Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Tiyul Tzafon: Day Four: Connecting with Communities in Isreal

14 May 2012
Druze Community

We had stayed at a hostel that night that was really confusing in the dark, and sometimes even in the light. Needless to say, we all spent a good few hours getting lost in the winding roads between the chaletes, and getting locked out side at least three times.

Breakfast consisted of fake fruitloops, much to my disappointment, because all I want in the whole world is legit Fruit Loops.

Emily ran a Ma'amad, and Tara ran a peulah where we had to come up with our own community and make up all the rules and regulations to be a part of our new community. We also learnt a little bit about the druze. As much as one could, what with them being a secret religion and whatnot.
I fell asleep through the movie about the Syrian Bride, that is, coincidentally called 'The Syrian Bride', and only really became fully concious after we had lunch later that day. Falafel and pitah. So goooooooood.

There was a little boy, just casually walking by, he was no taller than your knee, but no less inquisitive about the world. On the pavement, there lay a scrawny Golden Retriever. He had nearly been run over just moments before, and the little boy was hugging him and petting him, like he had just found his long lost best friend. In that moment my Tiyul was made, because its the littlest things, that people take for granted that really matter in the world.

Water was gushing from the pipe that hung over our heads. It was old and rusted from the long years it had stood there, constantly gushing water with no way to stem the flow. We all gathered around it, hot and slightly out of breath from the steep hike up the mountain. It hadn't been a very long hike, but our shoes were soaked with water and it had already been a long day. The rush of the water as it left the pipe, flew through the air and landed with a crash on the rocks below, where a pool was formed, was deafening and no one heard my screams as I slipped and nearly fell to my death. With only a few scratches and a bruise or two I managed to survive my the near death experiences of the hike. The 9 previous ones had all been in the first few steps, when I fell, on my butt, into the river. 
The walk back down the waterfall, was ice-y and slippery, making it hard to hold onto the rocks, but we made it down eventually to a packet of Bamba and another bus ride, and a well deserved nap.

We ate dinner and Tara told our fortunes, before I ran a classic chocolate peulah for the rest of the group. It turns out Naomi will die in 6 years and I'll travel a lot, but possibly have multiple marriages or something along those lines.
Ha! A pun.