It's almost 3:00am and I'm still up. I think it's the Harry Potter curse. That whole "staying up all night and sleeping it off all day" thing I did this weekend has messed with my sleep schedule, and it sucks. The other sleep-related problem is that when I do sleep, I have terrible nightmares. This, I attribute to reading "O Jerusalem," which is a rather graphic account of the Israel War of Independence. My nightmares tend to center around trying to shoot at invincible people who, five feet away from me, are calmly assembling a mine that I know is going to rip my limbs off; also there's a lot of running through abandoned homes and factories trying to find a hiding place before the invincible people come to kill me. I've started switching to lighter reading before bedtime - Ayun Halliday usually does the trick - but so far, no good.

Stay tuned this week for more Israel excerpts. Coming up, there's the Masada debaucle, Ein Gedi & the Dead Sea, and most excitingly - Jerusalem!!

This morning we checked out of the kibbutz and went to Haifa. We very briefly saw the B'Hai Gardens from above, and then split off into two groups (our tour group is made up of two synagogues: Alexandria's Beth El Hebrew, and Beth El, from Washington state). The Beth El Hebrew group (my group) went to see a junior high/high school for Israel's progressive Judaism movement (similar to American reform). Apparently the Jewish Federation of Greater Washington (D.C.) has some sort of ties to the school, and one of the members of our group was representing the Federation, so there you have it. It was a neat school. They had one room that's dedicated to memorializing students/alums who had died, and one of the girls was my sister's age (and died in 2003). It was really sad, and it made me miss my sister (who is NOT dead, and I therefore have no excuse for not speaking with her more frequently...). Haifa was targeted last summer during the war, and the kids who were at the school for summer camp were herded down to a subterranean parking garage avoid the rockets. The woman who was representing the Federation not only wanted to go see the parking garage, but proceeded to photograph it once we were down there. It looked just like a parking garage. With cars and all. The lady was sort of nutty (she's the one who made an ass out of herself at the IDF soldier dinner).

Our next destination was Ceasarea. It's all ruins now (and rebuilt tourist museums), but it used to be a sort of marina that Herod built. He built a whole boardwalky-type thing out into the Mediterranean, using cement blocks to anchor it all down. Needless to say, it didn't last long, thanks to the water and the weather. You can't really see any of the ruins of the marina anymore, but there's an old amphitheater and a chariot racetrack/gladiator pit.*

Our final stop of the night was a Bedouin ranch near Adar, in the Judean desert (south of Jerusalem). Although I had anticipated the camel ride for months, it turns out that riding camels is completely not fun. They're mean, bitey, kicky animals. The dinner was served in a giant tent, and we got to sit on cushions on the floor and eat with our hands. I had a kabob that I thought was chicken, but which was in fact goat. After dinner there was a short coffee/music presentation, and then bedtime. Before the trip, the trip organizers had sent around an email asking who wanted to stay in a hotel, and who wanted to "camp" in "tents" at the Bedouin ranch. Adam and I signed up for the camping. Much to our chagrin, upon arriving at the ranch, we realized it was not "camping" in the sense of "everyone gets a tent." No, they just had gigundo tents with mats spread out on the ground, and the ranch was swarming with Birthright kids. On my way to the bathroom, a girl who appeared to be about 16 caught up with me and asked me if I was in a Birthright group. I said that I wasn't, and that my husband and I were on a trip with our synagogue. She invited me to come check out her tent later, as they had "drum circles" and "lots of young couples." At this point, I decided I did not want to stay at the ranch. Not only did I not want to sleep on a dirty mat on the ground with hordes of teenagers, I also wanted to actually get some sleep - the next day we were getting up at 3:00am for a hike up Masada. Luckily, Adam and I were able to get a hotel room with the rest of the group (only the kids were staying on the range, and one poor dad).

*[See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caesarea_Maritima] [also, when I googled this place to see how to spell it, I found out that Keren Ann, a musician I like, was born in the modern town of Ceasarea. This came as a surprise to me, as I thought she was French.]

Today was the first bad day I've had since getting here. First thing in the morning, we went to the Tel Dan Nature Reserve for a nature "hike." It started okay because it was surprisingly cool & overcast. Slowly but surely, however, the sun came out, and it got super hot out. The lack of sleep started to catch up with me, and combined with the heat I was in a pretty surly mood. Then, I discovered someone had planted "Doobie" in my purse. "Doobie" is apparently Phillip's (self-described) "innovative" way of tourguiding mixed groups of adults and children. In short, Doobie is a small stuffed bear that gets passed around the group members like a covert hot potato. No one wants to be stuck with Doobie, because every day, when we're on the bus, Phillip will randomly announce "it's Doooobie time," and whoever finds the bear in his or her bag has to go to the front of the bus and "entertain" everyone - songs, jokes, whatever. Anyway, I was already in a bad mood, and the discovery of Doobie in my purse irritated me further. The most annoying of the three thirteen year old boys had Doobie last, so I assumed he had been the Doobie-passer. Adam and I instantly started plotting about how to pass on Doobie again before that dreaded call to "Doobie time." Soon after the Doobie discovery, one of the kids thwacked me hard in the leg with a water bottle while horsing around with the other kids, and it made me even grumpier. I was sooorta mean to him, and I feel a little bad. Just a little. Oh, and also, some of the slower members of the group who were trailing well behind got all uppity at Adam for not leaving some indication of which way the group was heading at fork in the path. Do note that it wasn't Adam's job to keep everyone rounded up, nor was he the last person in the regularly-paced-walkers group. Basically, Tel Dan was a bust. Which is a shame, because I can see how it would be quite pretty and naturey there, if you weren't in a deep hole of moodiness.

Our next stop was the Gadot Lookout. Adam and I dawdled in exiting the bus, as we had selected our Doobie target and wanted to pass him along undetected. The mother of the boy who I had sniped at for thwacking me was also dawdling, so finally we just passed Doobie off as quietly as possible and exited the bus.* During the Six Day War in 1967, the Gadot Lookout was a Syrian post, and there are still old bunkers and unexploded landmines everywhere. It was sort of an eerie place, in part due to the stark war memorial jutting out of the hilltop.





We went to the Golan Heights Winery next, and got a short tour led by the cutest little old Orthodox man. He was very elfish, with a squeaky little voice and heavy accent. The wine was really delightful; my favorite was a white wine called Gerschmikensomething. With an umlaut somewhere. After the wine tasting, we headed up to Mount Bental, which is one of the northermost points of Israel. It had been an Israeli fortification in (I believe) the Yom Kippur War in 1973. From it, you can see the Syrian border and Mt. Hermon (which Phillip pronounced "jamon," which is the Spanish word for "ham").

As if the day had not yet been long enough, our next destination was the site of a 1997 helicopter crash that killed 74(?) IDF soldiers and partially led to Israel's decision to pull out of southern Lebanon after 18(?) years of occupation. Our temporary "tour guide," Kobe, was a (retired?) IDF solider (colonel?), and he talked a lot about what a tragedy the crash had been - apparently two Israeli helicopters crashed into each other and it had something to do with going to Lebanon.**

Our final destination was to have dinner at the base of Mt. Hermon with some IDF soldiers. Which was a great idea, except our soldier didn't speak English, so Tali had to sit with us and translate. She didn't seem all that pleased about it, especially since one of the people at our table kept asking the stupidest, most patronizing questions, always directed them at the soldier and speaking loudly, slowly, and with hand gestures, as though that was a better way of communicating than using a translator.

*[Non-journal note: The woman's name is Patty, and it turns out that the reason she was dawdling behind on the bus was because she had been the one to put Doobie in my bag, and didn't want to be re-Doobied. I felt dumb for being paranoid that she was going to beat me up for being mean to her son, especially because she ended up being quite nice, and also an Italian & convert.]

** [See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1997_Israeli_helicopter_disaster]

After reading through the night, I fell asleep on the couch around 6:00am, and then woke up at 7:00 to shuffle to the bedroom, where I instanty passed out again. Adam woke me up at noon, and by 3:00pm I was DONE! All I will say for now is that when movie time comes around, it's gonna be a long one.

As I mentioned earlier, Adam and I went to the Harry Potter festival in Old Town last night. One of the bookstores had organized a scavenger hunt at various stores on King Street (actually, a series of activities). As each store was pretty packed, Adam and I opted to visit the Apothercary Museum-turned-Herbology/Potions class, and the "wand-making" at the Christmas Attic-turned-Yule Ball Supply Store.





As was to be expected, we saw plenty of costumed people & dogs, and lots of price gouging.



All in all, it was a nice night.

It's 4:45am, and I'm awake. Why, you ask? I don't know. I want to sleep...I'm tired...but it's not happening. I blame Harry Potter.

Old Town did a Harry Potter night last night, from 8-midnight...it was fun, more on that (with photos!) soon. I started reading the book when I got home around 12:30. I tried to stop around 2, but couldn't sleep. So, I tried to stop again at 4. I laid in bed for 45 minutes, tossing and turning, and now I'm up again. It's not even the book that's got me all antsy (though it's pretty freakin awesome so far), I'm just generally agitated. School is getting closer and it's making me seriously fussy.

[I'm running out of steam here...six days to go]

Today was pretty restful - it's the first time I've really apreciated Shabbat. We slept until 8 (!) and went to my first Saturday morning service. Afterwards, we took a tour of the kibbutz. The coolest thing we saw was a playground full of discarded household objects - everything from computer monitors to mattresses to car seats. I think I am a big fan of the kibbutz way of life - everything's communal and feels all organic & nature-y. Actually, I don't think kibbutzes are entirely like that anymore; even though they were founded based on Marxist ideals, now most of them are pretty commercialized. There's a museum on the kibbutz where we saw a 2,000 year old fishing-type boat. Some people think Jesus & his disciples rode in the boat (I don't know how they all fit, though, it was pretty small). Hence the name of the boat: Jesus Boat.

After the tour, we met with Phillip's wife to discuss "women's issues" in Israel, but it was much less interesting than I thought it would be. All she really talked about was how to reach out to Orthodox women suffering from domestic abuse. Which is interesting, but I was hoping for more of a range of topics over the course of the 1 hour talk. After that was lunch and napping. Around 6:00, we went to a bar/bat mitzvah of two of the kids on the trip. I was a little irritated about it, because it was on the itinerary and therefore felt mandatory. These kids are already getting a party at home, but still the whole group (mostly people who had not even met the kids until the trip) has to go and sit through a mind-numbing reading, by each child, of a Torah portion.* The way I see it, bar/bat mitzvahs are meant to be shared with friends and family. Not forced on unsuspecting strangers.

After dinner, we took a "cruise" on the Sea of Galilee/Lake Tiberias/The Kinneret (all the same body of water) and ended up in Tiberias, which was a spring-breaky type beach town. Adam and I took a taxi over to Maimonides' tomb, which we viewed from our respective sides.



Tomorrow we're heading up to the Golan Heights, which got pounded last summer. I shouldn't be nervous but I sort of am.

* [non-journal note: The mother of these children was really sort of nuts. She dressed her 11-year old daughter in the skimpiest of clothes/bathing suits. The daughter, clearly brainwashed, bossily told Adam to sit up straight at dinner, because her mother said so (or something to that effect). I also saw the daughter eating peas, without being asked to. Adam asked her what she would be doing at home for her bat mitzvah, and she replied, snottily, "we're going to have a party, and it's going to be all about me. My mom said I could have WHATEVER I want." She and her mother were both hardcore complainers whenever we were on an excursion they deemed unnecessary. I had the misfortune of sitting next to each of them exactly once, and getting an earful of just how indignant they were over (1) the heat, (2) Phillip's explanations of what we were seeing, (3) just how very boring this all was. At some point, they just stopped coming to excursions, showing up at dinner boasting about what a wonderful day they had, napping and eating "whenever they wanted."]