The Roomies

The roomies were not only acomplices for Mac's fashion show but, my sassy enterage for the ten day experience. Jenn, a New York publisher is a wonderfully sarcastic and amazingly honost woman in her mid twenties who shares in my wacky dietary restrictions and general ridiculousness. Adva, a 22 year old Isralie soldier is small and dark with piles of curly hair who turned heads on the bus when she stripped down to a sexy white, rhinestone studded, chain-deco one-piece (the kind with serious fabric missing from the sides). The saucyness of the suit prevailed whence we climbed into plastic rafts for some .5 grade water rafting. It was Adva who initiated the water fight not a hot second into the ride and poor Jen's recently straightened hair was instantly crimped. The three of us lived together, sat together on the buses, ate our meals together, and toured the city together. Adva taught Jen and I the local secrets of Tim Tam and Coffee and Bamba and Coke. Jen and I were seriously chillin with the hippest of Isralie soldiers and we were all the more cool for it.

Tim Tam is a chocolate covered chocolate cookie with god knows what inside but it is miraculous. I am guessing a waffer of some sort because to fully experience the decadence of Tim Tam, you nibble off the bottom left and the top right corners, stick the bottom half in a cup of coffee and suck like a straw. After collecting a mouth full of coffee you take the soaked Tim Tam out of the coffee and pop it in your mouth. Un-fucking-believeable pardon my French but seriously - you must try this. We got the full Tim Tam experience the second night of the trip when we chilled at a Kibutz. We stayed in small dorm like apartments on a green very similar to a quad, right near the cafateria. Hello camp. We had just experienced our first taste of Isralie culture in the rec room where we were taught two traditional dances. I forget the name of the first one but I assure those of you who participated in any group folk dancing have replicated these boxy moves. The second one was none other than, the hora. Hava Nagila played over and over and over again as we grape vined it to the left, and to the right, and ran to the middle arms up over our heads, and down to our knees as we backed that ass up right back to where we started and then, the can can kick with a clap over our head. I swear to Moses had not every other person in the room at some point in their youth frequent cheesy American Bar Mitzvahs I would have excused myself from the dance. And lets be serious, I love dancing and I have no problem breaking the icy dance-floor but the hora? So when that was done Adva and I got down to some real Isralie tunes and I practiced my Zumba shuffle moves and some shimmies that are more socially acceptable in these parts. The girl dances like woah and that's when I knew I found my other half in Israel. Not only that, but she turned me on to a hair product that is delic!

In all seriousness, Adva is a truley loveable girl who for some reason I really clicked with and when you find people you can share a soul with (mind you this connection was made before the koolaid was distributed) eneries are contageous. We fed off each other's enthusiasm the entire trip and Jenn balanced in the middle perfectly. I couldn't have asked for better roommates and reveled in the chance to be myself with these girls. So we took the dance party back to the quad, plugged in someone's ipod to some small speakers some genius brought with and shook it to the local vibes. About half the group pushed three picnic tables together and sat drinking wine, beer, coffee and teas and of course, eating Tim Tam. Adva made a big production at one end of the picnic table, calling to attention the group to witness the big event. Next, she called up the roomies to indulge and oh yum.

Second Isralie secret, the Bamba and Coke. Bamba is like a cross between a cheese-puff and a rice cake except that it is made entirely from peanuts. It taste like peanutbutter but looks like packing foam. It's crunchy and delicious and our Guide, Dani, swears all Celiacs are obsessed with Bamba. So, one night in Jerusalem we were restricted to the perimiters of the hotel and a group of us got together to play cards, as all campers at some point do. It was late after Shabatt so our games lacked most anything fun (we already drank all the wine) but thankfully the bar did serve a $7 coke. Grab a handfull of Bamba, chomp down, get all the peanut bits caked in between your teeth and then take a swig of coke. Ohh yeay Pop Rocks. Your mouth fizzes and the coke washes away the excess Bamba. So, not nearly as luxurious as Tim Tam but, still fun. As for the card game, it was pretty lame but we played in teams so the banter and trash talk made me happy. I learned some generous curse words in Hebrew and got some serious practice in. We also bet masages (winner recieves, loser gives) but somehow most people never delivered. The night ended quite late for Shabatt, which consisted of a shitty hotel meal and a group of us lighting short white candles and half-assing a prayer. I tell ya, for an organization trying to re-kindle the Judaism, they really dropped the ball with our group. After we lit candles and passed around a cup of wine for 50 mouths, we held an Oneg which is a post-Shabat dinner get together. We all brought our wine and desert and had a little party. But when one of the peer leaders introduced the lamest game...ever...called...Wha...we left.

Jen, Adva and I were usually the last ones to bed, climbing in anywhere around 2:30-4:00 am. only to rise at 7 (unless you were Jen, who wok eat 5:30) for breakfast. Needless to say exhaustion overwhelemed us all but we got our naps in every few hours on the long bus rides.