Everything Closes on Shabbat

I landed in Israel after dark on Friday night, meaning I had arrived at the beginning of Shabbat. Much of the country closes down on Shabbat, including public transportation and many stores. This wasn’t a problem for me-my friend Scott was at the airport waiting to pick me up. But it was certainly a reminder that I had arrived in a country even more religious than the one I had temporarily left behind.

            Scott and I headed over to his friend’s Shabbat dinner, where a group of his Frisbee friends were still gathered. My family celebrated Shabbat when I was growing up, but it has been years since it was a normal part of my week. We had arrived too late for any of the religious part (if it even took place) but were just in time for post-dinner chilling and some wine. No complaints here. Scott is a big Ultimate Frisbee player and he and his friends had just finished working at a camp for Arab and Israeli kids to come together to play Ultimate. As far as I understand it, Ultimate is a self-refereed sport, and the idea is that conflict resolution on the playing field has the potential to expand to larger reconciliation between the two groups.

            The next few days were spent exploring Israel’s major cities, Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Our first stop was the Jerusalem “shook” or market. The shook is an incredible hybrid of organized American stores and chaotic Cameroonian markets. All of the food is divided into small stores off a central pathway, and each store is distinct and organized. Shopkeepers are eager to draw potential customers towards their products, and don’t hesitate to use the outdoor space as additional display. We bought a kilogram of the best grapes I’ve eaten in the past two years, and I was happy as a clam. But the best was yet to come-we continued on and found a man selling cream cheese and smoked salmon. One of Scott’s friends had picked up a few dozen bagels on his way over, so we took our purchases and made a picnic breakfast in a nearby park. I could have left right after breakfast and the trip would have already been worth it.

            We spent that afternoon wandering around Jerusalem’s Old City. It was far too hot to be outside for too long; I was grateful to be making a return trip and thus free to pass on many of the “must-see” sights located in direct sunlight. We passed numerous tour groups struggling in the afternoon heat, including one decked out entirely in matching pagne (West African fabric, potentially the world’s least breathable material).

            Our search for a cooler spot took us to the stone church where Jesus allegedly ascended to heaven. My Birthright trip had (somehow) missed this particular site during my last visit, so this was a new landmark for me. And it was an incredible site to see-apparently multiple sects of Christianity had tried to claim the church as their own, but finally agreed to share it and each decorate their own small sections according to their own traditions. Some rooms are ornate and gilded, while others are more reserved and “traditional”. In a city (and country) typically thought of as home to Jews and Muslims, it was an important reminder of how many groups can claim the land for religious reasons.

The frisbee was the only thing we never left behind.

            Having gotten a short-term fill Jerusalem’s history, we headed to Tel Aviv the following day to appreciate the attractions of a more modern city. Between an afternoon on the Mediterranean beach, happy hour with mango margaritas, Japanese food on a outdoor patio, and a parking payment system so complicated you need a smartphone to navigate it, I was thoroughly reminded how wonderful life in a cosmopolitan city can be. 

            One of my goals for my time in Israel was to refresh my long-dormant SCUBA diving skills and get back underwater. Scott and I had both gotten certified in college, but he hadn’t been diving since our certification dives in that cold Minnesotan lake. He was game to strap on a tank again, so we signed up for a refresher dive course off the beach in Tel Aviv. When they learned how long it had been since we had been diving (nearly three years for me, five for Scott) and where we had gotten certified, the team at the dive shop had a hard time taking us seriously. But we both remembered our skills and were soon out in the water, where we saw a few schools of fish and even a seahorse!

            My cousin Amir and his family coincidentally live in a kibbutz just across the highway from  Scott and I spent an evening having a picnic with Amir and his family at the kibbutz’s community pool, and Scott and Amir discussed hosting a cross-community children’s event centered on Frisbee. More than just more than just a highway divides the two towns; they have history, language, and culture to overcome. But it sounds like some community integration programs have already begun, and there is definitely the potential for a bright future ahead.

the town where Scott lives. The two towns are no more that 15 minutes away from each other, but have wildly different feels to them. Amir’s kibbutz is home to Hebrew-speaking Jews and almost has the feel of a socialist commune; whereas the main language in Scott’s town is Arabic and the plethora of speed bumps do little to slow down the young people racing their cars through the streets.

            We spent the last part of the week taking a mini-road trip up to the northern part of the country. To break up the three-hour drive (Israel is so small!), we decided to stop in the city of Haifa to visit the Baha’i Gardens, of which I had never previously heard. But as soon as we entered (after passing the modesty dress code check) I was blown away. The gardens are set on the world headquarters of the Baha'i faith and include a 19-level terraced garden and shrine to the Bab, a Baha'i prophet. We inadvertently arrived just in time for the daily English-language tour and learned about the history of the Baha'i faith while enjoying the incredible view. It was fascinating, beautiful, and stiflingly hot. We also learned that although Israel is the homeland for the Baha'i faith (or perhaps because it is), its adherents are not allowed to make Israel their personal home.

The Baha'i faith values symmetry as part of beauty. I was
blown away!

            During my last two nights I had two very distinct reunions-first on my family’s kibbutz for Shabbat, then in Jerusalem with a couple of Cameroon RPCVs. On Shabbat we said the traditional prayers, ate my first challah (Jewish braided bread) in two years, and enjoyed time with some far-away family. But the next night was special in an entirely different way, when we met up with two Returned Volunteers currently living in Cameroon. I had overlapped with one of them, but the other was a Frisbee friend of Scott’s that I had never met-just another example of what a small world we live in. Just as we were about to order our pizzas, power went out in the entire neighborhood. The two of them swore that this was a rare occurrence in Jerusalem, but we all had a good laugh about it. We might have left Cameroon, but it was enough of a reminder that we’re never really in control.