Ma Nishma

June 14, 2009:
I am sitting in a coffee shop in the busy and energetic Tel Aviv. It is almost 8:00 pm and its full. They are playing Elvis. The waiter speaks ok Hebrew but perfect English. The three women next to me are arguing, their Hebrew forming sentences that don't end, so they speak over each other. I can hear the noise on Dizengoff; vespas flying by, the breeze of the bus, and of course the consistant honking of the taxis. I am trying to write of my experiences here in Israel, but nothing specific comes to mind.

What I will write won't correctly paint the picture.

You can't smell the spice shop in th old city, or the shwarma roasting in Tiberius, or taste of military cornflakes bathed in chocolate milk first thing in the morning. The sound of the rush of soldiers getting home on a Thursday afternoon, the emotional sight of the Western Wall as you walk towards it as the sun is getting low.

I can tell you I walked the entire outside perimeter of the Old City in Jerusalem, randomly walking past churches and holy sites, gazing at the historic walls that enclose a city that is thousands of years old and where the Arab, Jewish, Christian and Armenian quarters blend into eachother. I can't describe the cacophony of vendors shouting, the feel of feet gliding on the smooth and slippery Jerusalem stone side streets, the sight of the sun glowing off the dome of the rock, the taste of fresh squeezed orange juice bought from a Moraccan man who told me his life story, with his 5 year old son, the youngest of 8 waking up from a nap next to me.

I can tell you that I hiked in the desert, swam in the dead sea and walked through the ancient remains of a city build by Herod the Great. But the feeling on your skin that the dead sea leaves behind, the sound of a waterfall in the middle of the desert, the pride you feel after you see how far up you hiked, those are memories.I can tell you stories, but I can't describe the memories. The images, the smells, the feelings that this place instills in me. People come here for different reasons. Some are religious, some have family here, others are Zionist, and most are here for reasons that can't quite be explained. It is a beautiful, magical and mysterious place. And I just found out my waiter is from Detroit. Now, that is truly Israel :)