Israel: The Stories of Old and New

Israel is hard to talk about. There is so much ancient history, and modern politics combined. The people of America are so enmeshed with Israel politically and religiously, that it is hard to get a truly objective look at it without actually going there. I will try to be as objective as possible to avoid conflict or angry letters to the editor. We have been home long enough to have a few Israel conversations already, and I can say that one thing is true for both there and here: Israel is a source of great disagreement.

So, rather than give too many analyses of our experiences, I will just focus on what we did and saw and allow you, the reader, to come to your own conclusions.

When we got to Israel, after the long trip out of India, we were SO glad to be there! We met up with Hadas (who we had met on our flight to Mumbai) and her sister Daphne, and drove to their house in Yuvalim. The first two days, I was so excited I couldn’t stop pointing and exclaiming. It was our first Western country in 6 months, and it felt so different and yet so familiar. We showered, did laundry, ate homemade cake, and went for hummus. Mmm…hummus. I could write a love song.

After a few lovely relaxing days in Yuvalim, we Couchsurfed one week with a fun couple our age named Ariel and Michal. They cooked us tasty food, entertained us with trivia games, and showed us a pleasant hike to a cold river. On one of our last days, we went out for an Israeli dessert called kenafe, a highly rich cheese coated in crumbly noodles and too much sugar. Delicious.

We next went to Ofra in the West Bank with Ofer and Yoni, another Couchsurfing couple, to celebrate Shabbat with Yoni’s parents and siblings. We listened to a lot of singing and praying and Hebrew, and did lots of eating and sleeping and reading, and occasionally took walks at night when it was cool. We went to the synagogue, where the men sat on the main floor near the altar, and the women sat on a second floor balcony looking down through a screen. The family lives the Orthodox life, keeping separate sinks and dishware for dairy and meat foods and dressing modestly with covered heads and arms. They were very kind and interested in our lives, and welcomed us graciously. Their family lives in a Jewish settlement, so we didn’t get the opportunity to meet any Palestinian families while we were there, but we did see some surrounding villages on our walks, and heard stories of other “illegal” settlements in the area.

We parted with Ofer and Yoni and went back to Ariel and Michal’s for another night, went out for bagels and ice cream, and hitched it to Yarok Az. Our final WWOOF location was an eco-tourism campsite-slash-goat farm, with fresh vegetables and goat cheese every day and lots of art projects to keep me happily busy. I began painting a sunflower in the volunteer trailer, which was fun and relaxing. I felt so excited to have some stability and a work schedule after all our travels, and I began waking up at 7am to milk the goats and feed the rabbits and chickens and guinea pigs, and water the trees and be busy again! Busy in a different way from the chaos of travel, what a relief. It would all be perfect if it weren’t so blasted hot outside. It was helpful to get outdoors early to get work done before it got so hot I couldn’t bear my own sweatiness anymore (around 10 am). The goats were curious and eager to interact, always eating my shoelaces and my fingers and rubbing me with their horns. I plan to be an expert milker, perhaps even with my own goats someday. We made yogurt and Labonet cheese with their milk, and pounds of delicious pasta sauce out of the enormous stock of fresh garden tomatoes.

The room we are staying in is mostly mud and wood and linen, and I love it. There is lots of breeze and light shadows and singing frogs outside the window (as well as one infernal rooster).

Our host Avi took us to Nazareth, and we got to see the spot where Jesus leapt from Mount Precipice to Mt. Tabor to escape the Romans (a new story for me). We also saw a beautiful Franciscan church built on top of the cave where Jesus lived with his parents. Then we went to the church of Mount Tabor (the mountain Jesus jumped TO), which was in simple but luminescent Franciscan style and was holding mass with some pleasant a capella singing.

We went to the Sea of Galilee (called the Kineret, meaning Violin), and to the Jordan River where John baptized Jesus. There was a group dressed in white all getting baptized Gopel-style, which, judging by the dramatic baptism photos on the walls of the gift shop, seems to be the favorite style around here.

We went to the construction shop of Avi’s good friend to look at gravel. Avi had helped this friend open a second shop in Avi’s neighborhood, which had caused controversy because the man is an Arab and even secular Jews have a hard time forgetting their old teachings and welcoming non-Jews into the community. The politics are very interesting in this country. It definitely seems like there is this feeling of Jews vs “Arabs” (aka Everyone Else), but the Jews are the favorite children so they get all the good stuff (like paved roads, quality food and water, and other materials/resources, religious freedom and even land that isn’t legally theirs, like the West Bank). Most of the people we meet here make at least one racist comment about Arabs (who are not necessarily Muslim, they are Christian and other ethnicities, too). Ariel did tell us that some of the talk about Arabs not respecting/obeying laws and rules of order is probably true, though not because they are lesser humans. He thinks they are probably just tired of being treated like second-class citizens and they don’t feel compelled to behave like “upstanding members of society” if they already got a bad rap at birth.

Israel is such an interesting place. Only the Arabs are actually from here; the Jews all moved here from mostly Europe, and Hebrew was resurrected with a few modern additions (such as “perfectionist”). It is such a fascinating dynamic, especially since in its short time as a country the people have already started generalizing Israeli mannerisms, ways of phrasing things, and other cultural tidbits as though the people had really birthed, lived, and died here for generations rather than their parents or grandparents moving here 60 years ago. Maybe it is because since coming here, the people have done a lot of living and dying. Israel is a patchwork, a pidgin, a big mix of factors from all sides, and still difficult for everyone to live with. It doesn’t have the smoothness and security of the melting pot, the easy understanding of the creole, but it has a lot of culture coming in—and you’d never hear anyone call the place boring. Every time I talk to someone else about visiting here, no matter where I am or where the person is from, I am always inevitably asked the same question: “Why Israel?” Nobody EVER asks, “Why India?” even though I found myself asking what I was doing there many times during those exhausting train rides. Avi said, “We are a tiny country…We have so many problems…We are so far away from all your other destinations…Why here?” It is strange to me. Why anyplace else? Why leave home at all? And why NOT Israel? Honestly, I can’t remember any of our reasons for choosing ANY of the countries we went to, aside from one or both of us having always wanted to go there, or for practical reasons like money and country hugeness—and Africa is an undertaking all its own. I usually tell people that I have always wanted to see the places that were mentioned so often in the Bible, to get a taste of the Holy Land and see how religion exists there today. I also say something about the frequent news in America about the Israel/Palestine (as well as every other bordering country) conflict, and our alliances here. I want to know more, to see it firsthand.  

We visited the Bah’ai Gardens as our last adventure with Avi before leaving for Jerusalem. The Bah’ai religion is one of the many ancient religions throughout Israel, and one that believes in harmony through differences. The garden is totally symmetrical and decorated with plants of contrasting colors (red and green, purple and yellow) in order to display the beauty that comes from the union of opposites. It is amazing the level of spirituality that exists in this country, as well as the extreme religious strife. It is a little hard to understand why the Holy Land cannot be shared among all of these religions at once, rather than torn down over their differences, but of course I don’t live here, so I can only assume the issue is a little more complex than that. Ethnic disparity and religious intolerance is never a simple issue.

We said goodbye to Yarok Az, took the bus to Jerusalem (with the driver lipsynching opera and waving his arm dramatically), and found Daphna. She took us out for Belgian waffles and beers our first night, and the next day we toured the Old City of Jerusalem with her tour-guide friend Yael. We walked the ramparts and looked out over the land in the early part of the day before it got too hot. Then we visited the Holy Sepulchre, supposedly the site of Jesus’ crucifixion but now a patchwork of building styles on the outside and a super neat cave-slash-four-part church inside. The church is owned by four different sects of Christianity who don’t even get along enough to decide who can take down the work ladder outside. I saw the slab Jesus was lain on after being taken off the cross, and I touched it. I saw the Dome of the Rock from afar, but not up close yet. We walked through the narrow covered streets with markets filling the spaces on both sides, and went to the Arab part of town for lunch. The food was so good—salads and pita and hummus and fries and falafel and leftovers! Then to the market for zahar spice, grapes, and some delicious chocolate pastries.

We went to the Israel Museum all the next day, and saw exhibits on Hasidic Jews; the Greeks, Romans, and other origins of religion and philosophy; as well as the Dead Sea scrolls. Jerusalem is very cultural and diverse; a place I hope to return to, though I’m not certain it will be the same when I get back.

We met up with my college friend, Yarden, in Tel-Aviv. He took us to the beach, gave us a tour of the city, and joined us for hors d’oeuvres. Neal and I ventured out on our own to brave the heat and the difficult transportation system, seeking a few last adventures before returning home. I was ready for “a vacation from the vacation,” as Michal put it, but I was also anxious about returning to the normalcy of life at home. “Am I ready?” We walked to the beach and had our last ocean swim of the international portion of our trip.

We met Roya, a German-Iranian girl who came to Israel in response to a big “Israel Loves Iran” movement within Facebook. It’s very uplifting to see such an act of love and I hope it does some good for bringing peace to this region. I also see some Americans getting involved. We were both interviewed, showing up on You Tube! Famous.

On our last day in Israel, we took a bus to the Dead Sea. It was super hot when we got there (44 Celsius), but still packed with people. We ate lunch, and then got into the water. WOAH! What a mind bender. It takes effort to keep your body from bobbing up and spread-eagling on the surface, and it is SO salty that any contact with orifices (especially mouth and eyes) leads to extreme discomfort. We had a ball, practicing our ridiculous poses and gathering salt deposits and beautiful rocks near the shore. We set up our tent just before dark, and spent some quality time reflecting on our trip and sharing our feelings and expectations about the future until the bats began to swoop around our heads. We decided we just had to go for one more soak in the darkness, so we tumbled down the slippery slope to the water, guided only by our hands on the railing and the dim red light of the clock. Even after dark, it was 41 degrees Celsius. The wind had picked up since we left, and the big water was full of rolling waves. It was like being in a sensory deprivation tank, with no light or sensation and the low hum of the moving water. We actually had to be careful to pay attention and stay close to shore, because it would have been very easy to be pulled out too far and get in big trouble. But wow, it was worth it. It was beautiful and mystical and deep and dangerously comforting and EXTREMELY painful when I got a good amount of salt water in my eye. We stayed as long as our already over-salted bodies could handle it, lying on our backs to see the stars and occasionally gently bobbing into each other.

We went back up, showered and went to bed. It was quickly obvious that the inside of the tent was too hot, so we moved outside, occasionally waking to see the moon a little higher in the sky. What a wonderful way to conclude an epic journey like this one (even though the adventure still feels far from over). I woke up early with the sun, and the heat soon followed, along with the flies, and the cackles of crows. We packed up our tent, waited for the bus, and went home for our last meal abroad. Yarden and I made shakshuka omelets for dinner, and we chatted with him and his friend from France. She talked about how she has been traveling almost constantly for the past 5 years and she is trying to make herself settle down a little. She says she loves travel—the exploration of new cultures and people, the adventure, the constantly opening doors of opportunity. But it spreads her mind out too much, making it hard for her to find that one interest to pursue more permanently. She keeps moving, saying, “Maybe this next town will be the perfect place to settle down and live for awhile.” But life is rarely that obvious, so she is going back to France to find her bearings and do something with herself. I understand that. Travel has defined me but not directed me. It opens it all up, which is fantastic and frustrating at once.

We took a plane to Madrid, and sat in the beautiful airport watching all the Americans be American, trying to get ready for a whole country full of them. I felt like a glass that is too full of water but the tap is still dripping into it and it begins to quietly overflow. The world is an expansive and engulfing experience, and I expect it will take me years to discover the many ways that it has become me, and vice versa. Before we left, Avi told me, “You are young. Your life is ahead of you. Mine is behind me, and I am glad for that.”  I think he is wise. The experience of life is tumultuous and exciting and overwhelming at times, and sometimes it is a gift to be able to look back on one’s experiences and be grateful that it happened just the way it did. Now my only job is to reap the benefits of all my past experiences, and to be grateful for the chance to go home.

Israel, A Long History

While we were in Israel we went to the Israel Museum in Jerusalem. We spent the whole day there, and by the end we were both exhausted. We learned of Hasidic Judaism, saw multiple art exhibits, saw the Dead Sea Scrolls, and learned a lot about the history of that region of the world. It was extremely fascinating to me to learn about how humans have evolved over the past 250,000 years.  The most interesting time period, for me, was between 6,000 to 15,000 years ago. This was basically the dawn of modern civilization, social structure, and religion as we know it today.

The following sections are taken directly from the museum’s explanations of different exhibits.

Stone Age/ Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic Periods

250,000 – 14,500 years ago

“Overtime, societies appeared whose economy and lifestyle were based on gathering plants and hunting wild animals. Improvement in hunting skills occurred in parallel with advances in the manufacture of stone tools, especially points, which were used for making spears.”

“These hunter gatherers lived under harsh climatic conditions. Better control of fire enabled them to inhabit caves for long periods of the year. At these sites, the earliest evidence has been found for the beginnings of certain social behaviors and for activities other than those that satisfied immediate needs.”

“As bands of our species, Homo sapiens, spread out all over the world, cultural change known as the “Great Leap Forward” took place. This revolution included the extinction of other human species and the appearance of modern humans. These were people like us: they invented new tools, engaged in art and ornamentation, sought spiritual meaning in their lives, and left behind customs that accompany us to this day.”

Copper Age/ Chalcolithic Period

6,500 – 5,500 years ago

“The social and economic developments that appeared at the end of the Stone Age came to fruition in Chalcolithic times, a thousand-year period of peace, stability, and prosperity. People began producing a much wider range of foods, and the population of villages increased dramatically as a result. Most importantly, people discovered how to extract copper and gold from rock and developed the technology to work it. The name for the period, comes from the Greek words chalcos, meaning copper, and lithos, meaning stone, because these were the first people to use metals even as they continued working with stone.”

“The discovery of metalworking had profound social and cultural implications. Those responsible for making the metal objects came to occupy an important position in society. Together with the emergence of sanctuaries and the appearance of a priestly class, complex social hierarchies arose.”

“The remarkable richness of Chalcolithic culture suggests that this society was more advanced than any of its predecessors. Yet as suddenly as it appeared, so it disappeared, for reasons that remain a mystery today.”

Early Bronze Age

3,500 – 2,300 BCE

“The first cities were established in the second half of the 4^th millennium BCE along the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in Mesopotamia and along the Nile in Egypt. Soon after, cities appeared in Canaan as well. The Process of Urbanization was a social revolution of utmost importance. It led to greater institutionalization of religion and rule, advances in the arts, and the growth of international trade.”

“The first cities in Canaan, such as Arad in the Negev, were well planned units that dominated their agricultural environs. They were surrounded by defensive walls and contained palaces, sanctuaries, residential neighborhoods, industrial districts, and marketplaces. These facilities served a hierarchical society of farmers, shepherds, craftsmen, and priests, under the central leadership of a ruler.”

Middle and Late Bronze Age

2,000 – 1,200 BCE

“During the first half of the 2^nd millennium BCE, a rich urban culture reappeared in Canaan. Numerous city-states arose, such as Hazor in the north, which dominated their rural surroundings and were fortified by massive walls. This period, the Middle Bronze Age, has also yielded the first evidence of alphabetic writing: proto-Canaanite script, the forerunner of the Hebrew alphabet.”

“The mid 16^th century BCE marks the beginning of the Late Bronze Age. For most of this time, Canaan was under Egyptian rule. Nevertheless, the Canaanites maintained a distinct material culture and religion, and, in fact, reached a peak. International trade flourished, and Canaan played a key role in this arena thanks to its important position along major land and sea routes.”

“In the second half of the 13^th century BCE, the balance of power between the empires surrounding Canaan shifted, and the Hittite Kingdom (Turkey), Mycenae (Greece), and centers in northern Syria and Canaan collapsed. Egypt lost much of its power, and around 1200 BCE its influence over Canaan began to wane, clearing the stage for the entry of new cultural entities. A new period – the Iron Age – began.”

“Some scholars have suggested that this period, during which pastoral, tribal societies lived on the outskirts of Canaan’s large cities, should be seen as the backdrop for the biblical stories of the Patriarchs.”

“The Canaanites worshiped many gods, who were responsible for all aspects of life and the forces of nature. At the head of the panteon was El, father of the gods, and his wife Asherah, their mother. The chief god, however, was the storm god Baal, responsible for fertility and growth. The main goddesses were Anat and Astarte, symbols of beauty, fertility, and war.”

“Though the Canaanites had entered a period of decline, they continued to preserve many aspects of their culture, including religious practices and beliefs. Powerful symbols such as the lion, the bull, and the Tree of Life still served as images of protection and fertility. This deep rooted Canaanite style continued into the early days of the Israelite monarchy.”

“Within a few hundred years, most of the Canaanites assimilated into the other populations of the land. Those living in the norther coastal plain, however, retained many Canaanite cultural features. They came to be known as Phoenicians.”

Early Iron Age

1,200 – 1,000 BCE

“In the wake of the destruction, the Canaanites managed to restore cities in the northern valleys. Meanwhile, a new people – the Israelites – appeared in the barren hill country, and another group – the Philistines – arrived from Greek islands or Cyprus, ultimately settling in the southern coastal plain.”

“The following hundred years saw the gradual expansion of groups of Israelites and Philistines into Canaanite territory. These peoples fought frequently for dominion, as many biblical stories relate. Yet archaeology reveals that they also influenced each other greatly.”

Late Iron Age

“Beginning with the decline of the great powers of the Ancient East around 1,200 BCE, it lasted over six hundred years, until the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 BCE. The Bible records many of the important events of these times.”

“The Israelites began as a loosely organized, rural society. Over time, they succeeded in establishing a kingdom. The heart of the kingdom was its capital, Jerusalem; the heart of Jerusalem was the Temple. Not long after the kingdom formed, however, struggles for succession divided it into two: the Kingdom of Israel in the north and Kingdom of Judah in the south.”

“The Assyrians destroyed the Kingdom of Israel in 722 BCE. About 130 years later, Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylonia, sent his army to Judah to subdue a rebellious Jerusalem. The city was destroyed, and the Temple was put to the torch. The Babylonians sent a significant part of the population into exile.”

“Babylonia fell to Cyrus, King of Persia, in 539 BCE. Shortly thereafter, the new ruler allowed the exiles to return to the Land and rebuild their Temple. Judah, now called Yehud, became a Persian province, until it was conquered by Alexander the Great in 332 BCE.”

Well, I think that is enough for this history lesson. Trust me, there is so much more.

Patience: Letting the Mosquitoes Bite

Wow. India. India was a whirlwind of sensory chaos and social overstimulation…or was it the other way around? Whatever it was, we got served an extra-large helping. I had traveled to India once before, with Fort Lewis College in 2009, and the experience had been extremely positive and inspirational, enough so to convince me I just had to go back. This time around, things were a bit different.  India was the same of course—loud noises, enormous crowds, cows in the street, the overwhelming smells of delicious food and human excrement combined—but our level of preparation, friendly connections, and funds was dramatically lower, which made our trip significantly more difficult than last time.  Every time we took a train, instead of arriving by taxi and finding our pre-booked seat, we had to run around town to find an honest rickshaw (not an easy task when you’re a clearly overloaded white person), then explore the station with our big bags looking for the tourist office (if it was open) to reserve a sleeper (if it was available) or anything which kept us out of General seating (a giant writhing mass of body parts and bags literally bursting out every open door and window). Usually the outcome of such a situation would be that we would be sold some half ticket which didn’t get us a seat anywhere, and try to find an empty spot until somebody came by to sell us the other half, only to get charged a hefty fine by the train guy for not paying for our spot. We never actually had to pay those fines, since there was always a friendly local around to defend our bewildered state, but it did make for a lot of hoopla and bustling around (and no sleeping whatsoever through one 9-hour night ride). One time we decided to avoid the situation altogether, and spent four hours in the hallway between the bathrooms (not recommended).

                We didn’t have the comfortable sedans to drive us the long distances between towns, choosing instead the cheapest transport options, which usually meant local buses. On one 15-hour nightmare bus ride, we veered around sharp corners and leaned precariously over cliffs, nearly running into buildings at every turn in the near-total darkness while everyone around us somehow managed to look completely unconcerned, and even sleep! On another bus, we found out after leaving the station that the bus trip would be lasting just enough extra time to make us miss our connecting train, and we spent three hours sitting in the very front listening to the horn blow and trying not to freak out. Since we had no pre-arrangements made for our travel, we met a lot of people who were eager to scam us. We were overcharged, tricked with loopholes, not told the full truth, and taken to a few strange places on the way to our intended destinations. Feeling like people were making a business out of our misfortune made it difficult for us to feel like we could trust others. And then the big whammy came on our way out of India.

                Our flight itinerary involved a domestic flight from Delhi to Mumbai, then a 3 hour layover, and an international flight to Tel-Aviv, Israel. The reality involved one big storm and a whole lotta mess afterward. We had to land at another airport to wait out the storm, finally arriving in Mumbai at midnight and getting on the 30-minute shuttle bus to the international airport, only to be dropped off outside the secure zone and not allowed back in since our ticket was no longer valid. We spent the rest of that night and the two days afterward in a covered waiting room with two Israeli girls in the same predicament, being rejected help by all participating airlines and looking for any accessible form of internet to beg the outside world for help. We had no phone, no rupee or functioning ATM, no internet, a lot of luggage, and one pricey coffeeshop to provide soggy sandwiches twice a day. On a stroke of luck we managed to rig the ticket kiosk to access email, and wrote to friends asking for money, which they assumed was a scam and posted warnings on Facebook for nobody to send anything. It’s a real funny story, just ask us to give you the full account and you’re in for a hoot. But for the sake of sanity, long story short we miraculously attained WiFi for enough time to call my parents and have them purchase us escape tickets to Switzerland and then Tel-Aviv. It was a 20-hour flight that evening, and my mom asked us if we would be up for such a long travel time. We hadn’t slept much at all in our three –day ordeal, and at that point all we wanted was to GET OUT, so we couldn’t have said “YES” faster. I wish I could have photographed the look on Neal’s face when he ordered his free Scotch and Coke from the hostess on our Swiss Air flight ten hours later. All I can say is, THANK GOD FOR PARENTS!

Anyway, the point of all these stories is not only to urge anyone reading to PLAN AHEAD any trip to an Asian country, but also to share the big lesson we had to learn about Patience.  Every time something difficult came my way, I would say to myself, “Patience, patience.” I didn’t want my experience in India to be one of grudging toleration and thinly-veiled irritation when I had been so changed by my last experience there. I wanted to open up to the beauty of India, to forgive the place for its troubles and love it for its ability to transform the soul. But if I was going to do that, I would need to pass this patience final exam and transcend those obstacles.

If you have the fortitude for it, India is a beautiful place. It is full of vibrant color and teeming life, and the culture there is a whole different type of freedom than the one we are so proud of in America. There, a man can renounce the material world entirely, wear no clothes and cover himself with sacred ash, and his neighbors will make sure he eats every day. There is always a place for the poor, and practicing your religion in public will not get you sidelong glances from passersby. A person can open a shop under the stairs somewhere and never have to pay property taxes, or sleep anywhere and never be questioned. Bartering is customary, so you are free to decide what price an item is actually worth instead of letting the business determine how much money it can make off you. The fabrics are of finest quality; the music and dancing are exotic and entrancing; and the food is absolutely delicious. And don’t forget the centuries of politics and religious teachings, which form the backbone of many Indian people’s lives (as well as transforming Western ideas), and deepen the sights and sounds with enchanting mystery.

India is also a place where you can see life at its most real. The vast separation between rich and poor took us aback—we saw well-dressed professionals driving personal vehicles to and from work, and others who had never traveled much farther than the mud hut or curbside shack where they were born. The sheer numbers of people at every turn was overwhelming, especially when a good number of them were staring openly and unabashedly at the two of us. Because of the huge population and the absence of governmental programs and regulations such as waste management or traffic police, the effects of the increasingly popular consumer lifestyle are starkly obvious. The smell of garbage burning takes over the streets at dusk, and people suffer from all sorts of lung diseases from breathing noxious car exhaust fumes. There are no education programs or incentives to help the poor become less so, so the caste system which was abandoned so many years ago still plays a big role in the opportunities each person has access to—in other words, if you’re born poor, you stay poor.

Despite all of the difficulties that Indian life presents, however, the people are remarkably tolerant and accepting of most things. They have mastered the art of waiting hours, days, or even years for something to come, and they are even better at shrugging it off when it never does come. Watching those people sleep on the bus when I was certain we would die any second was an eye-opening experience for me. I realized the level of relinquishment that total acceptance of one’s situation requires, and the power inherent in the most seemingly helpless of moments. Indian people redefined the word “patience” for me. I realized that patience is not just an idea, but a way of life.

The interesting thing about patience is that we wouldn’t need to use it if there were nothing around to test it. As Helen Keller said, “We could never learn to be brave and patient, if there were only joy in the world.” Every description of patience is accompanied by words such as ‘difficulty,’ ‘delay,’ ‘provocation,’ ‘annoyance,’ ‘anger,’ ‘negativity,’ ‘strain,’ et cetera. Notice that these words describe external situations with internal responses. Usually what is testing our patience is outside of our selves and our sphere of control.  This can be extremely frustrating, especially when the problem is being caused by another person, but it can also be freeing. The modern philosopher Eckart Tolle says that we have three choices in any situation: “change it, leave it, or accept it totally.” If one or more of those options isn’t available, you are left with what is left. We hear the same idea in the Christian peace prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.” Being able to accept a situation completely without inner resistance takes a lot of practice (which I can personally vouch for). It also requires us to forgive others for their habits or indecisiveness (or for viewing us as a source of income rather than a fellow human being), and realize how dependent on others we actually are in nearly every aspect of our lives. Being patient with others is a form of compassion and respect for them. The Buddhist philosophy goes beyond patience as merely a form of endurance, saying that we have to be committed to never return harm. “See that no one returns evil for evil; rather, always seek what is good for each other and for all.”

In India, I often felt like I had no control over our situation. On that long and scary bus ride, I had the same three options: I could get off the bus, I could try to convince the bus driver to slow down, or I could put all my faith into something completely out of my hands. I considered all three options, and I decided to have faith. I sat there on the bus and worked hard on my trust, accepting my situation and all potential outcomes as out of my hands, and forgiving the people around me for not feeling the same way I did. I allowed the storm to take its course, instead of creating another storm within myself to fight it. And guess what? We made it safely to our destination—though I never plan to take a night bus in India ever again. I do have control over THAT situation…I hope.

It is okay to feel helpless. It is okay not to know what to do all the time, because it isn’t our job as humans to know what to do. We are subject to the workings of the Universe, and we really can’t control much except our inner realities (which I believe is the MOST effective way to influence your outer reality). Sometimes the only option you are left with is taking a deep breath and sitting back. This applies to boredom as well. I think Americans often suffer with the affliction of boredom, because we are trained to feel like we should always be busy accomplishing something, always being MORE and BETTER than we were two minutes ago. However, sometimes there is really nothing to do but wait. Pema Chodron wrote a book called “Getting Unstuck,” which discusses our desire for escape and the many ways we perpetuate our own feelings of dissatisfaction. Her solution to this perceived problem is not about freeing ourselves from our physical confines, but rather our mental ones, by Learning to Stay. Boredom may be a struggle, but think of how rare it is in today’s society to be given the chance to sit around with nothing to do. I am practicing the art of the Passive Observer, taking the time when there are no responsibilities to open my eyes and see what is around me in a new way, and I am starting to see just what a gift it is that we are given that chance to step back and look around every once in awhile without having to always play the role of Decider in our own lives. We met a man from the UK in the Mumbai airport who had been waiting FOUR MONTHS to be issued a ticket home. Granted, he was a bit crazy, but nobody could say he hadn’t made the most of the situation, making friends with the staff and taking on the responsibility of helping other marooned travelers find cheap food and shelter when nobody else would help. He opened up to the possibilities inherent in What Is, and allowed himself to adapt to an unpleasant situation in a positive way. The future is uncertain, but that doesn’t mean we have to feel trapped in the Now.

I think the hardest part about learning patience is that it is such a slow process. Even though I had many successful patient moments along the journey, it was no guarantee that I wouldn’t overreact in another situation. The true challenge of patience is making the commitment to doing it over and over again. Persistence over the long term does pay off, but sometimes the experience feels like starting all over again. When I get into mindsets like these, I am reassured by the lessons I learn from the journeys of others. The inspirational activist Peace Pilgrim made a graph of her path to inner peace, with a whole lot more ups and downs than any sort of gradual incline towards improvement. The Dalai Lama has been living in Dharamsala, India, exiled from his homeland of Tibet for most of his life, and yet he is adamant that the people must allow more time for the long-drawn out Tibetan struggle to be resolved. If people such as these can use patience as one of their tools to become powerful leaders in society, then I know I can brush myself off and start again and my efforts will never lead to failure. It seems like a big undertaking, but luckily I really only have to do it one moment at a time, and be committed to doing it when that time comes again. And hopefully after such a big final exam like India, the smaller challenges of daily life will be easier to put into perspective.

The first stories I told about India at the beginning of this blog are commonly told by travelers to this part of the world, so it is easy to understand why people are often wary of visiting such a place (and I know we had a few moments of uncertainty ourselves). I suppose in order to see India at its fullest you have to let your mind transcend the idea of what is “good” or “bad” and just take it for all that it is. In order to do that, it’s going to require a lot of patience, but I assure you, fellow explorers, that the rewards far outmeasure the challenges of such a unique and vibrant place. Jump into the deep end of the Ganges! Let those mosquitoes bite! Be fully awake and alive! INDIA!

Nepal, A Pilgrimage of Self-Realization

Where do I start with Nepal? I arrived in Nepal in March of this year excited to move from the humidity of Thailand's tropical climate to the high altitude climate of the Himalaya. I had only two expectations: the first was to see the worlds tallest peaks; the second was to meet the people that populated the valleys below these peaks, and learn how they managed to live, survive and thrive in one of the planets most hostile environments. I had no idea what that would entail and could never had imagined how it would end up changing my life. Everyday was a new adventure and nearly every experience was filled with beauty, inspiration, and powerful lessons in simplicity, and selflessness. I am currently here at a desk in Israel, which seems like half a world away, both in location and way of life, surrounded by all the western amenities I've for so long been without. I sit here contemplating all those vital self-realizations and life lessons and I find myself wondering how I will incorporate these things in my own reality.

Simplicity could possibly be the most important lesson I take home with me. It seemed that nearly every aspect of the Nepali people's lives revolved around simplicity. Not simplicity in the sense that they used the latest technology to make their lives easier, but more in the sense that they used only what they had at their disposal happily with gratitude. For most of the population living in the high country of the Himalaya, the quick delivery of goods from the outside world is extremely difficult, if not completely impossible. Everything people need in the villages needs to be carried in by Porter, which often takes days, if not weeks. Because of this most of the families still survive off subsistence farming techniques. This is hard work especially in the Himalaya high country. Often too much work for one single person, so the locals would work in groups. One of the most memorable sights was coming across a large group of maybe twenty women in a potato field dressed in their local dress. They were all working in a circle hunched over with smiles on their faces and they sang with such a rich harmony with every ounce of their souls. It was truly a memorable experience.

Another story of simplicity starts with a conversation I had with a local Nepali friend. He and I talked for a long time about many different things, he was very curious about my life outside of Nepal. The drive from Kathmandu to the Langtang Valley, along the perilous mountain roads chiseled into the mountain sides two miles above the valleys, took most of the day so we had ample time to talk. The jeep would eventually drop us in a small village near the Tibetan border where we would start our two week trekking experience, bringing medical supplies and dental care to the local Tibetan refugees most in need. My Nepali friend asked if it was true that in America we watch time, I thought about it for a second and said yes. I had never really thought about that before, we always seem to have something to do. He then told me about how the Nepali people in much of the Himalayan regions think of work. He said that in this region of Nepal you can have a job one day and that is good, or you can not have a job, and that is good as well, either way it's okay. It seemed that having a job wasn't completely necessary to their  well-being, they were often content with life either way. I tried to explain to him our drive for independence, expensive education system and how we work hard to pay off debt we are often forced into. I told him in the western world we are often pressured to live above our means. This idea of debt seemed a bit foreign to him. It was quite an eye opening talk. The thing to take away from this is not that it's better to not have a job or to not be progressive in your life, but instead strive to live simply and fight that urge for excessive want. This will be hard to put into practice when I get home. There are always so many material things that are easily accessible that would either make my life easier or satisfy my need for fun and entertainment. There is also the want in my life for adventure and that drive to make my time here memorable by experiencing as much of the world around me as I can. This is also only a want, although maybe a bit more beneficial to my personal growth than an extra TV. Either way, I will need to find a balance. 

This idea of living simply was brought to my attention again during a conversation I had with my new friend Doc PJ. Let me start with a little background on Doctor PJ so everyone can understand better the type of person he was. He exuded many of those fundamental human qualities that I have personally been struggling to incorporate into my own life, with ease, style and grace everyday. Doc PJ is a practicing doctor in Summit County and he spends the majority of the year working hard to make the people of that community healthy and happy, which is quite a noble ambition in itself. But like all great inspirations, he goes above and beyond what average doctors do. I would consider him a living Robin Hood. He takes most of what he makes during the year, making the wealthy western world healthy, and almost completely solely funds yearly trips to places like Honduras, Sudan, and Nepal to bring health care to the most under-privileged people in the world. These places seem exotic, but in reality are filled with drug wars, civil wars and extreme poverty. All this effort with no need for recognition, only the genuine gratitude and the smiles on the faces of the local people. It is great people like Doc PJ that give me hope for humanity. During one of our daily treks to the next small village along the border, Doc PJ and I were talking about the American lifestyle and what he said was, "I just don't need that extra stuff, I never have, I'm just lucky I guess." This lesson in simplicity was one of many taught by Doc PJ, many of which were taught silently by example. 

One other practice I will take from Doc PJ is an example of the importance of friends and family. He and Siri's dad have shared breakfast once a week, every week, for years. It is often really hard to keep up on all of your relationships in life, but putting extra time and effort into those that are here now is vital in creating that bond while the opportunity is here. I've often said it is the quality of the friends and family you have rather than the quantity. Those quality relationships need to be regularly nurtured and when the future brings its inevitable space, the bond will always remain strong as long as time requires. This idea of regular meals, tea, or outings with the people in my life will be something I will always put my effort into, that I know. 

The simple token of appreciation given by the local Tibetan people was tea and silk scarves. Every village we tried to leave was filled with grateful families and nearly every house we passed asked us to come in to have tea. As a sign of appreciation, the head of the house would give every one on the medical team, often referred to by its members as the "He-Man Jungle Doctor Crew", AKA, Team Yak Rescue, a silk scarf. The tea was often butter and salt and the scarves were simple, but the gesture was so meaningful. At the end of the "escape ceremonies," we would all have scarves piled up to our noses, a bit ridiculous, but extremely soft.

My adventures in Langtang also bought meaningful examples of selflessness and generosity. One of my favorite quotes is, "If we all give, we all receive." This idea may seem a bit idealistic, but if we consider it a spectrum, with the opposite end being, "if we all take everything, there will be nothing left," then somewhere along there is the idea that if we all give a little more than we think we can, those who need it most will receive more than they have now. Simple idea, but maybe a bit harder in practice. Generosity will always outshine greed, whether we hear about it or not, and the selfless will always triumph over the selfish. I talked to a man recently named Baska at a cafe in India. I told him of our adventures in Langtang and for some reason he didn't believe me that anyone would fund something like this out of nothing more than love for humanity. He refused to agree that there were people that would do things for free. He was convinced Doc PJ was working for someone else in the sole interest of bettering himself. There's a scary thought-- if he was right, that would mean there aren't any more genuine people in the world interested in the well being of others for the sake of simply that. I disagree fully with this pessimistic, fearful perception of humanity, I'd like to think this is a fundamental human instinct to help those around us. Don't we naturally want to help those who we see are in pain whether they are right in front of us or on some picture? Seeing someone's suffering causes an emotional reaction in almost every one of us. That genuine compassion is understood by nearly everyone, but only acted on, most often, by the few most strongly affected. And someone like Doc PJ is a perfect example of that, one of many all over the world, who take their wealth and share it for the sake of the less fortunate. After all, "wealth should serve humanity, not vice-versa," says the Dalai Lama. I feel that if there is an understanding of the difference between what we want and what we need, we may be able to begin to live with what we need and no more. We may begin to see the importance and benefit  in sharing our excesses in life and collectively realize the joy that comes from generosity. Maybe the long lasting satisfaction that comes from this selflessness will bring a feeling of connectedness with it, that many of us direly need. This is much more attractive to me when compared to the emptiness that almost immediately follows the five minutes of happiness that comes from buying the third TV. It may seem a little far fetched, a pipe dream maybe, but maybe its possible for this simple idea to go viral and change the mindset of a whole population. This is the basis of the paradigm shift we all seem to be watching and waiting for. Unfortunately it doesn't come from sitting on the couch, it starts with each one of us working toward the common goal. It's a simple idea and an often contagious practice. This needs to start at the grassroots level by people like Doc PJ, who are not looking for fame or recognition from anyone, but only to help those less off. As George Carlin once said, if you have selfish, ignorant citizens, you're going to get selfish, ignorant leaders. It is these practices that will make each one of us an inspiration to those around us as well as ourselves. And it is this inspiration that helps us find beauty in everything around us.

Nepal and beauty go hand in hand. Every village we went through along the border I couldn't help but find the beauty in almost everything around me. It was such a genuine experience and I couldn't seem to get the smile of my face. It became easier and easier to find beauty, even in the simple things. One idea I thought about a lot was the fact that I was only a very small and seemingly insignificant part in the timeline of many of these people's lives as they were in mine. As I watched the local people go about their day to day life, which seemed so peaceful and simple, I couldn't help but notice the incredibly striking, beautiful facial features of the young Nepali and Tibetan people. I would then notice the weathered, leather-like facial features of the elderly, both filled with so much life, passion and history. I couldn't help but try to piece together their lives. It was really hard to piece together the lives of a people I had so little understanding about. I was so attracted and fascinated by their lives and how they lived in such a trying and extreme environment yet made it look so simple. They all seemed to walk around with ease, but also carried so much emotion inside, there was a depth that I can't really explain in every one of their eyes, both young and old.

With the constant visions of beauty came amazing moments of inspiration and hope for the future. Nearly every person I met in Nepal reminded me of these things that give me hope. I've found that it is an inspiration to just be in the same room as great people. Great people like everyone who was part of the He-Man Jungle Doctor Crew like Doc PJ, Mipsang Lama, Jangmu Lama, Thiley Lama and the rest of the Lama family. It was such a honor to meet the Lama family. Mipsang and Jangmu are the son and daughter of Thiley Lama. Thirteen generations ago Thiley's first ancestor arrived in what is now known as the Langtang valley. At that time there was nothing there except the massive Himalayan peaks all around. His ancestor saw there what he had seen in a dream and decided to settle. Since that time each generation following him has ruled over the valley and helped to preserve Tibetan Buddhism in the region by building temples and gompas to honor the many Buddhas. So I guess you could say their family is the royal family of the Langtang region. Thiley's grandfather was the last king of Langtang before all of the regions of this area of the Himalaya were united and called Nepal. While we were there we had the honor of meeting Thiley's mother who could be considered the last Queen of Langtang. When she walked into the room the day we were to leave, the rest of the people in the room stepped aside and the mood instantly changed and everyone became silent. It was such a beautiful sight to see the way everyone there acted around her and showed her such respect, I could see how honored everyone was that she decided to make an appearance. She was  92 years old, tiny, weathered and reminded me of my Grandma. She sat on the floor in the middle of the room next to the stove and talked to Thiley and Doc PJ intently in Tibetan. Doc PJ, Siri and I all sat listening like we could understand every word. The emotion that filled the room was unmistakable and I could see tears almost form in Doc PJ's eyes. When she was finished talking she stood up and everyone around stood up with her. Doc PJ and I watched as she walked away and he told me that meeting her was more meaningful than his meeting with The Dalai Lama two weeks before. He also talked of how she represented a big transition in that region. A transition between what the way of the elders and those who came before and what the future generations would know and the way they would change the area, all this while we looked out at the village of Langtang and watched all the new tourist lodges being built for the future influx of trekkers to the area. It was an extremely powerful experience I will not ever forget and it is a perfect example of the power of being in the same room with great people, and the inspiration and beauty that comes with it. 

After everyone prepared to leave the Lama's house I walked to the next house over that looked like it could have been built hundreds of years ago and probably was. This was the home of Thiley's mother. My intention was to take the scarf I had with me and hang it on the door as a sign of respect and to show how grateful I was to have  had the chance to meet the last Queen of Langtang. As I walked up the rickety stairs, I was invited in and I happily accepted. I entered into her dim home and greeted her with Namaste and offered the scarf; she looked at me with eyes filled full of emotion and confusion as to why I was there. She accepted the scarf and quickly pulled the old soot covered scarf she was wearing off and handed it to me. I said "tu chi chay" (thank you in Tibetan), shook her hand and left. I will never forget that experience and will probably tell the story for years to come. Another powerful example of Nepal's beauty and the beauty that I am surrounded by everyday.

Thiley himself was also an incredibly inspiring man. He chose to move from his family's peaceful home in the beautiful Langtang valley to the chaotic city of Kathmandu for his job. Not only that, but he had a job that most other people wouldn't have the capacity for or have the will to do it. Thiley is The Dalai Lama's Ambassador to Tibetan refugees in Nepal, His Holinesses second hand man in Nepal, you might say. It is Thiley's responsibility to look after the Tibetan people in the area and help a people that sometimes may not want to help themselves and to play a very key role in a situation that more often than not seems quite hopeless. He has regular meetings with officials from every group and country involved. He has to deal with differing view points from China, India, Nepal, Tibet, and the western world and try to find a middle ground in what seems to me to be almost impossible when you look at all the factors, political, economical, social, ignorance of the people and an occupying country that believes religion is poison. All these factors put a country like Tibet, which is almost entirely Buddhist, in a very difficult situation, and any one fighting for the people most effected by it in a seemingly hopeless situation. So anyone who voluntarily takes on such an important role in society is more than an inspiration to me. I wish him the best luck and Karma.

The last story on my pilgrimage through Nepal is set in the city of Kathmandu, and is another story of inspiration and beauty. As I flew over the city in route to the airport, I looked out the window at something I have never seen from a plane. Outside and below was a chaotic group of mostly brown buildings scattered along the hill sides. It was one of the most beautiful cities I had ever seen from above. We got off the plane near the only terminal and walked into a small brick building, not exactly what you would think of when you think of an international airport. We went through customs, gathered our bags, negotiated a taxi price and were off. As we entered the city I was in awe, it all seemed so foreign, this was the third world, I thought to my self, it's real and I am here. It was a lot to take in, and needless to say, hard to grasp. I could instantly feel myself falling in love with it and all its chaos. There was so much beauty in the old brick buildings, some half built and others falling apart. Between the buildings were narrow dirty streets, and all around us motorcycles, some piled four deep, swerved between us and oncoming cars. Our taxi driver tried repeatedly, often in a split second decision, to squeeze between the bus on our left and the oncoming bus on our right while at the same time swerving around the cow in the middle of the street. The Nepali police in full riot gear stood watching. Nothing seemed orderly or logical, it was beautiful chaos. 

After an hour our taxi driver dropped us at Ama Ghar, the children's home Siri and I would spend six weeks volunteering at. Ama Ghar (Motherly Home, in Nepali) had 47 brothers and sisters, 5 house mothers, 2 uncles, and Aunti Bonnie, who kept the Ama Ghar fabric together. By the end of our stay we felt like family ourselves, brother Neal and sister Siri. While I was there, I saw so much potential in a lot of the kids despite their individual circumstances outside of the Ama family. Many of the children have had hard upbringings and many are still dealing with a lot of emotional stress. Many of their lives outside of Ama Ghar are harder than any child should have to deal with and those circumstances often force them to grow up quickly, and as a result, miss out on being a kid. Ama Ghar plays such a crucial role in these kids life by giving them a comfortable place to live and food on the table as well as a network of people who genuinely want to see them better their lives. It also provides many of the children with hope that may have otherwise not been there, and the opportunity to do great things in their lives. Many of the children may be less privileged than kids from the western world, but I'm not sure if comparing them to children of the western world is appropriate. It would seem to me that a better comparison, if we must compare, are all the other kids in Nepal and other developing countries who don't have access to their fundamental needs, much less a good education. Regardless, there is so much hope and in my opinion, it's not false hope. Every one of the kids at Ama Ghar has the potential to do great things and it only takes 1 in 100 to accomplish what they set out to do. If that one person makes their dreams come true, then there are 99 others who should feel inspired to do great things themselves. While I was there, I saw so much beauty in each one of my brothers and sisters, and whether they no it or not each one of them inspired me and changed, forever, my perception of the world around me. My brothers and sisters at Ama Ghar have all helped me see that there is always beauty and there is always hope, and as they say, it is in the eyes of the beholder. 

It's been over a month since I crossed the border into India from Nepal and I look back at my experience in there as only the beginning of a life long friendship. I find myself still contemplating all the things I witnessed and how those things have undoubtedly changed my perception of the world around me. It was truly a priceless experience. There are so many emotions tied to the experience and I often find it hard to express in words my feelings associated with Nepal. My time there created such a strong bond that I can only relate to a feeling of being home. This farewell to Nepal is only a mere au revoir, until next time.

Colorful India

Our trip through India was a whirlwind of activity and chaos, as we travelled from Kathmandu to Varanasi to Rishikesh to Dharamsala to Delhi to Mumbai to Delhi. We spent a lot of time on trains and in rickshaws, and had a few memorable near-death experiences by bus. Here are some photos of the events in between.

Some of the unique wildlife along the Nepal-India border.

Pilgrims coming to worship the great Ganga, Varanasi

There is a place for everything in Varanasi. Here, the freshly cleaned cloth is laid out to dry. 10 feet away is the ledge where everyone poops, and beyond that is the place to get your head shaven.

Bathers and worshippers placing prayers in the water during the evening ceremony, Varanasi

Floating prayers

The wide and beautiful Ganga at sunset, Rishikesh

A lonely cow near the Ram Jula bridge, Rishikesh

Beautiful illegal art at the Beatles Ashram, Rishikesh

An homage to many great spiritual and musical leaders, Beatles Ashram, Rishikesh

The Sri Ved Niketan Ashram crew (Germany, Taiwan, Scotland, New Zealand), Rishikesh

The beautiful dilapidated structures, Beatles Ashram, Rishikesh

Mmm, plastic bag! You can tell which cows eat the most garbage by the amount of mucus exiting their noses

Sri Ved Niketan Ashram, home of Charlie Alpha, Rishikesh

Tibetan-style meeting room at the Chonor House, McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala

The Dalai Lama's inner temple, McLeod Ganj. He gets the big golden chair. The art in here is breathtaking.

A view of the mountains surrounding Dharamsala

Prayer wheels surrounding the Dalai Lama's temple. Om Ma Ni Pad Me Hum

India's original Hard Rock Cafe, complete with motorcycle and stylish belt buckle

Me so generously giving the local animals a taste of my delicious rice pudding!

Neal posing at the Red Fort, Old Delhi

The intricate inlay at the Red Fort

One of the many beautiful water channels running the grounds of the Red Fort

We bought this beard for only 50 rupees!! Sadly, the guards at the Taj Mahal gave it the no-no finger.

Our picturesque photo at the Taj, containing as few people as possible on a typically crowded day

One of the many amazing birds of India, drinking from the sprinkler

Neal blinded by the beautiful white marble

A rare side view of the Taj Mahal, Agra

Neal pulling off the hobo look as we sit between cars on the 4-hour train ride home