I went to the Kotel right now and prayed really hard I would come back with a note with your number on it?  [gotta give the guy points, right?]
Me:  hahahaha you might but my Israeli number will only work for the next 5 hours or so... I'm leaving the country kind of unexpectedly.
Ben: well then we have to hurry [grabs my hand and starts pulling me towards the Kotel]
Me: haha joking aside, I really should be heading back to the bus station
Ben: Well surely you could spare a half hour to drink a glass of wine with me
Me:  maybe the time but probably not the money...

And then he bought a bottle of wine and we sat around the old city drinking wine and eating caramel almonds.  Because that happens to normal people on normal days.  A quick stop to grab a colossal avocado and some bread and I was headed back to the airport and that's where I am now...

...practically in tears at the prospect of leaving thanks to the best last five days ever.

Until next time, Israel.

In Which Wangari Maathai Continues to Mentor Me

I must have read her autobiography about 53948752 times and at least three times on this trip but I finally left it (purposefully) in my last volunteer cabin.  I left the chapter bookmarked in which she is being personally attacked by the government and has been jailed and her husband has left her.  Why?  Well because she describes this period of her life as a series of humiliating situations where just as she started to sort things out they would get messed up again.  She just couldn't get her feet under her and re-commit herself to her cause and so she retreated.  For a short time, she stepped back into what she described in an interview I read once (that I can't locate now so maybe I'm just making it up) as the embrace of her family and friends.

So I didn't get into the program I wanted.  Peace Corps is still deferred (at least in regards to agriculture in Sub Saharan Africa).  I am out of money.  Getting a visa has proven unbelievably difficult since I don't magically travel with my birth certificate and a letter from a Rabbi.  The job I had would have only been an interim thing and isn't enough.  Generally, every plan I've made has fallen apart.  Which doesn't mean I need to give up.  But it does mean I need to go home.  Regroup.  Get my feet back under me.

The reason I keep going back to Wangari Maathai in my head is because I know I've told a few of you but I got really really lonely in Netanya.  Not homesick.  Just.  Well I realized that there were very few (at the time I thought none) people on the same continent as me who knew me well enough to even hug me.  And I missed hugs more than anything in the world.  Just basic human contact.  When I told everyone that I felt like a bit of a failure and a mess having to come home in a rush and having "wasted" so much time and money, not a single person even addressed my consternation.  In fact, they were completely oblivious to my angst.  Instead of telling me I wasn't failing or a mess the overwhelming majority of people just squealed something about being excited to see me soon and how I was welcome with them for a few weeks.

Talk about an embrace.  I don't think I'm prouder of any accomplishment in my life more than my friends.  I figure that if I can get such impressive people to be excited to see me then I must have actually accomplished something or succeeded at least a bit.

So now I'm in Ben Gurion Airport.  I get back to New York City at 8:40 pm EST.  I just spent the best four days of my entire trip wandering around Israel (which will be recounted in an upcoming post).  I have a trip planned that takes me approximately 3.5 weeks to a month to get back to Sacramento.  It includes a newly added detour to Colorado to see my friend Ruth from the Arava. She is traveling to the U.S. for the first time and since she and her family pretty much adopted me for a couple of months, it's the very littlest thing I can do to make sure she gets settled in the U.S.

So coming soon to a town near you....

Field Work is the Same in Any Country

That is to say.... field workers are the same in every country.  Sorry for all of the radio silence but I'm still outside of Netanya working on a farm here.  While I have loads to tell y'all about my life, what I really want to talk about is workers.

I get CNN here, unfortunately, and if I have to hear another talk about immigration I'm going to scream.  It wasn't a big piece on immigration, just a little interest story dropped in and I heard the quote you always here on immigration.  Essentially, send undocumented workers back.  Americans need those jobs and the economy can function without them they're a drain on resources blah blah blah blah blah.

In Israel, all farm workers are Thai.  Same shit, different pile.

My coworkers work eleven hours a day in 120 degree heat.  I work eight.  Granted, I don't get paid... but this is the off season.  In the fall, it's more like thirteen hours a day.  They don't take Shabbat off so they work seven days a week.  My coworkers took the Queen's Day off a couple days ago (a Thai holiday) and Anun told me that it was his 5th day off since he started two years ago.  If you work from sun up to sun down for five years (a fairly average stint of time to work in Israel before going back to Thailand), when do you do anything else?  The answer is, you don't.

In Idan, many of the Thai workers had drinking problems.  They went through cases of beer a day.  You can't save up much money that way but what would you do if you had that schedule and were thousands of miles away from your home and family? But if you're not saving up much money and you're reliant on your job for staying in the country and the conditions are subpar and you're working most of the day... what does that sound like?

I can't stand it. Anywhere you go, it's the same.  Some cultural group working the fields and everyone pretending like this exploitation is okay.  That it's not a problem.  Everywhere I go, I ask people who works in the fields and without pause there's an answer... the Poles, the North Africans, the Thais, the Mexicans.

So here's my response to the idiots on CNN.  No.  Americans do not need those jobs.  Because if they did, they would already have those jobs.  I can tell you the exact number of Americans with bachelors degrees or higher from their home country who applied to pick fruit for minimum wage in California or hand clear a field in Israel or Germany or Spain this year.    It's zero.  The number with even a high school diploma is similarly low.  I even loathe field work most days and anyone who knows me knows that I love crap like working in fields.  I definitely would not work under the conditions here or anywhere that migrant workers work under.

Without exploiting these people, we wouldn't have food on our plates.  So maybe instead of shouting about how we should take away more of these peoples rights we should at least start with a "Thank You".

Putting Down Roots (ish) For a Little While

There’s a fine line between calculated risk and utter insanity but this lies on the rational side by a hair’s breadth – or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. 

I called El Al to reschedule my flight from Israel to New York from this Tuesday to the very last possible extension date (September 4).  The last extension was $50 so I figured this would be a cheap safety net.  By September I would know if I had officially gotten into University at Sde Boqer to start in October and would be able to leave if I hadn’t for some reason.  If I did get in, I would have a job lined up from the last week of August to school starting in late October.  However, the flight back would cost me $250 to change and that is on top of the flight cost from NYC to Sacramento.  A $400 minimum insurance policy wasn’t what I was all about. 

So the choice came down to leaving Tuesday or canceling my flight altogether and rolling the dice on admission to BGU.  I just am not ready to leave.  Not because I want to spend the rest of my life here but because it’s just not the right time to go.  I can feel it in my bones.

So I’ve officially moved to Israel, I guess.  Come what may.  Anyone want to come visit and bring the rest of my stuff?

P.S. Madre, Padre, and Brodre… I tried to call and tell you this in person but your phones went straight to voicemail so…. Surprise!  I’ll call y’all when you get back to Sacramento.  

Massive Photo Update

Photo update spanning from the tail end of my (hopefully) first stay in the Arava through my two weeks in Germany/Czech Republic

The view looking at the gorgeous rock formations near the top of the "scorpion trail" between Idan and Be'er Sheva

View of the scorpion trail from near the top... there was a straighter, simpler path but it was so much less fun

How to fit 11 people "into" a car on my birthday.  Yes, there is video footage from/of me sitting on the hood of a moving vehicle (don't worry, parents, the car wasn't moving that fast... I'm sure that makes you feel better)

I call it "Keki's Arima Shrine" ... isn't it glorious?

On the road again.... the beginning of a ridiculous day of hitching

bound for Frankfurt from Dresden we ended up... stranded in Leipzig? But luckily there was this epic sunset

... and a rainbow.  You cant see the second one!

The wonderful dutchies we picked up who invited us to stay at a friend of a friends in Leipzig

hitching friends are wonderful friends

Keki might not have been 100% comfortable sitting on the roof 7 ish stories up... go figure

All of the random hitchers crashing in the flat 

I took this one.  Tell me it's not going to be the cover of their debut techno-folk album...

Keki mysteriously appearing (or rather, disappearing) through the roof hatch

On the road going so many places

This is what the world thinks of America.  This was the sign for the "American diner" we stumbled across... go us.

Bro showing me around the forest in Frankfurt! :)

I wouldnt be me if I didnt take a picture of the cool bark

Or the itty bitty size of your thumb nail frog

Yes, it's a giant woodpecker.  No, I can't say that with a straight face.

The direct quote from the city council after this was built was "well... we had a long weekend after the office holiday party and well... why not?"

Prague was spectacular.  That is all.

Made it to Prague!  In two hitches from Frankfurt!

Our CS host.

It's an old toilet.  Think about that.

I loved Prague

A lot... and of course I went to the Jewish quarter in Prague... who do you think I am?

Still my favorite from the spontaneous market where we bought matching rings and necklaces

Dream team does hitching.

We tried everything. 

It was a long miserable day as you can tell from my expression.

After waiting five hours in the rain at the wrong highway and then walking several km through the mud, rain, and spiney plants.

Our original hope of getting a single hitch all the way to Dresden....

... turned into begging for a ride to the next gas station in Czech.

which worked since this is a picture of Keki (and I) squeezed into the bucket seats in a PORSCHE

Yes.  We fit four people into this PORSCHE.  Please write this down in the hitching record books. K, thanks.

Demonstrating how to fit in the bucket seats in a porsche.

The semi we hitched.  Yeah.  That happened.

Cristoph (my CS host) giving me a private tour of the Reichstag. 

Holocaust memorial in Berlin was kind of weird with all of the tourists walking on/taking pictures on top of the columns

Obligatory picture of cool Berlin Wall art

Destroyed Church memorial?  Couldnt really tell but it was cool!

My favorite part of the wall. Troof.

My one obligatory tourist picture at the Berlin Wall

I know it's "juvenile" but all I could think of when I saw this sign was LA saying "your jokes are the wuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurst"

Why yes I am opening this beer bottle with a lighter.  

My favorite part of Berlin... it's a PIRATE SHIP SLIDE.  Take that in for a moment. 

Abandoned Airport (read: park?)