Shalom.
The one word that I can confidently say in Hebrew.... rather, the one word I thought I could confidently say in Hebrew, until I got to Israel, heard someone else say it, and realized that I sound utterly and horribly American, and that my one word I thought I had mastered, really just sounds like nails on a chalk board.
Well, friends. This is the beginning of a few blog posts about my Israel adventures.
Three flights and 19 hours landed me on holy soil.
Nashville to Chicago: I got to the airport a couple of hours early, because the airline wouldn't let me check-in ahead of time online. I ended up getting quality time on the phone with my best friend, planning details for our road trip, and I also taught one of the airport employees how to play Kendama (google it, buy it, and get addicted).
Chicago to Istanbul: Whenever I travel, and really don't know where to go, or what to do, I really have zero shame in spotlighting my lack of knowledge and asking for help. Therefore, the instant I exited the aircraft in Chicago, I found this first employee I could and found out that I needed to transfer terminals. A few minutes of speed walking, and praying that I was on the right train, I wound up in the international terminal. I also realized, quickly, that I was the only person in the terminal that could not speak two languages. But, let me take a second to boast about Turkish Airlines! The seats were ridiculously comfortable (Though, no matter how comfortable the seats are... I will never be able to sleep well sitting up.) and they didn't charge you for alcohol. Kid you not. A few glasses of wine after taking off, and I was a happy camper, amigos. The only downfall to the flight was the fact that it was 11 hours long, and that I was sitting in the center aisle, in the center of the row. I had an older Turkish man to my left, who gave me wine suggestions, and was absolutely baffled that I was flying to Israel by myself, just because I wanted to. Then I had to African men to my right... A father and son. I didn't talk much to them, because they were both fast a sleep within 20 minutes of taking off, but when they were awake, I was salivating at the beauty of their accents.
Istanbul to Tel Aviv: I have never been more reliant on prayer and faith in my life, than I was navigating that airport. By the grace of God I managed to make it to my gate, and wound up sitting in between a very religious Jewish man on my left, and two gay guys - who just adopted a little girl - on my right. It was perfect. In every way. And let me tell you, I am not a baby person at all, but that little girl (sighs), was absolutely divine, besides the fact that she pooped three times on an hour and 45 minute flight. BUT every time she pooped, her dads put a new outfit on her, and each outfit got supremely cuter after each shit. After exiting the plane, I had to make my way through baggage claim (Which I didn't have to use, because I somehow managed to fit two weeks worth of belongings into two carry-ons *bows*!) and to customs. I never in my life had wished more that I was Israeli. The 5 lines for foreign passports took 10x longer to get through than the two lines for Israeli passports. When it was finally my turn to present my little book of identification, I realized how little I actually knew about my trip, and with whom I was staying.
Official: What is the reason for your trip?
Me: Visiting family.
Official: Where do they live?
Me: I think Tel Aviv, but it may be somewhere outside of Tel Aviv?
Official: Their names?
Me: Michal S...., but you know, she just got divorced so I don't know if that is actually still her last name...
Official: How are you related to her?
Me: That is a great question, that I can't actually pin point, but basically she is my grandmother's sister's daughter, so whatever that makes me to her, is what I am (Laughs).
Official: (Blank stare) (Stamps passport) Bye.
My grandmother's sister picked me up from the airport, with her husband. Praise Jesus they recognized me, because at that point I had lost all hope that I knew anything about anything. The moment we got into the car, Rachel (My grandmother's sister) said she had a present for me, a very special present. She then handed me a packaged sanitary wipe. I was a little bit perplexed, and thought, "This can't really just be a wipe..." I analyzed that package a little more, and realized that at the bottom it said "Ein Gev". I remembered that my grandmother was born in Ein Gev, which I proclaimed to Rachel and Jacob. Rachel then said that the little girl on the package, was my grandmother! Apparently, Rachel had gone to visit Ein Gev a few years ago, and sat down at a restaurant to eat, looked down at the table, and saw that a picture of her sister, my grandmother, was plastered on the table covering. She said that she exclaimed to the whole restaurant, "That is my sister!!!" To this day, my grandmother's picture is the face of this business! The family is going to take me there sometime next week to eat and visit, and share more of our history with me. During this car ride to Michal's, I also learned that my great grandmother let Germany during the war, and pedal biked to France, England, and eventually Israel - working little jobs for food and shelter. When she arrived to Israel, she met great grandfather in Ein Gev, where he was a fisherman, and they started a family. She absolutely loved education, and though she couldn't go to college, she wanted to see if she was smart enough to at least pass the exams. She took Oxford's entry exams, and passed easily. That was enough for her, and she then focused her energy on being the best mother and wife she could be.
I got to Michal's house around 9:45 or 10:00 pm and stayed up talking with herself and her son Ron (who is almost 15) for a few hours. Then, ever so swiftly, I was off to dream land. I ended up sleeping until 11:00 am. I got a reality check first thing in the morning when I went to take a shower, and realized that all of the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash containers were labeled in Hebrew... A few minutes of smelling and testing later, I finally got it figured out (I think...). Michal and I went to brunch, and thereafter I explored the city by myself for a couple of hours. I ended up ordering a beer, after having a server translate the menu for me and bring me four samples, and peacefully sipping it while sitting outside and taking in the new culture I was surrounded by.
Later this evening I went to Ron's high school, which was absolutely unlike anything I have ever experienced in my entire life. The students, teachers, and parents are all considered equals - conjoined as a parliament. The students get to pick what courses they want to take, and how much freedom they think they need during the day. There are obviously required classes that must be completed by your senior year for you to graduated, and qualify you to take the examinations that allow you to apply for university. BUT, it is completely up to the students whether they want to take those courses or not. I asked Michal and Ron if they noticed students taking advantage of this system at all, and end up slacking off most of the time. Ron said that some of the students do at first, but then they grow to realized that their education is important, and that they have the opportunity to specialize it to what their interests are. Michal said that their graduation rate, and college entry percentage is equal if not better than any of the other public/private schools in the country.
The final event of the evening was grabbing a drink and sweet potato fries at an Irish Israeli Pub (I realize that sounds stupid, but come on, we have Irish American Pubs everywhere...) with Michal. I absolutely cherishing getting to know family outside of the clan I have in the U.S.A. but also getting to see the intense similarities in the relatives I have on the other side of the world, in correlation to the ones only minutes and hours away from me. Blood runs deep and far.
More to come!
My eyes are getting droopy - it's nearly 2 am here (Which means that I didn't have the energy to spell check/edit this post, sorry mom!)
No comments:
Post a Comment