My Jerusalem Birthday and The World's Largest Plate of Hummus

Day 7: Yom Zayin

“Ha yom yom huledet, ha yom yom huledet, ha yom yom huledet shel Sarah…” Tami, Shalom, and Galila serenaded me in the kitchen when I went to get breakfast. Today, I turned 22 years old on the 22nd of June, a very luck birthday according to my superstitious grandmother. Instead of cake and candles, I got to do something much cooler; go to Jerusalem and put my birthday wish in the Western Wall.

When we first arrived, I noticed it was not the Jerusalem I remembered from my last trip. So much had been built, renovated, and cleaned up, that it felt like a new city. I remembered the orthodox jews, the crowded shouk, and the walls of the city. Now there were upscale shopping malls, a brand new train system, and world-class hotels and restaurants. It was an interesting juxtaposition of ancient and modern.

We walked down a street that seemed like one, big, extended gift shop, and arrived at the security checkpoint at the entrance of the Western Wall. After passing through the metal detectors, I observed a woman at the wall praying from an ipad application for the siddur. We had no time to stop and pray ourselves, because we were booked for a tour of the underground tunnels excavated beneath the wall. The tour was all in Hebrew, so my understanding of it was filtered through Don. The Western Wall is the last remaining structure from the second temple, the holiest place for Jews, which was destroyed 2,000 years ago. Since then, the Muslim quarter of Jerusalem was built literally on top of this site. In the tunnels underground, we followed the length of the wall and could look up and see in the layers of dirt how buildings were constructed on top of the ruins. It was a fascinating tour, and I got to tuck a small prayer written on a piece of paper into the cracks of the giant stones in the subterranean wall.

After exiting the refreshingly cool tunnels into the searing heat, I hopped in a cab with Don to go to Ben Yehuda street. I planned to meet up with Kady, my friend from college, in this area of Jerusalem best know for it’s excellent shopping, restaurants, and bar scene. We sat in a small café and ordered salads while someone’s pet husky wandered around under the tables, panting in the heat. The dogs and cats in Israel are almost never on leashes, and are allowed to roam unsupervised in the streets. The animals always look a bit mangy and hungry. When I spoke to Don’s uncle Nissim about my dog Toby, he seemed shocked that we let him live indoors. “My dog has never in his life set foot in my house” he said. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable a husky must feel kept outdoors in this weather, though.

After sunset, we met up with Don’s family and walked back to the old city for a light show. Once a summer, abstract light instillations are put all over the city, with routes of different colors weaving in and out of the ancient walled pathways. After passing under some Chihulyesque sculptures of light, we were led to an alcove where a band was playing and a laser show was projecting on the stone walls. We stopped and listened for a while, totally transported by the incredible visuals. It was definitely a birthday to remember.

Day 8: Yom Chet

With the morning to spend in Jerusalem, we set out on foot back to Ben Yehuda Street. There were street musicians, tourists, Ultra-Orthodox, and secular Jews, it was a melting pot of cultures and religions. Don and I went exploring on our own and found the building of the Israeli nature conservancy, which looked like a castle. It had a beautiful garden in the courtyard, a shady oasis, which was a welcomed discovery in the hottest part of the day.

In a small side street, we found a shop selling sabbich, a dish Don has been raving about since we arrived in Israel. It consists of a fresh pita stuffed with Israeli salad, grilled eggplant, hard-boiled eggs, and tahini. Don and I split one, since we already gorged ourselves on the impressive breakfast buffet at the hotel.

After check out time, we piled back into the rental cars and drove to a lookout point. We got lost on the way in an area called The German Colony, which looked like a collection of charming French countryside villas and cafes. I would really like to return and explore that area more, because it had a totally different vibe than the rest of Jerusalem.

We eventually found our way and stopped on the top of a mountain where we could see all of the sprawling neighborhoods of Jerusalem. There is a law here, that all buildings must be constructed from Jerusalem stone, to keep the character of the ancient times. This dusty beige stone makes the city look like a series of sand castles from afar. At sunset, everything glows a golden yellow, earning the nickname “Jerusalem of Gold”.

Next on the agenda was Mt. Herzl, a memorial cemetery for many of the war heroes and founders of Israel. Unfortunately, we arrived five minutes after the gates were locked. Instead, we decided to stop in Abu Gosh, for what was rumored to be the best hummus in the country. It was difficult to find parking for the Abu Gosh Restaurant, whose lot was filled with some of the fanciest cars we had seen since yet- a Lexus, Mercedes, and BMW.

Behind the host stand, there hung an autographed poster of the blonde pop phenomenon, Justin Bieber. I pointed to the poster and the host confirmed, yes, Justin Bieber ate here. This place must really have some good hummus, I thought. We ordered the works; salads, pita, hummus, tahini, kebabs, and a pitcher of lemonade. I noticed that our placemats proudly displayed “Abu Gosh: Home of The Guinness Book of World Record’s Largest Plate of Hummus”. Low and behold, there was a photo of an entire village standing around a swimming pool sized plate of hummus. I soon found out who funded that endeavor, and why there were so many nice cars parked outside, when the owner came over to chat with us. Apparently his family in Illinois won the American lottery and gave him the money to open the restaurant.

The food soon arrived, and everything tasted fresh and delicious. It’s hard to say if it’s the best hummus in Israel, but it was pretty darn good. We returned to Tel Mond an hour later, just to be fed again by Tami. I feel like all we do on this trip is eat, but I’m ok with that plan.

Choco-be-sakit and Tali's Wedding

Day Five: Yom Hay

I must dedicate the first part of this entry to two of my favorite Israeli beverages – choco-be-sakit and ice café. Choco-be-sakit is a bit of a novelty because of it’s packaging. It is chocolate milk in a bag. Why they chose to do this, I’m not sure, because you open the bag by biting the corner off with your teeth and then sucking out the drink. There is no way to set a half finished bag of chocolate milk down on a table without it spilling everywhere. The chocolate milk itself tastes heavenly though. Tami informed us that they are starting to phase out the bag packaging, and it’s getting harder to find in stores. This news made Don very sad, so we stocked the fridge with as many choc-be-sakits as we could fit.

My other drink obsession, ice café, is essentially an Israeli frappuccino. Typically served from a slurpee machine, ice café is amazingly refreshing in the blistering heat. I can’t explain why it tastes so much better than a Starbucks drink, but it just does. They tried to bring the Starbucks brand to Israel, but with an already flourishing coffee house culture established, it was a complete failure.

Today I got my first ice café of the trip in Herzeliya. We went to the Marina, an upscale mall on the ocean with it’s own beach. The beach was absolutely packed with Israeli high school kids, and we later found out it was their first day of summer break. There were some intense games of matkot going on, a beach game with wood paddles and a rubbery ball that is hit back and forth. We tried to buy our own matkot set, but because of inflation, they were charging 150 shekels for them- about $40.

We gave up at the beach and tried to find a place to eat lunch. We settled on a fish restaurant and were seated at a table. The waitress barely acknowledged us, and came over a few minutes later and threw a stack of menus on the table apathetically. In general, I find that people in Israel come in two extremes. Either they are incredibly warm and go out of their way to make you comfortable, or they treat you like they are doing you a favor. The attitude of the waitress upset Nevo so much, that we decided to take our business elsewhere.

We relocated to a bistro with an ocean view on the Namal Tel Aviv. It just so happens that the opening scene of one of my favorite films- Waltz With Bashir, took place in this location, and large screen shots from the film hung on the wall. Don’s cousin Sagi surprised us and showed up on his bicycle. After eating, we walked the entire boardwalk into the heart of the city. We kept walking until the sun set and I fell asleep in an air conditioned McDonalds, waiting for Ofir to pick us up and drive home. It was the first night I slept past 6 am.

Day Six: Yom Vav

Since it was the day of Tali’s wedding, we wanted to take it easy, knowing we would be up all night. My uncle Pini and aunt Vered own a spa in Tel Aviv, so I called them and set up appointments for Nevo and Joanna as an anniversary treat. We were all ready to do, but when we tried to start the car we realized the battery was dead. The rental company sent a mechanic, but the wait time was uncertain- first they said fifteen minutes, then they said three hours. We cancelled the spa plan and decided to stay around Tel Mond instead.

I think Tel Mond is bad luck for cars. On my last trip to Israel, when my cousin Danielle was picking me up at Tami’s house, she took a wrong turn, drove over a boulder, and cut her brake fluid line. Despite all of that, I would rather wait out car troubles, than have the responsibility of driving in Israel. Everyone here has a tiny car that is covered in dirt, they weave in and out of traffic, and cut you off without signaling. Nevo says, “it’s like everyone here is playing Mariocart”.

Parking habits are also questionable. There is an ongoing competition for who can spot the worst parking job. When no parking spot is available in a parking lot, people frequently just create their own and abandon their car wherever there is space. I’ve seen cars parked on medians, facing the wrong direction, or scraping the bumper of the car behind them. Israeli’s seem nonchalant about all the bad driving. A woman was making a u-turn in front of us, but stopped halfway- perpendicular to oncoming traffic. The guy in the car trying to pass her rolled down his window and shouted, “You are not blocking the road at all!”

In the evening, we all got dressed up and headed to Tali’s wedding venue just as the sun was setting. It was located in an area with many farms and orchards. We drove down windy dirt roads, and arrived at a gorgeous grassy clearing with white furniture scattered under trees with lanterns hanging from the branches. There was a large dance floor, several appetizer stations, an open bar, and a cappuccino barista. Though we were among the first to arrive, the place was soon filled with over 300 guests, which I’m told is small for an Israeli wedding. At about 9 pm, everyone was summoned over to the chuppah for the wedding ceremony. It was hard to see what was going on, because the crowd was so big, but Nir and Tali exchanged their vows, and I could hear a glass being shattered as Nir stepped on it, a Jewish wedding custom to remind us of the destruction of the second temple.

The dinner buffets were opened and the guests mingled and ate. We kept finding Don’s little cousin Noam getting into trouble; trying to grab the coi fish from the pond with his bare hands, chasing all the little girls, and stealing sugar packets from the coffee station. The DJ started blaring an eclectic mix of electronic music, Hebrew and Arabic dance music, and 80’s American pop songs. Don preferred revisiting the dessert buffet to dancing. Though the couple getting married was Moroccan, this wedding was more traditionally Ashkenazic, or European, in style. I guess with Tali’s Hina party, they got the best of both worlds.

"All the best restaurants are in the backs of gas stations"

Day Four: Yom Daled

I spent my morning uploading my travel writings and photos to my blog and sent it to my family. Aaron responded almost immediately that my blog is banned in China. My phone rang around 7am, and it was my Saba (grandfather). He said he knew I was awake because he saw my updated pictures on facebook, otherwise he wouldn’t have called so early. He asked me to join him for lunch in a restaurant nearby called Unis, the exact same spot I met him for lunch three years ago. Don and his family were packing up to go to the beach, and Joanna asked me if I had any magazines she could borrow. I told her “Ya, I have the New Yorker”, and she laughed and said “wow, stop being so serious all the time”.

Tali dropped me off at the restaurant, which looked nothing like a restaurant from the outside- rather an extension of a gas station. “All the best restaurants are in the backs of gas stations”, Tali assured me. I found Saba sitting at a table with his wife, Kay, and my Aunt Tzipporah. Before I could sit down, there was a flurry of photo taking, and they all commented on how blue my eyes are and how I should gain some weight. Not a difficult thing to accomplish at a place like this.

The waiters started bringing out plates and plates of salads and a huge stack fresh pita. I filled up on tabouli, hummus, cabbage salad, grilled eggplant, and fifteen other identifiable but delicious appetizers. Just when I thought I couldn’t eat anymore, the waiters came over to take our order. I thought we already had eaten the whole meal, but additional plates of shish kebab, lamb, and fish, were brought out.

The owner of the restaurant came over to chat with my family, and I was introduced as their American granddaughter who is trying to learn Hebrew. He turned to me and in slow Hebrew said “ Oh! If you worked here, you would learn Hebrew very fast!” My family laughed and said “see you have a job here already”.

After doing some catching up, Turkish coffee, baklavah, and a yoghurty-type of flan drenched in rosewater were brought out for dessert. I literally couldn’t take another bite. The meal could have probably fed an additional five people. Don suddenly appeared to pick me up on his way home from the beach, and my grandfather frantically pulled out his camera and started snapping pictures again. With an overly full stomach and hundred-degree heat, I needed a nap to recover. I woke up at sunset, unfortunately dragging my jet lag out one more day.

Tali's Hina

Day Three: Yom Gimmel

Waking up early again, I tried to practice reading the Israeli newspaper. Rather than news of violent conflict, which usually dominates the international news coverage of Israel, I was surprised to see that the top story was about “cottage cheese wars”. Israel has some of the best dairy products in the world, and apparently the price foreigners pay for imported Israeli cottage cheese is far less than what Israelis have to pay for their own products. This information caused an outrage leading to a nation wide boycott of cottage cheese. The impact was severe enough that the company drastically dropped their prices, making the dairy delight affordable again. Note to self: stock up on cottage cheese ASAP. It’s best served at breakfast on toast with Israeli salad.

At a more reasonable hour of the day, the house began buzzing in preparation for Tali’s bridal party. In Hebrew, the event is called a “Hina”. It sounds like “Tahina”- the sesame seed paste commonly served on falafels, just without the “ta”. The Hina is a Moroccan custom, where the mother of the bride throws an elaborate party for her betrothed daughter. The occasion involves traditional costumes, a smorgasbord of desserts, lots of dancing, and the ceremonial adornment the bride and groom to be with henna paste.

Tami hired a company to help put on this production. They arrived several hours before the party and transformed their backyard into a scene from Casablanca. A tent was erected with a white throne, and there were gold teapots on top of tables with ornate tapestries, cushions on the floor, and candles flickering in every corner. They carted in a massive grill, called a Taboun, where they made fresh pita bread for the guests. A rack of embroidered kaftans, fez hats, and scarves stood by the door for guests to choose a costume from. After the food was served, loud music began blaring from the living room and women began to gather on the dance floor clapping their hands and making loud trill noises I can’t replicate.

Tali and Nir, the bride and groom to be, emerged from a room with lit up sparklers in their hands. Tali was dressed like a belly dancer with a long gold skirt and a bejeweled halter top. She had a headdress on with a gold ornament that hung over her third eye. Nir wore white flowy pants and a white tunic with an embroidered vest, looking very much like Aladdin. After their grand entrance, they made their way to the white throne in the tent. Once seated, they were presented with gifts and well wishes from their parents. The bowl of henna paste was brought to the couple, and they smeared it on each other’s palms. They put dots of henna on the palms of all the guests- a temporary tattoo, and way of proving “I was at that party”. After the paste was left to dry and washed off, it left an orange blob that looked like fake tanner that was left on for too long.

The jubilant crowd danced the night away and barely noticed when the costumes were packed up and the tent was taken down. It was quite a party. I felt bad for Nevo and Joanna, who arrived to the party directly from the twenty-some hour journey from Los Angeles. Bleary eyed, they eventually called it a night, and I followed suit.

Dispatches from Israel

So I've neglected posting anything for quite awhile, but now that I'm travelling, I feel the need to document my experiences. Here's what I've been up to lately.

Day One: Yom Alef

Though the last time I was in Israel was three years ago, everything is so familiar, it hardly seems like a different country. The heat will take some getting used to though. I’m trying hard to work on my Hebrew, a personal goal of mine, and I signed up for “ulpan” – an intensive Hebrew course, in two weeks. They sent me some practice tapes and I started listening to them on the plane. “Repeat these affirmations. Hebrew is easy and fun. I understand and speak Hebrew fluently. I progress rapidly in Hebrew”. Ok, I guess I can start with that. Even though I’m jet lagged, I’ve been trying extra hard to understand the rapid and loud conversations constantly going on in the background.

For now, we are staying at Don’s aunt Tami’s house. We have already been overfed with amazing dishes of cous cous, meatballs, home made pickles, schnitzel, and Israeli salad. Every trip to Israel I’ve been on so far has been a marathon of eating, where every family member competes to feed me the most. Last time, my grandmother even showed up at the airport with five bags of groceries for us, just in case we got hungry on the drive to the hotel.

After lunch, I fell asleep on the futon while Shalom, Don’s uncle, did wedding planning on the phone. I tried to listen – “sloshah anashim be shulchan sloshim veh chamesh…” It was like an advanced version of counting sheep and I fell asleep in minutes.

Day Two: Yom Bet

I woke up at 4am because of jet lag, and the neighborhood rooster cawing. I helped myself to a breakfast of croissant with nutella, and did some sun salutations of a makeshift yoga mat in the spare room. Don woke up, and we decided to take a walk around the neighborhood before the heat of the day set in. Tel Mond is essentially a suburb of Tel Aviv, located in Gush Dan. The houses here are big have nice patios. I can sense Don is very nostalgic for life here. He lingered at the soccer field, imagining his pleasant childhood in Israel.

Once everyone else woke up, we had another round of breakfast, and decided to go to the beach. We drove into Netanya to do some errands first, and I was reminded of the intense security measures that are part of daily life here. We stopped into Cellcom to buy SIM cards for our phones, and an armed guard checked bags at the door. I casually walked past him, oblivious to the protocol, and Don had to remind me that that’s a no-no. Thankfully, he didn’t chase after me because I wasn’t too suspicious looking. I just need to be more aware next time. We got some free purple slurpee drinks from Cellcom, and then headed out to the beach. It was fairly empty, and the weather was perfect. After such a harsh winter in Chicago, this was the first time my pale skin was exposed to sun. I barely went in the water though for fear of jellyfish. Last time I was in Israel, I was stung by one on my stomach, and I did not wish to repeat that experience. A dead one washed up on the beach, looking like a plastic bag, just reaffirmed my fears.

Several hours later, I returned home with a bright red circular sunburn on my chest, from the one spot I forgot to apply sun screen. After a five hour “nap”, the family all gathered at Dror’s house for Shabbat dinner. All of Don’s little cousins frolicked in the yard and threw pillows at each other. They did not remember me from my last visit, three years ago, and Noam even asked Don, “Where did you get this girl from?” I guess he was confused why I spoke so little Hebrew, but tickles and pillow fights seem to be pretty universal.