Wednesday, July 8th Jerusalem to San Rafael

The remainder of our last day in Jerusalem went well; the girls finished Camp Ramah; Marci finished the Wexner week with a siyum at Beit Shmuel. We packed and packed, heading to the buses about 9 pm for the just after midnight Air Canada flight to SFO via Toronto. The first leg of the light was nearly 12 hours and, thankfully, we all slept for most of it. US Customs set up in Toronto so we cleared all that before getting to SFO. Yeah.
It's GREAT to return home after a long trip. One of the 15 phone messages was from Northwest Airlines, inquiring about why Queen Latifah and Angelina Jolie purchased tickets, on our account, to travel from Amsterdam to Ghana. At first we thought it was a joke call until I went online to pay the American Express bill and found $9,500 in charges; 4 tickets to Ghana plus charges to buy miles on Delta's plan (I think they wanted to upgrade to business class!). Not to make any sort of libel-inducing statement, neither the Queen nor Angelina ACTUALLY made the reservation; just the ploy of whomever got ahold of our credit card number to evade arrest. Good thing; the tix weren't until next week so....someone....will discover some bad news when they come to check in on the flight...
We ALL slept through the first night at home.
Until our next adventure...

Tuesday, July 7th

Quick post at 10 am.

I neatly packed all the suitcases late last night. This morning, getting the girls ready for their last day of camp....bathing suit crisis. Resolution: UNPACK... Oy. The room looks like a tornado. Time to repack.

But first,

On the way back from dropping off the girls, I stopped at the Super Pharm. The guard at the door looked at me, dressed in blue shorts, a short-sleeve light blue colored shirt, sunglasses, and a real dorky white ARZA TOURS baseball cap.

He stopped me from entering and said, "Dagan?" I replied in Hebrew, Mah? (what?). He said, "Dagan?" The only word I know in Hebrew close to Dagan is Dagana, the first kibbutz located in the Galilee. I didn't think he was asking me if I was from Kibbutz Dagana.

So, I told him "Ani lo Meveen" (I don't understand). He replied,

Da gan? Da gan? Boom. Boom?

At that moment, I realized the appropriate translation: "The gun. The gun. Boom. Boom."

I smiled, assuring him "No gun. No boom boom."

He smiled and let me in the door.

Gotta love Israel.

Off to pack... (again)...

Monday, July 6 Jerusalem

Our last full day in Jerusalem, and it was quite unexpected, as we are used to...

We woke up early and got the girls ready for Camp Ramah. I took them by taxi (meter, 31 shekels (lots of slow traffic) and walked across the street to take the #22 bus back to the center of town, to the hotel, and then to some time to write.

....and then Marci called... She's on an immersion in Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox, Torah True Judaism, take your pick) life led by Rabbi Menashe (once known as Mark) Bleiwess; whom I knew as an undergrad at Cal (Go Bears!). Marci got me special permission to join them for part of their tour of Mea She'arim, the most tradition-bound community in Jerusalem, with Menashe offering support since he also wanted a chance to reconnect after the 15 years or so its been since we've seen each other.

Presto chango. Got back to the hotel; absented the T-shirts and shorts; and faster than Mr. Rogers changes his sweater, I was long slacks, long sleeve colored shirt, kippah, and off to walk to Mea Shearim.

We were to meet at the Mir Yeshiva, otherwise known as "The Mir." Organized in 1815 in Poland, it is now, in Jerusalem, the largest yeshiva in the world with 6,000 students. Waiting outside The Mir for Marci and the Wexner group, I was usually ignored by the men walking in and out. Occasionally, some would slow down, look me over (not mistaking me for Haredi). One was kind enough to ask if I was lost...

When the Wexner group came (women together in the front; men together behind them), we were able to tour the Mir with the Rosh Yeshivah (Principal, Head of School, Superintendent, whatever). It was very high status and probably the only way about 20 western dressed men could wander through the yeshiva. The Rosh Yeshivah brought us to a huge room, PACKED with men, sitting in long rows, with lots and lots of noise as they all studied together the Talmud. They were packed in so tight it was claustrophobic. We walked through a door, into ANOTHER huge room, also PACKED with men studying. Then, up a floor, then down two floors, then onto what once was the women's balcony at their synagogue. EACH place was wall to wall Talmud study. We left the building and the Rosh Yeshivah took us to ANOTHER building. (Turns out the Yeshiva owns half a dozen buildings in the community.) This one was just as packed, in every room, and seeming crawl space. Or, as one of the guys in the Wexner group said as we got on the elevator, "What, no one studying in here?"

On a serious note, it was one heck of a fire hazard. On a more vivid one, it was described as "a factory" by one person in the group and "a sweatshop" by another. The women were able to look through one window into one room to see the place.

I did get a very brief chat with Menashe and had to leave to get the girls at camp. Apparently, and Marci will have to blog about this, he did reference our time together at Berkeley (Go Bears!) as part of his personal journey to Haredi Judaism.

I hopped in a taxi in Mea Shearim (35 shekels, off the meter, which was a GREAT price for the distance) and went to San Simon to get the girls.

We lunched at a little mini-mall around the corner from the Goldstein Youth Village, did some shopping in the local market, and then headed back for our favorite #22 bus back to the city center.

The Jerusalem Time Machine is a movie and simulator experience in Jerusalem and if you have the time to do it, I DON'T recommend it. Its really bad. So, they created a new version (shown only twice a day) on all of Israel. We saw it this afternoon. It was better than the Jerusalem Time Machine AND we still DON'T recommend you go!

Marci's cousin Donna and her parents drove in from Tel Aviv so the girls and I went for dinner with them at YMCA. Marci was at Wexner and joined us much later back at the hotel.

It's almost midnight and we're packing!

Lailah tov.

Sunday, July 5 Jerusalem

It was 10 am, the curtains drawn in the room, and the girls were still sound asleep. A quick call downstairs to learn that breakfast goes until 10:30 am. Open the drapes, time to wake up! "But you said we could sleep until we woke up." "But, I didn't think that would be 10 am"

Good call to call off Camp for the day.

After breakfast, the three of us headed to the HUC library (part of the deal of not going to camp!). Paul Lipz had given me a number of leads on books detailing American olim in the 1960s and 1970s. Within just a few minutes, I had more than a dozen titles. With the girls at their own study carrels studying (or playing video games or watching episodes of the first season of I Love Lucy on the video player), I reviewed the books; took some citations to buy the books in release, and bought up a 100 copy card to make copies of the literature that I knew I couldn't get elsewhere. In a great detective story, I

-put the word out to friends to introduce me to people who immigrated to Israel in the 1960s and 1970s

-got the contact info for Paul from Heather Erez (and I also met Paul when we taught this year at Rodef Sholom)

-met with Paul to get the citations for the HUC library

-went to the HUC library (which was not on my original study plan) to find many many more good titles

-found an autobiography published by a guy who lives in Judea (West Bank) but couldn't find a copy on the internet to purchase

-googled the guy to find his website and email

-got an email reply within hours

-called him on his cel to learn that, while I don't have time to meet him, he was JUST interviewed by a Ph.D. candidate at U. of Chicago writing a dissertation on American olim in Israel.

-he gave me her cel phone here in Jerusalem.

-I called her and we chatted about her research.

-Had Gadya. Had Gadya.

In fact, now that I've discovered two Ph.D. dissertations in progress, I will have more than enough material for one section of one chapter in my book.

From HUC, we took a walk to the Dan Panorama Hotel, where we stayed the first week, to see if they had the beloved blanket of our friend Sophie. While I did get several blankets that were left in rooms, we don't think we have Sophie's. Sorry Sophie.

Having experimented, and failed, with the strategy , "let's just walk and find a place to eat lunch," we opted instead, at 2 pm, to go to Olive and Fish, a local restaurant near our old hotel where we have eaten many times. Good choice!

We made our way back to the David Citadel and got ready for our excursion to Tel Aviv, all on public transport.

We walked up King David St. to get the #18 bus which took us across town to the rarely-used Jerusalem train station. From there, we took the excruciating long train trip to Jerusalem which was just fabulous. The train still follows the path created during the mandate period, weaving through the mountains, before arriving in Tel Aviv 90 minutes later. We also love the train and its FAR less crowded and hassled than the buses.

Our cousin Mira met us at the Tel Aviv train station and we went together to D'lal restaurant in Neve Tzedek. We met Marci there, enjoyed a great dinner, and hopped on the Wexner shuttle bus at 10 pm to get back to Jerusalem.

Lailah tov.

Saturday July 4th, Jerusalem

Shabbat shalom.

We took advantage of the day of rest to SLEEP in this morning. Marci and the girls headed to the pool (incredible; overlooking the walls of the Old City) while I was treated to a massage in the hotel spa...sort of.

Turns out, there are 2, count them one-two spas, in the same hotel. The special card offering a free 30 min. massage with any 1 hr. massage purchase was given to Marci, even though she was not aware that her reservation (er my reservation) was for the OTHER spa, in another part of the hotel. So... I spent 20 minutes shuttling back and forth, LEARNING that there were two spas, being told by each that my reservation was at the other, before I met Olga (name changed to protect the innocent). I was not in the best of moods at the beginning....and only matured to understand what a "cultural experience" this was. Let's just say that, midway through the experience (otherwise labeled "massage"), I had thoughts of the Kremlin, the Cold War, and what it must have been like to have been a high level Communist. It's just that when she pulled each arm, back, around, and pressed UP, I didn't really see (or feel) the MASSAGE part of that. Then, the instruction "BREATH OUT" (hard to understand until she repeated it for a third time), and a rather forceful blow to the lower spine (followed by similar blows to mid and upper spine). Back at home, great care is taken to preserve modesty. Enough said!

After the beating, massage, I headed up to the pool committed to get Marci a massage at the OTHER spa and plead with her to give ME the free 30 minute treatment. After some humorous descriptions of my experience, she thought it was a GREAT idea.

I spent hours with the girls at poolside. Marci had to leave for a Wexner text study. The girls and I continued studying water patterns in close proximity to the Temple Mount. They were selling watermelon poolside. What I didn't know is that they give you a 1/4 of a huge watermelon. The girls CONSUMED it in minutes. Time for lunch (at 3 pm!)

We went to the Yimka, better known as the YMCA, for lunch. It's a short walk up the hill from the hotel and they're open on shabbat (not many restaurants in Jerusalem are; except of course ALMOST every sushi restaurant!).

After lunch, we headed back to the hotel for a little more rest.

Saturday night was a free night for Wexner so Marci arranged dinner with Mara and David Langer. On Mara's recommendation, we actually found a Georgian restaurant. Couldn't find ANY southern cooking but, strangely, a whole lot of Russian speakers. David selected some typical Georgian dishes, so typical, in fact, that the server couldn't describe or define them in either English or Hebrew. Once again, she pulled out the Russian but we were....speechless. I'm just going on faith that David's description of the dessert; olives with cherry sauce, was right.

We made this our anniversary dinner and the Langers took the bill. (And we didn't make it our anniversary dinner SO THAT the Langers would take the bill.) Thanks, David and Mara.

After dinner, Marci invited all the SF Wexner folk to Rabbi Lezak (and now ours) favorite coffee house Tmol Shimshon (or something like that). She called it for 10 pm;

Rabbi sighting: Rabbi Elka Abrahamson on Ben Yehuda st. But since she's a director of Wexner and it was her night off, we didn't talk!

At 10 pm, with a table for about a dozen people, it was the 4 Dollingers... What about calling a party and no one comes... About 10:15, Marty and Vanessa Friedman came and by 10:45 we had about 20. We were really bad parents....at 11 pm, we were all still there chatting, Shayna was asleep on her forehead at the table, and we decided that it was so late, the kids were so tired, it was so exhausting...

So we took them to Babette's for some midnight chocolate waffles. Oy!

Rabbi Sighting: Rabbi Chaim Seidler Feller, once again, walking out of the King David Hotel, invited Marc to the Hartman Institute to study but, alas, daddy duty takes precedence.

By the time we got back to the hotel, we decided NO camp in the morning. They get to sleep until they wake up.

Lailah tov...or boker tov..

July 4th- Marci 's blog

Hi all,

It's Shabbat and I finally have a chance to update and send you all a message about my adventures here in Israel. It has been a busy, introspective and personal time for me here in Israel this week on the Wexner program. I am learning a lot and meeting some really interesting people. At the same time, I miss being with my family and experiencing israel with them. We see each other periodically during the day but it's strange having a separate experience from them. But I do feel blessed to have my family here with me and greeting me with big hugs and kisses when we meet. The program began Tues. evening with a magnificent cocktail reception on the balcony of the David Citadel, overlooking the Old City. Many of my classmates and their spouses had just flown in that day so I felt very lucky to have been able to jump into the program, full on, in Israel time. The David Citadel is gorgeous, very upscale. (This is not the way the Dollingers are used to traveling, but hey, when someone else is footing the bill, we'll take it!) We have a larger room, with an alcove for the girls. It's large, on Israeli standards. After the reception, we had an amazing buffet dinner. (All meals are covered and very fancy.) I can say that I am finally getting tired of eating here in Israel. I never thought that day would come. but I look forward to my bowl of cereal for breakfast when I get home! The next day we had an opening plenary about maps and creating our own personal maps of our time here. We then embarked on a round robin Navigation of Israel. We first went to the security barriers around Jerusalem (in Ramallah and near Bethlehem) to learn first hand about the geopolitics of the area. Because of security reasons, we were briefed on the bus, and not allowed off. By the way, we have a security guard with all of the groups at all times. This is a very well orchestrated trip. We had a family style meal at a great restaurant in Talpiot and then went to the Van Leer Institute for a lecture on the demography of Israel by a very prominent researcher. Can't recall his name right now. From there, we went to the City of David to explore and talk about the archaeology of the city. One of my Wexner colleagues is Tony Smorgan, the son in law of Mem Bernstein. Mem has a beautiful home in Yemin Moshe and had all of us San Franciscans over for an incredible meal. She included many of her local friends as well. Her home is filled with beautiful art and it was such a lovely evening. We celebrated Jen and Tony's 6th wedding anniversary. I walked back by way of Mamilla, an incredible upscale mall that has opened adjacent to our hotel. Not having my family to contend with, I spent the evening browsing the shops, and not buying a thing. Came back to a quiet and restful night without my family. I missed them! The next day was our Yom Gibush. I was selected as a facilitator for this program and had a group of 7 Americans and 3 Israelis to spend the day with. We were sent to Yad Vashem for lunch and conversation and then to the neighborhood of Ein Kerem for coffee. It was a very interesting day. We were also given a camera to record the day. Remember the name Gidi Grinstein. Apparently, they have him pegged for the next prime minister. He was one of the Israeli's Wexners in our group and a brilliant speaker. He is an advisor to many in the Israeli government right now. We had a dinner with them as well and then an Israeli performer sang and got us all up and dancing after the meal. It was big fun and a great evening. Shayna and I went out for a late night walk on Ben Yehuda. Of course we stopped for waffles and card shopping for Marc for our anniversary. We are headed out now for dinner so I'll finish updating later....

Friday, July 3 The Anniversary

Today is Marci and my 15th anniversary. She had Wexner all morning. I took the girls to Camp Ramah, dropped them off about 8:10 am (taxi; no meter; 30 shekels), and then decided to venture the public bus back into town. After about 30 minutes wait, I took the #22 bus to King George and did some window shopping and walking back to the Hotel.

At 10 am, I met with Paul Lipz at the YMCA for another academic interview. Paul was the scholar in residence this past year at Rodef, was a professor for our rabbis at HUC, and immigrated from what was then Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe for the geographically challenged) exactly ONE DAY before the Six Day War started. While he was not an American immigrant himself, his experience as one of that generation gave me great insights as well as a great internationalist and comparative perspective to better understand the meaning of American immigration. He's also a professor and is up on all the scholarship in this field. He started reading off books and articles and I wrote like crazy. I'll spend much of Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday at the HUC library locating and reading these selections. Thanks, Paul.

Marci came to join us after Wexner finished and we headed out to get the girls at Camp Ramah at little early. Our friends from the Rodef Trip, Nate, Judy, and Rachel Zilberg, had planned on planting a tree in Israel in memory of Rachel's twin sister who died at age 1 day. Since Rachel celebrated her Bat Mitzvah on the trip, the Zilbergs wanted to do something to remember Arielle, her twin. After a few calls to the JNF, we learned that we could plant our own trees at Yad Kennedy, the memorial to JFK. Trees cost $10/each ($5 for kids). The Zilbergs bought one; we bought one for the girls; another for our parents; and a third for our congregation (Thanks to tzedakah money from the Jaffe family). What a great and meaningful afternoon. We called the Zilbergs at 2:30 am CA time so that they could hear it. They had written up a whole ceremony which they emailed to us the night before. With video camera running, and the cel phone on "speaker," we had a tree planting ceremony and then planted the tree. Nate had sent an image of Arielle's Hebrew name which I printed and then mixed the paper into the soil so her name would literally become part of the tree; and part of new life.

It took much longer than we thought and it was already 2:30 pm before we got back to Jerusalem for lunch. Rebecca and I, especially, were in BAD food ways; especially when we had trouble finding a felafel stand in Jerusalem for some QUICK nourishment. Ah, the joys of travel.

After a few hours relaxing in the room, Marci headed off to the Kotel (western wall) for a kabbalat shabbat Wexner gathering. The girls and I headed to a non-kosher restaurant (and therefore open on erev shabbat) for our anniversary, shabbat, family, not so family dinner. Besides, after a very late lunch and a very high blood sugar number (190 after 4 hours of fasting), I opted for a small light salad. When a BOWL THE SIZE OF TEXAS arrived, filled with all sorts of things, I just declared this the un-anniversary, un-shabbat, un-family dinner, had a few bites and we were out of there is fewer than 30 minutes.

Lailah tov (Good Night)

Thursday, July 2 Tzfat to Jerusalem

We stayed last night at the Ruth Rimonim Hotel in Tzfat, where the Goldsteins (Phil, Ari, Hallie) had been staying for the last few days. We were up early in order to finish breakfast, pack up, check out, and be ready for a guided walk from the Hotel to the Ari Ashkenazi Synagogue at 7:45 am. It turns out that the synagogue for the bar mitzvah is the same one we visited a few days ago with the Rodef Sholom trip (and the rather strict South African who demanded that 9 year olds cover from wrists to ankles and that women, even if they ARE rabbis, not sing from the plaza outside). This time, though, we enjoyed a guided tour from the bar mitzvah dad, Baruch Cohen, who told us of his family's multi-generational roots in Tzfat. In fact, the Torah ark tapestry cover was created by the Cohen family and, had we taken the time to read it on our last tour, perhaps could have pulled some "hazakah" (strength, or a strong arm) on the guy a few days ago. The girls went upstairs to the balcony where they learned, among other things, that they are not REALLY into the gender divisions of Orthodox Judaism (or at least that practiced at the Ari synagogue in Tzfat). I put on a talit and t'fillin (for the second time on this trip) and was invited to "sit anywhere" on the ground floor of a tiny synagogue, with a large stair and second-story structure in the center for reading Torah. I did enjoy the decision to sit in the same seat as was occupied by our South African friend a few days before. While the prayers continued, we stood and sat; I followed along as I could though the melodies were all different. At one point, a woman came down from the balcony and walked across the men's service. Interesting... Must be some sort of exception for the family of the bar mitzvah... Alas...minutes later, she walked back holding a cup of coffee. Must be coffee service in the rear of the synagogue.. The service continued. About five minutes later, another woman entered and walked to the back. She re-appeared holding a cup of tea. Must be tea in the rear of the synagogue. The service continued. About 3 minutes later, yet another woman appeared, went to the back, and came back with a rather large roll. Must be...

Tal, the bar mitzvah, was called to the Torah; we all sang and celebrated; the kids all through candy from both the floor to the second level Torah reading spot, as well as from the balcony above.

Phil and I sat outside the synagogue after the service waiting for a tour of Tzfat, only to realize that our kids were not there...and we didn't know where they were. I went back to the entrance to the balcony and it was already locked. After a little investigation, we were brought back into the synagogue, guided to the rear, walked through a door, and VOILA, a rather large banquet room with dozens of people, including our children, seated at a long table eating a catered (and home made) lunch. NOW I understand why all the women were walking back and forth!

I joined them at the table, ate lots of good food, and then Baruch, the bar mitzvah dad, came to me and said that in this very room Kabbalah was studied by its founders centuries ago. Fantastic. And to think I was eating cucumbers and bell peppers in the same spot!

Baruch's brother and sister took us on a tour of the town. They wanted to show us their grandparents house. When we arrived, it had a Hebrew sign on the outdoor wall stating that this was the home of Tauro, one of the founders of Kabbalah. That was way cool. They took us then to a small, family run cheese factory where we sampled a bunch of cheeses and bought a bunch more to bring home. Not to worry..we purchased the cheeses that don't require refrigeration. Lezak, get ready for a very holy tasting!

The girls and I made a shopping dash up and down the artists street. Tomorrow is our 15th wedding anniversary and thanks to Rebecca's sharp eye, we found a great peace of art depicting Yemin Moshe in Jerusalem. Anniversary gift to Marci. CHECK.

Rebecca had a custom pair of earrings made for her and Shayna found a necklace. We all ate ice cream and headed back to the hotel to gather our suitcases and head back to Jerusalem.

The Goldsteins invited us to join them in their private mini-bus, assuming it was large enough. The thought of NOT taking public transportation back?? When a 16 passenger bus arrived, we all smiled. When the driver said, "I thought only 3 people," we became a very quick family. Phil, my new brother-in-law, welcomed us on the bus and off we went.

Driver (not quite sure he actually believes where one family): What hotel are you going to?

Phil: King David.

Driver: And what hotel are YOU going to?

Marc: King David

So, we PRETENDED to be guests at the King David; then took the quick walk to the David Citadel.

We've run into my new brother, niece, and nephew a few times in Jerusalem. Oh, how nice it is to bump into family when you travel.

After a few hours of rest, we decided to conduct our own version of an Israeli restaurant taste test. We were still craving sushi so we went, this time, to the non-kosher restaurant to see if, indeed, non-kosher was better.

Truth be told, we all decided we'd had enough sushi in Israel and we were looking forward to having, how shall we call it.....sushi......when we get home!

The girls and I took the bus to the central bus station where we tried to get a refund on the unused tzfat tickets. Since they wouldn't issue a refund, we decided to give the tickets away to Israelis waiting for the tzfat bus. Funny thing, we had a real hard time giving them away. Its not that we LOOKED like tourists, but when a very Americanized Hebrew speaking man with two daughters does, indeed, tell you the tickets are free, he's not going to use them, and needs to return to the US, its OK to take them. Eventually, two women took pity on us and took the tickets.

We made one more attempt to find the family of an old friend from a trip 15 years ago. While we didn't find them, Rebecca did SCREAM walking down the street saying someone was spitting on her. I looked up and saw three haredi boys with a squirt gun several floors above... Oh, the joy of chastising them in Hebrew. Then, a few grandmas came by on the street and asked what happened. I explained and then THEY started yelling at the boys. I love Israel.

We ended up walking all the way back to the Hotel where we all but collapsed in the room. When Marci finally finished Wexner about 10 pm, she wanted to head into town for waffles and ice cream. Rebecca and I stayed in the room to sleep. Shayna, the party animal, headed out for more...

Wednesday, July 1 MY BEST DAY IN ISRAEL EVER Jerusalem

This will be a long one.

Today was THE BEST day I have had in Israel...and I figure that's about 500 days.  I had NO idea it would even be a mediocre day but this was a great surprise.

We set a 6:30 am wake up to get to breakfast by 7 and get a taxi by 7:30 to get the girls to the first day of Camp Ramah at the Israel Goldstein Youth Village, the exact locale where Marci and I first stayed as high school students on the 1981 summer Ulpan trip.  (I was going to write that it was the first place Marci and I slept in Israel but that would be an overstatement, especially for a 16 year old!).  Who would have thought, then, that we'd be bringing our daughters back to the same place.

The girls were NONE too excited about camp.  While we scheduled it back in the day when I was going to participate in Wexner, we still figured it would be good for them to have some kid time, swimming, and maybe even meet a new friend or two.  

I pride myself these days on keeping taxi fares down.  We were double crossed (if that can happen in Israel).  Our taxi followed another one bringing another family to the camp.  When I went to negotiate the price, he told me I would be charged the price of the first cab's meter.  Of course, the first cab didn't put on the meter and the guy charged us 35 shekels for the ride. (The trip back, which I DID have on the meter, was 25 shekels).  

The camp director's last name is Ser and we believe she's a cousin of Marci's as there are few Ser's in Israel.

For the first day of camp, Rebecca went to a soup kitchen where she first prepared and then served food.  In fact, they stuck her and the other girls her age in a taxi caravan to the place.  They enjoyed the trip, as well as the fun they had when none of the drivers in the caravan could find the place (and when they tried to overcharge the counselor for the trip; giving the campers a first-hand view of a big-ol fight between the counselor and the driver.)  Once the counselor threatened to call the police, the driver backed off.

We were a bit concerned about whether Rebecca would like the camp.  There were only 3 other kids in her group and she's a bit anxious about new social situations.  Shayna, on the other hand, is a camper type.

So....when I went to pick them up....I saw Shayna first and I asked, "How was it?"  She said, "Rebecca loved it.  Me, not so much."  Rebecca reported that there were 3 other kids and they were all really nice.  Shayna reported there were 14 other kids and none of them were nice.  Rebecca was so excited about the soup kitchen and having time to talk with her new friends.  Shayna started negotiating the end of her camp experience.  Surprises like this are good for parents...and remind us not to categorize our kids!

My fabulous day really got going after I dropped off the girls.  I was committed to NOT paying $6 for each shirt to be laundered so I found the self-service laundry.  Turns out, for $12 they'll do a load of wash, dry, and fold for you....in 3 hours.  So, I returned to the hotel ($25 metered fare!), grabbed a bag full of laundry, walked up into town, and, by 9 am, had the laundry in.  Back to the hotel, on my own now for the first time in weeks, checking email, hearing the news (anyone know that Michael Jackson died?), and then off for a 10 am interview of Burt and Betty Edelstein for my next book on Jewish immigrants to Israel in the 1960s and 1970s.  I decided to take the public bus out there (concierge no help) and LOVED that I was successfully able to navigate my way to Emek Rafaim, then down a street, to an alley, to the apartment, etc.  I must admit to some self-consciousness to being on a public bus given all the terror a few years ago.  While life in Israel, thankfully, has returned to normal for years and years, I haven't had much of an opportunity to experience that....so I WAS thinking about terrorism on the trip over.

I was excited to meet the Edelson's as well because their son in law, an academic historian and author of several outstanding books (one in American Jewish history) was just named Israel's Ambassador to the US (Michael Oren).  While they were telling me their aliyah story, they mentioned (and ONLY THEN did I realize that I knew the story) that their daughter, two weeks into a year program in Israel, was one of the victims of the suicide bombers on the buses.  I felt an immediate connection between my ride over to their apartment and reality they brought me to with their story.  

So, I loved conducting the interview, being on sabbatical, writing a new book, traveling in Israel, conversing in Hebrew, achieving success in taxis, laundry, buses; it's all good.

After the interview, I was walking back down the street, only to hear an Israeli construction worker YELLING in his cel phone.  He was just YELLING and YELLING. I looked over at him and could only think, I LOVE ISRAEL.  This is way cool.  A few minutes later, I stopped at a felafel stand, sat down to eat, and this Israeli starts YELLING at the shop owner.  He kept on YELLING and YELLING.  All I could think was, I love Israel.   I headed back, by bus of course, to the hotel...no....not to the hotel....I got this idea...stay on the bus a little longer...ride up the hill to the laundry mat...see if my clothes are ready.  How spontaneous!  (I plan on that every day).  Sure enough, the clothes were ready early and I carried the clothes back down the hill to the hotel, proudly holding the huge bag up on my shoulder (as I carried bunches of bananas when I lived on kibbutz) right into the lobby of the David Citadel....just waiting for someone to ask how they, too, could get all their clothes laundered for just 47 shekels.  No one asked but I was happy anyway.

Another break in the hotel room to gather all our things together for this afternoon's journey to Tzfat, a 3.5 hour bus ride from the central station in Jerusalem to Tzfat, where the girls and I will stay for the night before attending the bar mitzvah of Tal Cohen, one of Rebecca's classmates and a boy (now man) whose family has generations-long ties to Tzfat, where Kabbalah and the celebration of shabbat were developed.  

I went for the cab and the guy had the nerve to tell me it would be 50 shekels.  I told him the meter was 25 shekels.  He said it's rush hour.  I said it's 1 pm.  He said there's lots of traffic.  I said there's always lots of traffic in Jerusalem.  He said 35 shekels.  I said 30.  He said, "Let's not disagree over 5 shekels" and he took 30 shekels for the fare.  I love Israel.

I picked up the girls at the pool where Shayna gave the report I mentioned above.  We hopped in another cab to the central bus station (30 shekels and that was a fair fare).  They needed lunch so I plopped them down at a table with our suitcase while I shuttled the food over.  There was a soldier with an Uzi automatic weapon seated at the table so I told Rebecca not to be concerned about her safety!  We purchased our tickets and I was good dad, ensuring 1) that the girls went to the bathroom before boarding the bus 2) that they were fed lunch 3) that I had snacks for the ride.  I feeling just a little bit like Marci.

Even at this point, it was already my best day ever; getting the facility and ease of navigating the culture.

Wait....Rabbi sighting....Rabbi Elliott Tepperman on Yafo Rd. last night.

Rabbi sighting...Rabbi Chaim Seidler Feller eating dinner along Yafo Rd.  (I actually did go in the restaurant to say hi).

The bus to Tzfat actually departs from the street in front of the Jerusalem convenion center (binyamin h'uma) so the girls and I, in the heat, dragged our suitcase, and their camp backpacks.  Our bus number was not listed but we were told it was the right place.  As a very prepared traveler, we were 15 minutes early for a bus that was 20 minutes late!  The girls were incredible just sitting in a shady spot and chatting with one another while we waited.

Only a minor rush to press onto the bus.  I was a bit miffed that no one gave the girls any respect.  So, I just put my arms out to either side, blocking anyone from getting on the bus and making a space for the girls to walk.  One guy gave me a look so I said, in my best Hebrew, "hey, I've got daughters."  Based upon body language and inflection, he could care less.  I love Israel.

Once on the bus, everyone took both seats for themselves.  We were already in the very back and no two seats together for the girls.  I kindly asked 3 people to double up so the girls could together.  No one obliged.  This time, I did not like Israel.

So...I simply deposited Rebecca onto one seat, forcing, of course, the women who placed every bag she could imagine on the seat to keep it open, to move her things.  I did the same for Shayna on the other side, and I sat between them on the very back seat.  It was a Dollinger triangle in between not-so-nice Israelis.  I sat next to a Haredi guy who, I knew, would not sit next to Rebecca (and maybe not Shayna).  I did take advantage of the fact that I was just a dumb tourist so I started a whole conversation with the Hassidic guy pretending that I was unfazed by the worlds of differences between us.

We drove about 30 minutes outside the city when...

A loud explosion hit the bus, followed, in incredibly short order, a series of loud and repetitious bangs.  Bang.  Bang.  Bang.  Bang. Bang.  It all happened in just 3 or 4 seconds but here, in real slow motion, was the scene for me:

Explosion and jolting of the bus....Shock....Shock....Shock...Curiousity (what was that?)...Was it a bomb?....bang...bang...bang...Is someone firing at us?.....The bus is still in one piece and so are we.  Ergo, that wasn't a bomb.  We must have had a tire blow out.  (And the wheel well was right underneath where Shayna was sitting).

In those precious few seconds, I did look up the rows on the bus to see many of the Israelis putting their arms out just to calm everyone to say it was alright.  

The driver pulled to the side of the road.  No one was upset about the flat tire.  Perspective!

While we sat there and the driver was calling for repairs on his cel phone, I thought, "how cool.  Stuck on the side of the road in an Egged public bus outside Jerusalem on our way to Tzfat."  I opened up my handy dandy backpack, pulled out lots of fully charged electronic games, drinks, snacks. (Marci, be proud!) and gave so many thanks that we all DID indeed go to the bathroom BEFORE we got on the bus.

Then, I got a little real.  How long, exactly, will this be fun?  When will it become frustrating?  When will it become angering...

It was slightly angering when the repair truck came, all the repair guys got out; they spent a whole lot of time staring at the flat tire...but NO ONE would actually work on it.  Welcome to Israel.  I love Israel.

I have been very excited about my Hebrew; getting most of what people tell me.  Interesting observation: when the bus driver got on the PA to explain our situation and what we would be doing to solve it, I could not understand A SINGLE WORD.  What a time for my language skills to fail me.  Fortunately, I was able to get it translated.

I got on the phone and just started calling folks; Marci, my friends, family.  I loved that I have all these Israel cel phone numbers to call.

90 minutes later, a replacement bus arrived.  We all piled off our bus and onto the other.  Of course, what's the rule here?  Same seats?  Same rush on board?  Oy.

We were the last off our bus (sitting in the back row) and last on the new bus.  So, imagine our surprise when there was a row of empty seats for the girls (on an identically sized bus) and the Haredi guy took the way back and gave me his two seats in the row.  I suppose after an experience like that, people were willing to sit a little closer.  I do love Israel (and I ended up quite chatty with the folks who initially wouldn't give up their seats).  Heck, I even let one guy use my cel phone (as long as he promised not to call outside Israel :)

All told, we were on that bus for 5 hours.  The girls remained incredible travelers.  Our new Israeli friends on the bus told us a better place to disembark the bus with directions to get us right to the Hotel.  

We arrived about 9 pm, met up with the Goldsteins (Phil, Ari, and Hallie), classmates of Rebecca (well, not Phil.  He's the dad but I think would admit to some childishness) who also came for Tal's bar mitzvah.  We ate a late dinner at the hotel and climbed into bed to get ready for a 6:30 am wake up call for the bar mitzvah.

What a day!

Tuesday June 30 Tel Aviv-Jerusalem

The entire reason we elected to stay in Tel Aviv these two days, believe it or not, (and believe it), is because Tel Aviv sponsors a once-a-week open air crafts market...only on Tuesdays.  While Marci didn't get there right at the 8:30 am opening (and she did ask what time it opened), we made our way over, in the heat and humidity once again, for a stroll through the crafts.  Mostly, Marc tried to find more cold water to drink; the girls wanted ice cream (and did some kvetching), while Marci sailed through the arts stalls.  Plan B: Marc sits in the shade with the girls and waits for Marci.  Plan C: Marc promises the girls anything and everything if they just hold it together.  We took a walk down a famous fashion street (whose name, of course, I've already forgotten) and got ourselves to a sit-down AIR CONDITIONED restaurant for lunch.   Thanks Cousin Donna for the recommendation.  Yeah!

After lunch, we headed back to the hotel, convinced the bellman that 5 large suitcases, 5 hand bags, and 4 people DID NOT necessarily have to add up to 2 taxis to get to Jerusalem.  "Put some on the roof," Marc suggested.  So, with a few suitcases strung to the roof, we were off, once again, for the Holy City.

This time, we're staying at the David Citadel hotel, at the base of King David St., overlooking the Old City (though our room overlooks a beautiful, if not so ancient and breathtaking, parking lot).  If all the tour groups stay at our last hotel, the Dan Panorama, this is the place of high society, and, no real offense intended, a whole lot of folks from some part of New York City or even Long Island.  Let's just say its a different mood in the lobby; especially when I asked the concierge what public bus to take to Emek Rafaim.  He had to look it up.  I guess there aren't too many people here who take the public bus....or ask for the location of the nearest self-service laundry...or whether there's a surcharge to make a toll free call from the room...or whether there's a restaurant open in Jerusalem on Erev Shabbat that won't charge the $75/person flat rate buffet that the hotel sponsors.  It's not all that bad, Rebecca asked for an extra blanket and it came right up!

At this point in the blog, and in the trip, Marci will post on her own.  This afternoon, she began the Wexner program while the girls and I began our week together in Jerusalem.  As Marci went poolside for the opening reception of Wexner, our friend Renee and her four kids came in from Bayit Vegan and we went out for dinner...SUSHI (which ALL of us were craving).

I even went out ahead, scouted a place, and made a reservation.  Our group of 8 arrived at the appointed time and I asked a rhetorical question in Jerusalem: is this restaurant kosher?  What about shrimp appetizers isn't kosher.  Cancel the reservation.  Renee, Marc, and 6, count them six, kids head up towards Zion Square in search of Sushi.  We actually found two Sushi restaurants, neither kosher, and continued on...with each treif sushi place telling us that the kosher one was terrible sushi and we shouldn't eat there. (Renee was NOT too happy about that!).  We did make it to Japaniki KOSHER sushi and indulged.

After dinner, we went back to Zion Square so the girls could go back to their favorite bookstore and game store.  

Exhausted, we came back to the hotel and slept.

Monday, June 29 Tel Aviv

Our first day on our own began with SLEEP.  We slept and slept and slept.  Marci's cousin Donna (spelled Dana in Hebglish) came over and we enjoyed brunch on the beach in front of the hotel.  We headed back so Marci could meet with Estee and Renee, two of her girlfriends from elementary school who visited for a few hours.  We headed out, then, for a walk along Ben Yehuda St., with Rebecca clinging to a few ads for clothing stores she found in the tourist magazines.  One shirt later, we headed for more window shopping, a stop at Max Brenner's Chocolate for a rather obnoxious collection of assorted chocolate desserts plus hot chocolate.  Marc enjoyed...cold...refreshing...bottled water.  (They had sugar free chocolate two years ago..but alas).  We headed over to the port for dinner with Margalith, a friend we met years ago on a cruise around South America with our friends from Princeton, Sunny and Herb.  Marc left early to get back to the hotel to meet his 5th cousins, the Nemlichs, for a brief visit. Thanks to this computer, I actually had a copy of my family history on the hard drive and we spent some time reviewing our relations and determining that Rebecca and Shayna now know their 6th cousins.  That is inspiring!

Tomorrow, back to Jerusalem!

Israel Photos!

Thanks out to Steve for giving me a whole bunch of his pictures to include in the blog!  (and to Shlomo the photographer for some of the bat mitzvah pictures as well).  Scroll down as I'm adding photos to some older blogs...

After the service at the Western Wall

The four Bnai Mitzvah posing in Yafo

Giving Rebecca her parent's blessing..

All the proud bnai mitzvah parents (and grandparents)

The four bnai mitzvah during the service..

Kfar Blum to Tel Aviv

The last day of our group tour.  We packed up, moved out of the room, enjoyed breakfast and then started the long drive to Tel Aviv.

We stopped first in Tzfat, where we toured a few synagogues, did some shopping, and ate lunch. We encountered a rather tyrannical, fascist, demogogic, (what else can I say) individual in one of the synagogues who first protested that 7 and 8 year old girls had ONLY their shoulders covered and not their elbows when they entered the synagogue he was working.  Then, he was quite obnoxious about getting us to give tzedakah money.  Then, and worst of all, when we were all standing OUTSIDE the synagogue, in a nearby courtyard, singing L'cha Dodi, which was written at that synagogue, he came outside and YELLED at us for disrespecting a holy place.  Our offense: having women sing alongside men.  If only I would have told them, "that actually wasn't just a woman singing, that was our rabbi."  Alas, better not to go there...

We did a little shopping, got some communal gifts for Rabbi Stacy and Irene, our educator, to thank them for all they have done for the group, and then headed back to the bus.

We stopped next in Caesaria and sat on the beach while the girls (and most of the group) took a nice ocean swim.  This was the place where Hannah Senesh wrote Eili Eili (Our God, we pray that these things never end, the sand and the sea, the rush of the waters, the flash of the heavens, the prayers of man.).  We didn't have any storms in the heavens but the rest of it was vivid and inspiring.

We headed into Tel Aviv and enjoyed our last meal (NOT last supper) together in the Yemenite section of Tel Aviv.  The restaurant was GREAT even as the surroundings were the worst I've seen in Tel Aviv (or Israel).  We took advantage of the rule that Havdalah can be delayed until as late as Tuesday in order to make our havdalah tonight, to separate the holiness of our time in Israel from the mundane...dare I say it....of San Rafael and Marin.  It was as meaningful as it was for us....as it was curious for the Israeli passerbys wondering who are these people, why are they praying havdalah with men and women together, and WHY are they doing it on Sunday night?  Reformim!

We said goodbye to our group, hired a taxi to move us and our 235, 435 pieces of luggage (OK, only 4 large suitcases and 7 hand things; but it felt like more) to the Crown Plaza Hotel in Tel Aviv.  We made a bunch of phone calls to friends and relatives as we set up the next two days before we head back to Jerusalem for Marci's Wexner week.

Lailah tov!

Rebecca delivering her d'var..

Shayna and Emma at the Kfar Blum pool..

Shayna and Rebecca swimming at Caesaria..

Kibbutz Kfar Blum

Shabbat shalom!  

We're at Kibbutz Kfar Blum guesthouse in the Upper Galilee.  It turned out to be a great shabbat experience; the guesthouse welcomes Israeli Orthodox; Israeli secular; and tourists from around the world; each observing (or not observing) shabbat in their own way.

For our group, we started with a grand buffet breakfast and then headed over for shabbat morning t'filah, in our bathing suits!  Rabbi Stacy led the service and Rebecca delivered the d'var she wrote for her (third) bat mitzvah ceremony.  

After t'filah, we all boarded the (shabbat) bus for the ride to the Jordan River and our rafting/kayak adventure.  We picked a six person (OK, 1 man, 5 girl/women) boat with Ellen and Sophie Levin.  We donned life jackets, a few oars, climbed into the raft and we were LAUNCHED into the river.

Alex, a member of our group from the former Soviet Union, remarked that the Jordan river was just like the Russian River.  We told him that ANY river he was on....was the RUSSIAN river.  :)

There was one rapid....err slow....on the river.  We all stayed in the boat (unlike our last trip here 2 years ago).  We also learned that they pump water into the river to keep the boats floating...and when we arrived way late in the day two years ago, they decided NOT to turn the water back on for us...leaving us to have to drag the boats as much as float them.

We walked back to our rooms after the river expedition, showered, lunched, and then hopped on the (shabbat) bus for a 75 minute drive to Rosh Hanikra, the Israeli/Lebanese border right at the Mediterranean Sea.  It has a cable car that goes down to grottos.  In high school, we welcomed an Israeli exchange student to our home in L.A., Eran Naveh.  We've kept in touch over the decades and he drove up to visit, ever briefly, at Rosh Hanikra.  I also got to gaze, from afar, at my kibbutz, Hanita, located very near.  

We spent an hour or so touring the grottos and then returned to Kfar Blum in time for a walking tour of the ...kibbutz...  We learned that the children are no longer raised together, everyone gets a different salary, most all meals are eaten in private homes rather than the dining hall, even the cherished communal laundry is gone as most people now how their own machines.  Our guide, a third generation kibbutznik, isn't actually a kibbutznik since she merely rents her house from the kibbutz, works in town, and therefore, keeps all her salary.  We asked the difference between a kibbutz and a moshav (which is a collective farm with individual ownership).  She said the kibbutz is almost now a moshav.

Having had a few hours break from the bus, we hopped back on again and drove to Rosh Pinnah.  (I forgot what "Pinnah" meant in English and learned it was "corner."  Then I remembered the Purim song, "Ha'kovah sheli shalosh PINOTE..." and it all made sense.

Since the trip ends tomorrow, we came back and spent the late night packing...

Tel Aviv to Kibbutz Kfar Blum

Today was another big travel day.  We, thankfully, were able to sleep until 8 am, then get ourselves checked out of the hotel and on the bus.  First stop, Caesaria, where we toured the amphitheater, the ruins, walked along the seashore that inspired Hannah Senesh to write Eili, Eili.

From Caesaria, we continued North to a Druze village on Mt. Carmel where we learned about the Druzim and then feasted on a Druze lunch (best Hummous so far!).

We continued North again; this time to the Golan Heights where we hopped in jeeps and rode over the old Syrian positions, learned about the 1967 war, and about the possibility of returning the Golan for peace with Syria.

From there, to Kibbutz Kfar Blum and its guest house for Erev Shabbat and some time for the adults in the group to reflect on the experience (only 2 days left of the synagogue trip) while the kids entertained themselves with lots of games.

Shabbat shalom.

The girls at a dinner..

A Druze lunch with Emma, the newest Dollinger

On a jeep with Gene and Emma in the Golan Heights..

Tel Aviv

The debate this morning: is Tel Aviv in a heat wave?  Answer: No, it's just Tel Aviv in the summer.

We headed out for a family scavenger hunt in the first neighborhood of Tel Aviv (now 100 years old).  After about 4.2 minutes of sweating, our group (Dollingers and Jaffes) decided to duck into a restaurant for some cool liquid refreshment.  Game Over.

Until...we asked a simple-minded question of our server: Where is Independence Hall?  She looked perplexed, not known WHERE the Hall was located NOR EVEN WHAT IT WAS.  We explained to her, "It's the place where Ben Gurion declared independence."  She'd had no clue and went to ask the other guys working there the same question.  They had no idea.  Incredulous, I walked over to the bar and quizzed these young Israelis on how it was that they could be raised in the Israeli educational system and NOT know where it was, nor even that it existed.  They shrugged.  With Noah Jaffe on the video camera, we forged back into the heat, stopping random Israelis to ask them where we could find Independence Hall.  If they didn't know, we asked them what it was.  If they didn't know that, we taught them and asked why they didn't know.  Most of the older Israelis knew exactly what it was; few of the younger Israelis did.  Oy.

In true (or semi-true) Borat style, we took ourselves RIGHT IN FRONT on Independence Hall and started asking Israelis right there if they'd heard of it :)    (They had though they couldn't recall the last time they went in).

We toured the Hall and it was quite impactful for those in our group, especially as the assembled group of tourists began to sing Hatkivah spontaneously when the original 1948 recording of the Israel orchestra was played.  Noah is making a movie of the interviews if you're interested...

We spent the afternoon in the cool air conditioning of the hotel, catching up on email, blog, and sleep.  Yeah.

In the evening, we head to Yafo, where we spent some time in the Shook, eating some baked goods from Abulafia (sp?), and then headed to "The Old Man and the Sea" for an immense dinner.

Two years ago, we attended a concert by Mayumana with David Broza.  This time, it was just Mayumana.  For an hour and a half, we experienced the Israeli version of Stomp (but with music and singing as well as dance).  It was spectacular....and the curtain call had the 10 cast members, drums in hand, just walking off the stage, out of the auditorium, encouraging the audience to follow them outside, where they continued the concert for another 15 minutes in the parking lot.

Lailah tov.

Sde Boker, Beer Sheva, Tel Aviv

A wise tour leader canceled this morning's hike at the Ramon Crater, given the feedback from a bunch of exhausted, overheated hikers from yesterday.  Instead, we stood on the edge of the crater, learned its geologic history, took some pictures, and got back on the bus!

We went next to the gravesite of David Ben Gurion and heard some of his story.  Then, on to Beer Sheva, which has grown quite a bit since I last visited in 1986.  We were invited to a pre-school/kindergarten for Jewish and Arab children, part of a program called "hand in hand" meant to create primary social relationships between Jews and Arabs by creating a bilingual curriculum.  The kids went to play with the Israeli children while the adults heard from the leadership about the project and its mission.  

From there, we went to the Ayalon Institute outside Tel Aviv, to learn about a group of young people who created and operated a clandestine ammunition factory in a basement of a kibbutz between 1945 and 1948. When we finished, Marci and the girls went with the group to the hotel while I stayed behind to conduct two more interviews, this time with the Rosenfelds.  Melodie and Sherman came out of Berkeley in the 1960s.  I was introduced by Irene Resnikoff, our synagogue educator who is along on the trip.  Little did either of us know that I actually studied Sherman's student days at Berkeley and I reported on it in my counterculture chapter for California Jews.  It is always humbling to meet historical actors whom you have described in print.  Fortunately, he thought I did an accurate job (and actually made only one mistake in over-crediting him for something).  For the SF and BHDS readers, he was the one who organized a "sit in" and a "pray in" at the SF Federation in 1971 to demand that it fund Brandeis Hillel Day School.  Special to Sam, Amy, and the rest from Advancement, I did give him an appropriate donor thank you!  Special to Cal alum..  Go Bears...and Sherman and Melodie were the founders of the Israel Action Committee at Berkeley.  (Special to those engaged by Reform Judaism in Israel. Mike Nitzan, whom I interviewed a few days ago in Jerusalem, was the first Reform wedding at Kibbutz Lotan and he sought, unsuccessfully, to have his marriage become a test case through the Israeli legal system. ).

Sherman brought me to the train station.  I hopped on a Tel Aviv bound train and made my way to the hotel.  We enjoyed dinner at Susanna's in Neve Tzedek with Stacy Friedman, Ellen Levin, and the kids.  Query?  Where did the shrimp on that menu come from?   Welcome to Tel Aviv!

Oh, yah, and one more thing...it's HUMID here.

Marc

Shayna and the children at the Arab/Jewish school..

Rebecca playing soccer at the Arab/Jewish school..

Marci and the other adults learning about the Arab/Jewish school..

Masada, the Dead Sea, and the Negev Desert

This was a very early morning.....yet another 6 am wake up call.

We loaded our suitcases and headed out, and DOWN, to the Dead Sea.

After a morning drive through East Jerusalem and onto the West Bank (ooohh,  aaahhh, big reaction from tourists on the bus), we made our way to Masada, passing the caves of Kumran on the way.

What can I say, it was HOT.  How hot?  VERY HOT?  Actually, for readers from the trip two years ago, it was VERY COLD.  Rabbi sighting.... Phil Nadel...leading a group up the mountain.    We took the cable car up the mountain and Maron, our guide, shared the story.  We were all melting (with all due respect to Elphaba).  Rebecca and I retreated to shade about halfway through.  

From Masada, we headed to Ein Gedi, where we were told....15 minutes walk to the spring; 30 minutes swimming; 15 minute walk back.  NOT TRUE.  Instead, hike up the mountainside in blistering heat, lots of kids, a few grandparents and one none-too-happy diabetic (that be me).  The oasis was...refreshing  (just keep all the algae and moss off of you) and the brought body temperature and tempers down.  Still, not much left in my tank by the time that experience was over.  Shayna did well until she decided to play soccer with an underwater rock.  Ouch.  We hiked back down, counting the steps, sighting the buildings in the distance, recalling ALL the water we had drunk all day, realizing that, yes, we really did have to go the bathroom....walk...walk...jog...jog...there's the building...pictograms are great (no need to read the Hebrew)...enough!

By the time we got to the Dead Sea, the Dollinger family went on collective strike.  Shayna has heat rashes on her body (not so good in the Dead Sea).  Marc was still way wiped out; Rebecca wanted rest and air conditioning.  Marci had blisters...  and so we sat in the restaurant.  When the rest of the group returned, we heard harrowing stories of a dead sea so receded that the hike there was compared to, yes, say it, the Ein Gedi hike we'd just completed! 

From the Dead Sea, we drove inland, through Arad, and then Dimona where we DID NOT SEE the Israeli nuclear plant, then on to a Beduin village, sort of... It's actually a tourist tent village created by Israelis to LOOK like a Beduin village, but it was way fun anyway.  We all went into a giant tent, sat on the floor (after a few minutes, I did, indeed, realize that there was actually no place for my legs), and they brought out HUGE amounts of really good food; salads, hummus, beduin bread, lamb shishlik, chicken kabobs, roasted chicken, blah blah blah.   After dinner we moved to another tent for some stories, history, music, mint tea and dessert.

Then, the bravery begins...a camel ride.

These are mean looking camels (are there nice looking camels), all tied together in a long train, two to a camel.  Shayna and I were together, which was fine until they said, "Get on the camel at exactly the same moment because the camel with try to stand up as soon as he senses someone climbing on."  On your mark, get set...

As Shayna and I held on for dear life, the camel jolted butt up, face up, back, forth, WE'RE ON! (except that someone from Rabbi Mona Alfi's group was bitten by one of them there camels and Shayna witnessed it).  She was quite scared and all my encouragement could do NOTHING once the camel behind us decided to investigate Shayna REALLY CLOSE.  OK, so close that the camel's head was at Shayna's waste and Shayna's mouth was wide open screaming.  We did get the handler to come over the keep the camel back from Shayna...until Marci yelled from the camel behind us, "He licked me!"  This, at least, made Shayna laugh.  We decided, Marc and Rebecca liked the ride.  Shayna and Marci, not so much!

We were back on the bus and off to our hotel in Mitzpe Ramon, a small town in the Negev desert famous for a giant crater-like formation.

While it was only about 7 pm, we just vegetated in the hotel room and caught up on needed sleep!

Marc at Ein Gedi oasis..

Marci (far left) at Ein Gedi oasis..

Shayna, Marc, Rebecca, Marci (four on right) at Beduin Village..

A Beduin dinner!

Jerusalem BAT MITZVAH DAY

This was a great day...

We woke up quite early, in order to be out of the hotel by 7:30 am so that we could be first in line at the Western Wall for the bnai mitzvah service.  By 8 am, we were underneath Robinson's Arch, setting up our portable table, preparing the Torah, and beginning the morning service.  Rabbi Stacy led an inspirational service, with each of the four sets of parents delivering blessings to their child on their bat/bar mitzvah day.  (For Rebecca, this was more of a Torah reading and less a bat mitzvah since her official bat mitzvah was in March.  For the others, though, this was it!).  Each of the b'nai mitzvah read Torah, one parent (Marc in the Dollinger family) from each family read Torah, and all the parents had aliyot.  In order to bring Rebecca's grandparents into the moment, Marci and I dialed them up on our two celphones, and held the phones out over the Torah as Rebecca read.  That was a pretty cool contrast between the Herodian stones, the Temple Mount, the Torah scroll, and the cel phones.  It all worked out well...and at 11 pm CA time, didn't keep them up too late.

We hired Shlomo the photographer to document the event for us and the other families.  For $250, he delivered a completed photo album to us at dinner that evening! Bring's one-hour photo to a new digital level.

We toured the Davidson archeological park after the service, went to a museum, learned about the Second Temple Period, all the usual stuff at the Temple Mount  :)

From the ruins, we made a quick change at the bus and headed outside the old city walls to the City of David and Hezekiah's Tunnel, constructed just a few thousand years ago to get water to Jerusalem in case of a siege.  The tunnels are narrow, winding, full of water, and very fun.  For about half an hour, we trudged through, spotted the point at which teams from opposite digging sides met to complete the tunnel, and then exited into the fresh water pool.  This was Shayna's first trip in the tunnel and after screams of fear climbing in (it is a bit scary to get into a big pool of rushing water and forge into the darkness of a narrow tunnel), she turned on the flash light, started walking, and reassured us that it was "really fun."  This was the first time Marci walked the tunnel since Ulpan in 1981....when.....her future husband was somewhere in that tunnel with her....if we only knew...

Israeli version of running late: Drive bus to German colony; park in bus in illegal spot; holler at 36 tourists to quickly get off the bus, line up for felafel at the same felafel stand, buy the food, eat it, and cross the street to catch the bus at its next illegal parking spot......in 30 minutes.  On your marks...get set...

(And Marci even had a few minutes to spare for shopping.  Who knew?)

After lunch, we headed to Beit Shmuel and HUC to hear Anat Hoffman, director of Israel's Religious Action Center, tell us about the state of Reform (and Conservative) Judaism in Israel.  She was quite dire and angry, though we also heard of some important positive steps for religious pluralism in Israel.  When she finished, we all participated in boxing up food for Darfur refugees who had, literally, walked to Israel from Africa.

Back at the hotel, I conducted the first of my academic interviews for the next book on Jews and the 1960s.  I'm looking at American Jews who moved to Israel as a result of the counterculture, to determine how their American experiences in the 1960s led them to become Israelis.  I had a fantastic talk with Mike Nitzvan of Kibbutz Lotan, who is literally weeks from completing his Ph.D. at Hebrew U. on the evolution of Reform Zionism in the period I am investigating.

The four bnai mitzvah families hosted a celebration dinner at Anna Ticho House in Jerusalem.  We all met Shlomo there, rec'd our photo albums, and, coincidently, witnessed a wedding ceremony occurring on the patio of the restaurant.  The rabbi officiating was one of the few native-born Israeli women rabbis ordained at HUC.  (For those following rabbi sightings, we have also seen Rabbi Howard Laibson and Rabbi Mona Alfi.  For those following friend sightings, we see a lot of the Dordicks and spent the afternoon with the Bukis).

We walked home through Ben Yehuda, where it was time, once again, for a Babette Waffle.  (Not for Marc...but the rest enjoyed).  Thanks, Lezak.

This was our last day in Jerusalem....until we return for Wexner...

Rebecca reading Torah and the cel phone contacts with the grandparents..

Marc reading Torah..

Rebecca handing off the Torah.

Marci, Marc, Sue and Steve in Torah procession..

The Bat Mitvzvah

Rebecca leading a prayer..

The Shema...

The service...

The parents' blessing..

The bat mitzvah

With Cousin Donna..

The Bat Mitzvah girl.

Marci and Shayna...

Wearing her talit...

Jerusalem

This morning, our group split with most of the adults heading to Yad Vashem and most of the kids to the Jerusalem Biblical Zoo.  Marci and I opted for the zoo since we've both toured Yad Vashem several times.  Rebecca, who will be returning to Israel next Spring with her 8th grade class, said she wanted to wait and see Yad Vashem with her friends for the first time.

So, we played camp counselors to 9 kids and had a great morning at the zoo.

The afternoon was a trip highlight.  We drove towards Hebron (but did stop before the West Bank border) and stopped at an archeological site that invites tourists to help dig.  We climbed down a ladder into a subterranean room, were given tools and buckets, and spent an hour digging up pieces of pottery.  It was a thrill for each of us to dig, and to find stuff.  When the 25 of us finished, we formed a bucket brigade to hoist all the dirt from the floor of the cavern to the land above.

With that task complete, the guide took a few of us extra-willing souls to go cave exploring in an undeveloped area of the mountain.  Lit only by candles, we descended and starting climbing, crawling, squeezing, dropping, and rolling through a maze of rooms.  Our favorite; the toilet bowl; which, indeed, looked like a toilet bowl.  Only this one, you had to put your feet inside and drop down through it.  For adults, it only went chest deep.  For kids....  (let's just say they had spotters).  Turn about is fair play since the kids could easily slide through narrow openings in the rocks needed to get from one room to another.  The adults...not so much.  Let's not get too graphic but let's say that it was like a breech birth; legs push through first, then but, then shoulders, and arms; no idea what's on the other side....just PUSH and TRUST.  I would just like to acknowledge Nate Zilberg who had to witness me "birthing" about half a dozen times.  Then, again, Seth Jaffe and I got..well...a little too close.  (Nate did get a picture of me in one of those first few seconds of new life!)  Happy Fathers Day!

How I wish I had brought along with camcorder.  between the dust, the darkness, and the tight quarters, we were advised against.  Maybe next time...

We headed back to Jerusalem for much needed showers and then a quick dinner. Marci and Renee hung out in Jerusalem and I took the girls back to sleep.

We prepare now for a BIG DAY tomorrow as Rebecca reads Torah at the Western Wall, the third Torah reading on three continents in the last 6 months of her Bat Mitzvah year!.

Lailah tov.

Jerusalem

Our entire group decided to forego shabbat morning services in favor of some Israeli history and culture.  We headed in the morning to the Israel Museum where we toured the Shrine of the Book and then the Youth Wing.

We were unsuccessful in our negotiations with the taxi drivers.  They wanted 40 shekels off the meter.  We demanded 25 shekels (knowing that the meter would be 32 shekels).  It was actually fun to argue with a group of drivers, in Hebrew, as they lamented everything from "it's shabbat" to "we've been waiting 2 hours for a fare and you offer us 35 shekels!  As I pushed back at them, reminding them that it was, actually, shabbat when I paid 32 shekels that morning on the meter, one guy said to the other (in Hebrew).  "This guy speaks Hebrew.  You're not going to get anywhere."  We decided to start walking home, figuring the drivers would agree to what amounted to a $1.25 discount.  They didn't.  We were far too committed to that $1.25 to turn around ourselves.  We did catch a few taxis on the road that brought all the kids and a few chaperones back.  Marci, Stacy, and a bunch of others actually DID walk all the way back.  Nice job!

In the afternoon, we planned on visiting Marci's best friend from nursery school, Renee, who has lived in Israel for many years.  Then, we fell asleep.....and slept and slept and slept....for hours.  

About 7 pm, we walked over to Yemin Moshe, the windmill, overlooking the walls of the Old City (and the first neighborhood built outside the city walls).  We made havdalah as the sun set over the Old City and the flood lights along the base of the wall did, indeed, reflect back a gold hue, giving Jerusalem the nickname, "The Golden City."

After havdalah, and with restaurants now opening throughout the city, we went to a restaurant called Focaccia.  While I saw steak on the menu first, Marci saw a pasta with cream sauce.  It took a few nanno-seconds for us to realize that this was NOT a kosher restaurant.  (Hard to believe in Jerusalem!).  To be sure, we kept reading the menu; shrimp and then prosciuto.  And they were doing a GREAT business!

Shavua tov.

Jerusalem

In a touring day shortened by the approach of shabbat, we were out early and headed to the Western Wall, where we did NOT go to the usual prayer place at the Western Wall.  Instead, we toured a set of tunnels and excavations alongside the Wall, descending down to the level of one of the original roads and walking, underground, along the base of the Wall.  It was a walk we took on our trip two years ago but it was still quite impressive.  We ended up putting our notes in this section of the wall.

The end of the tunnel brought us to the Via Dolorosa, home to the stations of the Cross in Jesus' final moments.  We walked, learned, and eventually made our way to the Church of the Holy Seplicur (spelling?), site for many Christians of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.  As an observer to this Church, it was profound.  We climbed narrow and steep stairs to a room that contained the rock believed to have held the cross upon which Jesus was killed.  We watched elderly women climb underneath a table-like piece of furniture in order to kiss the rock and then cross themselves.  Watching them fulfill such a deep and meaningful religious act filled all of us observing with deep respect and humility.  Down on the main floor of the church, many others waited in line to go into the space of the resurrection.  They brought in candles and then lit more around the perimeter of the small chapel.  While I certainly do not believe the Christian narrative, I was surrounded by people who did; and for whom this experience was and would be a lifetime memory and opportunity.  That, I could understand and relate to on a very deep level.

We continued through the Arab shouk and then to the Jewish quarter for some shopping and lunch.  

In preparation for shabbat, we went next to Machane Yehuda, the outdoor food market, which was teeming with thousands of people preparing for shabbat.  It was, to be honest, a bit too overstimulating.  Rebecca and I ducked out soon.

For erev shabbat, we went to Kol Ha'nishama for services, then walked back to the hotel for an incredible buffet!

Shabbat shalom,

Marc and Marci

Elli's Bar Mitzvah

Today was Elli's big day.  We gathered with the Dordick family's guide in the hotel lobby, stopped to get a local rabbi who will be officiating at the service, and made our way to the Robinson's Arch section of the Western Wall, where non-Orthodox services are permitted.  When we arrived, we saw a group of about a hundred celebrants carrying a bar mitzvah boy on their shoulders, under a chuppah, singing and chanting as they walked through the Old City towards the Wall.  We set ourselves up and began the morning service, hearing the sounds of multiple other services on both our sides.  Elli chanted an incredible Torah portion (and, due to a rare glitch that has the US and Israeli Torah portions on a one-week stagger, Elli read the same portion that Rebecca and Marc will read at her Bat Mitzvah III next week.)  Needless to say, I listened carefully (Marc).

After the ceremony, the Dordicks continued on their tour of the Temple excavations while we returned to the hotel to....yes....practice our Torah portions for Monday!

A cab driver recommended a good felafel place (Shalom Felafel in Rehavia) and we decided to make the walk.  It was HOT; the walk was LONG; and we found a tiny tiny hole in the wall place where you order, pay, and eat in the same spot.  The felafel was great but, what can I say, I also value a table, a chair, and air conditioning!

We continued walking to the central bus station to get to the airport to meet the Rodef Sholom group arriving this evening.  

We were told that busses leave every half hour, on the hour and half, from gate 18.  We got to gate 18 fifteen minutes early to discover that the busses actually leave every half hour, on the quarter and three-quarter hour.  The bus was just pulling in.  We stood up to get in line....to discover....no line.  Just teems of people pushing, pressing, crowding, and cramping the door.  It was chaos; and an ordered one if you were one of the Israelis.  (Americans, not so much :)  After some futile and worthless pushing and waiting, the driver closed the door and pulled away, leaving us, and dozens of others, to wait for the next bus.  Minutes later, a new one arrived and the RUSH was on again...only this bus had a different number, was going to a different place, so Marci and girls retreated back and Marc pressed forward, NOT for this bus, but to be positioned better for the one that follows.  (quick study!).  Ten minutes later, the new bus starts pulling up, Marc signals Marci and girls to move in; alas, too slow, the crowd forms and presses leaving Marci and Shayna in the middle.  Rebecca squeezes through.  Marc and Rebecca board the bus, confirm that it does, indeed, go to Ben Gurion airport, and we save the front two seats for Marci and a Shayna that is invisible from my site on the bus amidst the crowd.  They made their way up and we were off...

Yeah...

Except that 40 minutes later, we pull off the highway, stop at this random streetcorner, and the driver announces "Ben Gurion Airport."  Dazed and confused, I asked the driver if this was REALLY the stop for the airport.  A kind passenger said, "Yes, you get off here and then wait for the #5 bus transfer to the terminal."  Then he showed me that my ticket did indeed have a transfer on it.  The joys of learning.

Some two hours after we began our journey in Jerusalem, we arrived at the airport and greeted the group.  Needless to say, the trip back on the tour bus was far less eventful!

We returned to Olive and Fish restaurant for the second time in three nights and then came back to sleep....6:30 am wake up in the morning!

Lailah tov.