Episode 09: "The O Zone, Pt. 1" (+)

So let's talk about this guy Oren for a second:

He's one of the best people you will ever meet.

I've mentioned him a couple times in blogs past, but it would be a shame not to divulge more about just how cool this young man is. I met him during my first trip to the Old City and it's been gravy getting to know him from there. His warm-heartedness, consideration, hilariousness and compassion are shining facets of his personality, and if you hang around him long enough and you'll start to realize that you're not the only one who loves the guy; he's got a quality that attracts just about everyone. So you can imagine being in his company for over two weeks for Passover break wasn't too much of a chore. My time in The Oren Zone was well, well spent.

The break started off with the Sea-to-Sea Hike, which turned out to be my final OSA trip ever. And it was a hell of a finale to a long line of great hikes the madrichim provided for us. Noa, the miss behind the hiking mayhem this year, divided us into "Survivor" groups that would arbitrarily compete against each other for a certain prize at the end of the hike. My team, which included Oren, was named "Givati", and we grew close pretty quick. This is the group:

Hellbent on glory.

Nati, Erica, Becca, me, Ari, Ashley, Zack, Sharon, and Oren.

We won a trivia challenge against other teams, lost at an arm-wrestling challenge (the other group cheated!) and won the best challenge of all: singing an original song. Ashley and I came up with the lyrics, which we sang to the tune of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." It killed at the final challenge, had plenty of heart, and won us the whole contest. It was icing on the cake to a really incredible weekend.

And speaking of the cake itself, the hike was a challenging, worthwhile experience. After a light hike the first day and a night spent at a semi-snazzy hotel, the real work began. Our guide, Guy (not the other Guy guide from first semester), kept us walking at a brisk pace. The scenery was always changing and always, always beautiful. The terrain went from rocky to grassy to hilly to woodsy to rocky again, springing up surprises like cows and creeks and pools and even a group of Druze women cooking for their husbands. On the first night of camp, we had a hilarious encounter with a centipede, ate dinner by the fire, and took turns watching over the camp site at night. The second night was a lot of the same, except Oren and I had a great conversation with a couple of people named Alex and Jenny during our night shift. A couple spectacular detours in our trip included bathing in a refereshing mikvah (a cleansing pool), as well as repelling, which I'd never done before.

Yes.

Anyway, finally reaching the end was amazing. The whole hike was a trip going east from the Mediterranean Sea and building up to arriving at the Sea of Galilee, and we reached the end in style. Noa had set up a visit to a pool right on the edge of the Galilee along with a barbeque, so we finished our hard, hot hike with full bellies and a refreshing dip in a cooled pool. Such a fantastic trip. Other than hiking and tent-ing it with Oren and other close friends, I got to know a bunch of good people, like Courtney, Jessica, Harry, Scott, Ben, Zack, Sharon, Allen and others.

The day after getting home, I bounced out to the city of Sderot, an Israeli city right on the edge of the Gaza Strip. It's famous for being bombed regularly by Arab militants. The city is shelled so often that their bus stations double as concrete bomb shelters, and people are regularly hurt or even killed by the routine rain of kasam rockets.

The Sderot police station.

And only a fraction of the total number of rockets

fired on upon the city along the station's walls.

As a group, led by the Man with the Plan, Rafi, we headed over to Lev Achad ("One Heart"), a non-profit organization dedicated to helping out the city. Through the organization, we got a job for the day at Sderot's community kitchen. At first we organized and gathered good fruit, but soon we were given bigger jobs. Since it was Passover, and half (I think) of the city's citizens were depending on the government for food, we had the privilege of putting together food packages to give out to waiting people. It became a madhouse as the crowd began to build outside of the center, anxious for the food they would be bringing home to their families.

I have no idea how Nicky caught me on camera smiling in all that chaos.

Because this is what it was like outside.

And the need for Passover food was no joke out there.

The next day, I went out with Val and Oren to Ein Gedi, a hiking spot near the Dead Sea known to be where David fled from Saul in the Good Ole Days. The spot is hot for its incredible waterfalls and pools in the middle of a dusty old desert, and hiking it out there was worth all the hype. At first we came upon some picture-perfect pools that were heavily crowded, so we brushed by those in hopes of finding something better, although not without stopping to take some of it in.

But in trying to find a more promising trail, we had a long trek ahead with a hot sun, rocky desert terrain and time running out before the trail closed for the day. Pressing onward, thirsty, tired and barely oriented for a concrete direction, a happy ending to the day wasn't necessarily a given. But when we finally reached the new trail, and were given some helpful advice by the nice guy selling tickets there, things started to turn around. Here's how:

And even further down the trail, we were able to find the "hidden" waterfall we'd been gunning for all day. It took some more desert walking, but we were so refreshed and relieved it really was part of a fun ride.

The waterfall at the end of the journey.

Reaping our reward.

We even had a fantastic time on the way back, trekking a course alongside a river flowing back from the final waterfall. The scenery was relentlessly beautiful and our spirits were at their peak. To top things all off, we were able to pull off a good deed for someone. A father and son were walking just ahead of us at one point, when a wind blew the a cap off the son's head and down a steep rock face. When the father saw that we felt bad for them, he said losing the hat was no problem, and kept walking. After they left us, Oren said that we should get it back, Val agreed, and I started climbing down the rock face. It was deja vu from my fine example of rock climbing in Petra, but I got through it. When the three of us ran and returned the hat to the father, his face lit up. He touched my cheek with his hand in thanks, beaming. The three of us felt pretty damn good.

We got home satisfied with our day and ready for the approaching Passover weekend, which Oren turned into sheer gold for me. To be continued and all that. But the short version is that he came through big time, and showed me--even more definitively--what a great friend he really is.

Shalom,

Eric

Episode 08: "The Judgment Call" (+++)

A week before Passover break, I went back to Petra. This time it was with buddies: Oren, Josh and Jen. After a near-fiasco in which I forgot to pack my passport and almost cost us our bus ride from Jerusalem, we managed to pull it together and set the journey in motion. We spent the night in Eilat and cabbed it in the morning to the Jordanian border.

Me, Jen and Oren. Josh snappin' the photo.
I got crackers in mah bag.

We met up with the guy who drove me the first time, Mohammad. It was really nice seeing him again. He was charging us more than last time because gas prices were rising in Jordan, but I trusted him. He was so sincere the first time, I was comfortable putting myself in his care again. He drove us out to a gas station and bought us food and drinks free of cost, which the crew was really impressed by. Then he suggested that we stop by the valley named Wadi Rum for a little extra money, but assuring us it was worth the price. We took our detour and did a little rock climbing and sand scuffling.


We arrived at our hostel, the Cleopetra, a couple hours later, settling in nicely with the help of one of the managers. Can't remember his name, but he reminded me an awful lot of a friend of mine named Greg back home, so...Greg was great, serving us tea, sitting down to chat, making all kinds of jokes. I was pretty taken by his goofy cordiality.

With the afternoon left, we went to see what we could of Old Petra. We got a short-lived tour, then did our own thing. Petra was as gorgeous and fascinating as ever.

In the river-cut and Nabatean-polished corridor to the city.

My main man Oren and I, chillin' in front of the famous Treasury.

Yours truly, in the belly of a smelly chamber.

We eventually began to make a side trek up one of the several spontaneous staircases that laced Petra's landscape. After taking a conventional route up the stairs for quite a while, Jen got the idea of making a steep vertical climb to a cool-looking spot atop one of the rock walls. Oren and Josh didn't think it looked too safe, but I was down for it. Jen and I put down our things and scaled separate sides of the wall.

I did fine at first, aware that it would be harder to get down than it would be to get up. But soon enough I was in a tough spot. I simply didn't see another handhold that would support my weight. And the footholds I had used to climb up were too narrow to safely descend with again. I tried to save face as Oren and Josh watched, but after a few minutes it was pretty obvious I was stuck. I was feeling the smallest beginnings of panic, regretting my horrible judgment call to blindly scale this thing and with no real experience or consideration of safety. Apparently Jen couldn't scale safely either, and she'd actually rock climbed as a hobby. She got down safely.

I heard some kid ask Josh and Oren if I was stuck, and soon after he walked into view. He was maybe twelve, fourteen. He was bedouin boy named Hani--one of the many Arabic nomads selling trinkets on the side of Petra's walking paths. He told me to hang on. Barefoot, and in about one minute, this kid scaled the wall no problem, guided me safely along the vertical face, and even told me to give him his hand once, pulling me up to better ground, getting me out of danger in no time. I told him thanks for saving my life, half joking.

Hani rescuing my sorry self.

With everyone smiling and relieved, Hani, the kid, asked me if I wanted to buy something. "I think that's the least I can do," I said.

You'll notice the camel bone pendant around my neck.

We finished out our first day in Petra with a little more exploring, then got a ride home from Greg. After catching some dinner, we were mulling over the idea of going to bed while a late-twenties guy named Ali started talking with Jen. He was really easygoing, really nice. Charming Jen and making a fine impression on us, it was easy to make our decision when he asked if we wanted to join him for a drink at the "Cave Bar" nearby Petra. And afterward, Ali took us to a small lookout over the modern cit of Petra, which was awesome.

Good times at the Cave Bar.

Ali, Josh, Oren and I at the lookout.

The next day, we made the long journey to the remote monastery deep in the old city of Petra. It was just as incredible as the treasury.

That was pretty much the grand finale of our time in the old city. We checked out a couple lookout spots nearby the monastery, but soon after we headed back. Ali picked us up by the park entrance and told us he wold be driving us back to the border, not Muhammad. As all of us sat down to discuss why and how much money we would be paying for the ride back, it came to Greg's attention how much we had paid Mohammad in the first place. He let us know we had been seriously ripped off. The price Muhammad had charged us wasn't even comparable to a fair price. At all. Which is when I experienced a potent Egypt flashback and steamed a little thinking about how easily I always let these guys cheat me. "Fool me once, shame on you" and all that.

We met Muhammad again, but we didn't give him much of a tip for his service. Leaving Jordan, I didn't feel the same disgust as I had leaving Egypt--because Ali and Greg had been so cool--but it was definitely a good riddance deal with Mohammad, whom I would never recommend to anyone ever again. There's only so much a guy can take.

Anyway. Jordan Part II was amazing. And aside from my terrible misjudgment of Mohammad's character and ludicrous brush with serious injury the day before, I had a great time. Getting to know Jen and Josh better, having my buddy Oren around, and seeing Petra with no rush was a fantastic time. I'm so fortunate to have been able to see Petra a second time, and with great friends to share the experience with.


Shalom,
Eric

Episode 07: "The Party Week" (+)

Purim is a holiday taken from the triumphant Biblical story of Esther, stretched out to become a week-long celebration in Israel involving Halloweenish costumes and lots and lots of partying. For about a straight week there were dance parties everywhere, and I decided to join in on some of the fun.

On Monday, I hit a club called Constantine, which is my favorite dance spot in Israel so far. Every time I've been for Student Night, there's been enough hip-hop to satisfy me before the inevitable devolution into the mess of techno Israelis seem to dig so much.

Tuesdsay, I helped out a little with setting up the synagogue I went to for Yom Kippur as a dance space for the university's Hillel party, which was a lot of fun. I was about the only one there who didn't care to dress up as something. Toward the end of the night I joined Ashley--my old dance contest partner in crime--in trying to win that night's contest. For some reason, though, I was extremely nervous, and had just about zero confidence going in. Oh, well. I went with it when it was our turn.


But even the combined skills of Eric and Ashley weren't enough to go against the "wow" factor of Breakdancing Ryan, featured below:

Couldn't even be mad we lost to this guy.
I'd rather watch him flare than me shake any day.

The next day (this would be the third day of partying in a row), I decided to go this party out in a huge building made for concerts and whatnot. It was really crowded, with tons of people in a bunch of ridiculous costumes. I wore a black garbage bag just to get people off my case about a "costume," even though I never came up a name for what I actually was. No pictures, though--'pologies.

I was pretty pooped by Thursday, when I helped out with an event put together by my friend and madrich (counselor or guide), Liav. The deal was helping kids put together their own Purim costumes at this community center a-ways off. I didn't do anything significant, but it was scary-fun trying to communicate with the kids. They were rowdy, bold with their words and incredibly funny. And, of course, adorable. After trying to keep them from stealing cookies for like an hour, I took some silly pictures with Ashley to close everything out.

An epic superhero rivalry, coming to its natural conclusion...

Friendship.

Saturday, I was absolutely done with all the partying. But there was one more shindig taking place right outside my building in the Student Village, and somehow one of my friends got me to go out for one final dance.

I hope I looked less awkward in real life.

Never partied that much in one week. First time for everything, I guess.

Shalom,
Eric

Episode 06: "The Absolute" (+)

This post is less of an entry than it is a heads up:

Things have changed a little since I left.

It's happened very, very gradually, but my attitude regarding alcohol is not what it used to be. Blame it on the Jews. A majority of the Shabbat dinners I've attended this year have encouraged a positive atmosphere of moderate drinking, rather than the puke-fests I've seen at Sarah Lawrence. So the change has been welcome, and my perspective on drinking adjusted.

The legal aspects of being here have helped, too. It's legal to drink in Israel at the age of 18, so I've never felt like I've had to hide anything from anyone. Again, it's a welcome switch from the underground barfathons I've caught back home in college. And with no dirty taboos clinging to the idea of drinking here, alcohol's been somewhat normalized this side of Eric. Plus, the fact that I've just turned 21 adds that extra sigh of relief for matters on the home turf.

So thus far, it's been a drunk-free (and even buzz-free) deal when it comes to drinking. I've come into the alcohol stuff way late in the game, so I'm taking the whole practice extremely slowly. But I do realize, after many a past verbal crusade against the idea of drinking, that my consumption of alcohol may shock or appall the .06% of you who still care about my drinking habits. For you (yes, you) in particular, I've decided to put together a preparatory program of sequential pictures that should, with regular review, lessen the chances of stroke or heart attack if you ever see me drink after my return. Watch closely, listen carefully, and trauma will be minimal should the situation arise [photos reference a real life bar attendance on March 3, 2008]:

1) Eric enters a bar, sober.

2) Eric takes a tequila shot, and chases it with a lemon.

3) Take note: Although Eric's goofy facial expressions may imply drunkenness, they are actually quite common in his day to day life. Please reference this example of Eric sober before calling an ambulance.

4) Eric concludes a night with his buddies, sober and smiling.

5) Review until satisfied with results.

Shalom,
Eric

Episode 05: "The Shepherds" (+)

Had a silly little weekend after my birthday passed. It was another OSA trip, this time to a kind of nature reserve with an emphasis on shepherding sheep.

The reserve itself was beautiful. Green hills, pretty flowers, the usual surprise beauty Israel always seems to have up its sleeve.

Alyssa, Charise and I.

We played a small competitive game in which our two groups had to try to best each other in herding sheep around a small field with the lowest time. It was pretty ridiculous stuff, and a great way to spend a sunny day.




Really not much else to report about it. Great weather, great sights, good times all around.

Shalom,
Eric

Episode 04: "The Perfect Day" (+)

At midnight on my birthday, all four of my new flatmates showed up at my room door with a chocolate cake and sang me "Happy Birthday." The two Amandas, Daniel and Rebecca--people I hardly knew at all so far--had taken the time to buy me a cake and make my birthday special from minute one. I couldn't believe how warm and compassionate they were, and their gesture went such a long way towards making me feel at home with them.

Throughout the day I got e-mails, Facebook messages, and calls from friends and family, everyone wishing me a great birthday. One of the longer calls was from my mom, who patched me through to Grandma and Poppy. It felt so, so good to hear from all of them--especially with what positive things they had to say.

Right after that call, I went to the supermarket to buy food for making dinner. The idea was to do a reversal of the usual birthday shenanigans, expecting and/or hoping my friends would do something nice for me on my day or whatever. Following suit from a friend I had met back in New York, I was looking to use my birthday to show my friends I appreciated having them around to celebrate it with me. So cooking for my buddies was the name of the game.

Val volunteered his place for me to make dinner. He gave me a heads up that his roommate was having four friends over, and was wondering if it was cool for them to join us. I hesitated due to my limited food supply and limited cooking skills, but Val assured me that these new guys would be bringing food of their own, so I gave the green light with some relief.

When I arrived at Val's place, he'd already decorated the room with balloons. And his girlfriend, Avital, came over and helped him put on the finishing touches to everything. All of their effort for my birthday made me feel pretty damn happy.

Avital's special balloon for me.

And it's flip side.

I started hustling on the quesadillas, burning a few as I went. Everyone was pretty gracious about it, though. Threw on some peas, carrots and rice, while Val's roommate Fabiana helped me with pasta. Meanwhile, her friends had arrived, bringing a grand total of two snack food bags as their contribution. As in two bags. Of snack food. Through some miracle though, there was enough real food for everyone. Ridiculous.

My sorry attempt at a quesadilla on the left.
But potential for future meat on the right.

Didn't screw up too bad on this dish, though.

These aren't my hands.

By the time everyone had come, it was about ten people in chilling in the living room, and I was churning out plate after plate. At one point, though, my activity at the stove got stopped cold. Avital turned off the lights and she and Val brought in a chocolate cake with candles on it, singing me a happy birthday. I could not have been more touched.

Genuinely surprised and thankful.

The rest of the party was chill and enjoyable. The new guys were friendly and talkative, everyone was complimenting the food, and people were pretty smiley all around. It was a great time. Here's pretty much everyone who was there, minus Avital and Val.

Full house of cool folks.

Afterward, took the pals out to see the movie Cloverfield. The crew included Daniel (my new roommate in the green shirt up there), Avital, Val, and Jeremy. The movie was everything I was expecting, and a perfect way to make my birthday shine.

Thanks for producing this one, J.J. Abrams.

You somehow transformed terrifying pseudo-9/11
imagery into a birthday gift.

And whaddya know--cooking for my buds and taking them out to a movie felt really good. I guess the only other thing I could compare it to was my Santa-served Christmas. Felt like growing up a little bit. Although no promises on a year-to-year extravaganza or anything when I come home. Being "mature" on my birthday was really expensive.

Anyway. The next day I received holiday packages from friends back home (and later I received cards from family) which put my feel-good factor over the top. The amount of love I received from everyone had me on top of the world.

Thank you all for that.

Shalom,
Eric