Los Angeles
Strange how imprecise memory can be. Or was it too think I'd remember accurately 20 years later?
What I recalled about Ein Gedi was that the verdant water fall was only a short hike in from the entrance area. I didn't remember that the oasis includes actually several water falls, each varying height, each falling into different pools with different depths. The river drops through 4 levels, and the pool I remembered, the one Vicki and I enjoyed the most when we visited on our honeymoon, was actually the top-most pool.
Saul and I never made it to the top pool. Saul's interest in the whole excursion could be described best as tolerant, as in, he was slumming to go along with me only because I insisted. When we made it to the next-to-the last falls I found what I was looking for. The falls descended into a somewhat wide pool clearly deep enough for a swim, and there were no other people around save two women who were preparing to leave. I immediately pulled off my shirt, shoes and socks and stepped into the water. It was more than cool -- icy. But the chill only beckoned me further. I dove in.
Instantly I felt the frigid water's delicious intensity. I popped my head up and headed across the pool towards the waterfall. I was going all the way -- intent on letting the stream cascade over me. I swam back towards Saul and the mini rock beach on which he sat. I had to go back for more -- one more paddle to the waterfall, a moment with it pouring over me, and then back to the rocks. Now I pulled myself out of the water and found a rock to sit on so I could dry off.
"This made the day for me, Saul. It completed it." I felt totally revived, energized. And then Saul could not resist. He rolled his pants above his ankles, pulled off his shoes and socks, and waded in. I found intense gratification in his 'monkey see, monkey do' response.
Our hike back to our rental car proved quicker than the hike up. As we drove away, I didn't know how to articulate to Saul what it meant for me to be able to dive in as I did. It had something to do with diving in to Israel, totally submersing myself in the beauty and wonders it has to offer. It probably has something to do with the many trips Vicki and I have made to Tassajara, and particularly the fondness we've developed for the swimming holes along the creek we always hike there. We return to Tassajara each year for the refreshment and relaxation we find in our favorite, isolated spots.
Maybe it has something to do with my rowing on the Yarkon, too. Ein Gedi demonstrated another way I could plug in to Israel my way. Whether in a single scull out of the Daniele Rowing Center or under a waterfall, I found on this trip different ways I can do what I love to do in Israel. This is what, most of all, will last in my memory.
Showing posts with label Ein Gedi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ein Gedi. Show all posts
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Masada
Los Angeles
Just because I'm home now doesn't mean the ripples and reflections from the trip end. Our last days consisted of Shabbat in Hashmonean, Masada and Ein Gedi, and my visits and meetings at Yad Vashem.
Saul kicked my tush at Masada. Meaning, he took one look at the cable car, a tiny bucket dangling from two threads, and remembered that his friend Harel advised him to climb the snake path, and told me that's how he wanted to get to the top. Which generally is fine with me, because my self-flattery suggests I am in good shape and can handle any challenge. Hell, maybe we should even start jogging as the commando units do on the morning of their graduations...
Cut to 10 minutes later. "Gee Dad, you're really sweating. Breath through your nose more so the air doesn't dry out your throat."
Cut to 10 minutes later, maybe a bit more than 1/2 way up. "Saul (pant, pant), it's time for a 5 minute (pant, pant) rest."
I tried to argue that I was carrying the pack, and that made me hotter... I asked Saul to carry it for the last quarter of the route. We rested another few minutes when we got to the top, but the key is we made it. And I resolved to fix my rowing machine and get back into shape the minute we got home. (Which I am doing, but that is another story.)
At the top Saul and I opted out of the audio guide. Audio Tours always make me feel guilty. They provide far more information than I can ever recall. Yet if I don't get them I feel I am missing out on the opportunity to get the inside story. We self-toured. Not until I met with Yehudit Inbar, Yad Vashem Museum Director, did I have my guilt assuaged. But that is for another posting.
As it was at Beit Shean, the self-tour was a great experience. Again, Saul and I guided each other. I shared with him what I remembered from previous visits. He asked questions that forced us to investigate the site together. Questions such as, when we looked at the rough walls of the synagogue, 'Were the walls this rough when it was in use?'
Cut to the upper palace, where we could see the remains of tiled floors and plastered walls. Or the bath houses, where we could see the creature comforts installed into the rooms.
Perhaps the most interesting exhibit was the interactive model showing how Herod installed numerous systems to trap and save water. Saul took charge, pouring water over the leaden model and watching how it was trapped in gutters and channeled to cisterns.
We moved to the northern palace, Herod's summer home, built below and in the shade of the summit. A very boisterous Israeli group overwhelmed us, both with their numbers and their noise. It reminded Saul too much of the annoying kids on the bus ride from the Malcha mall. Time to descend.
I wasn't prepared for Saul's response: let's take the cable car. Which was fine by me. I was ready for the cardio challenge of the downward climb, but knew it would be even more punishing on my knees.
As we descended quickly (3 minutes from top to bottom), I watched the fortress city recede above me. I learned that residents there even grew crops; with proper water management, the community had significant levels of self-sufficiency. Interestingly, Masada's martyred ghosts did not call out to me at any point during our visit. I thought about them, recalling how I first learned of Masada through a feature film treatment a friend of my parents' once wrote. But I wasn't affected by the tremendous self-sacrifice that occurred.
I think Sderot and Operation Cast Lead ("OCL") had something to do with it. The mood in Israel was not one of sacrifice and victimization. Maybe I couldn't dwell on sacrifice as the ultimate Jewish resistance, because Israel freed us from that trap. I guarantee that conclusion was not on the audio guide.
Just because I'm home now doesn't mean the ripples and reflections from the trip end. Our last days consisted of Shabbat in Hashmonean, Masada and Ein Gedi, and my visits and meetings at Yad Vashem.
Saul kicked my tush at Masada. Meaning, he took one look at the cable car, a tiny bucket dangling from two threads, and remembered that his friend Harel advised him to climb the snake path, and told me that's how he wanted to get to the top. Which generally is fine with me, because my self-flattery suggests I am in good shape and can handle any challenge. Hell, maybe we should even start jogging as the commando units do on the morning of their graduations...
Cut to 10 minutes later. "Gee Dad, you're really sweating. Breath through your nose more so the air doesn't dry out your throat."
Cut to 10 minutes later, maybe a bit more than 1/2 way up. "Saul (pant, pant), it's time for a 5 minute (pant, pant) rest."
I tried to argue that I was carrying the pack, and that made me hotter... I asked Saul to carry it for the last quarter of the route. We rested another few minutes when we got to the top, but the key is we made it. And I resolved to fix my rowing machine and get back into shape the minute we got home. (Which I am doing, but that is another story.)
At the top Saul and I opted out of the audio guide. Audio Tours always make me feel guilty. They provide far more information than I can ever recall. Yet if I don't get them I feel I am missing out on the opportunity to get the inside story. We self-toured. Not until I met with Yehudit Inbar, Yad Vashem Museum Director, did I have my guilt assuaged. But that is for another posting.
As it was at Beit Shean, the self-tour was a great experience. Again, Saul and I guided each other. I shared with him what I remembered from previous visits. He asked questions that forced us to investigate the site together. Questions such as, when we looked at the rough walls of the synagogue, 'Were the walls this rough when it was in use?'
Cut to the upper palace, where we could see the remains of tiled floors and plastered walls. Or the bath houses, where we could see the creature comforts installed into the rooms.
Perhaps the most interesting exhibit was the interactive model showing how Herod installed numerous systems to trap and save water. Saul took charge, pouring water over the leaden model and watching how it was trapped in gutters and channeled to cisterns.
We moved to the northern palace, Herod's summer home, built below and in the shade of the summit. A very boisterous Israeli group overwhelmed us, both with their numbers and their noise. It reminded Saul too much of the annoying kids on the bus ride from the Malcha mall. Time to descend.
I wasn't prepared for Saul's response: let's take the cable car. Which was fine by me. I was ready for the cardio challenge of the downward climb, but knew it would be even more punishing on my knees.
As we descended quickly (3 minutes from top to bottom), I watched the fortress city recede above me. I learned that residents there even grew crops; with proper water management, the community had significant levels of self-sufficiency. Interestingly, Masada's martyred ghosts did not call out to me at any point during our visit. I thought about them, recalling how I first learned of Masada through a feature film treatment a friend of my parents' once wrote. But I wasn't affected by the tremendous self-sacrifice that occurred.
I think Sderot and Operation Cast Lead ("OCL") had something to do with it. The mood in Israel was not one of sacrifice and victimization. Maybe I couldn't dwell on sacrifice as the ultimate Jewish resistance, because Israel freed us from that trap. I guarantee that conclusion was not on the audio guide.
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