Israel, Taglit Birthright experience is over and my lack of blogging is a reflection of the fast-paced craziness of the last ten days, most of which I will attempt to summarize now. I will be traveling on my own for the next two weeks, so I will have ample time to share the shalom series' squeal, memoirs of the homeland.
When I got to JFK to meet my tour group I got really scared. Not the good pre-camp-I-hope-my-bunk-mates-like-me butterflies I'm used to but a painful, heart sinking "ohhh shit" feeling that comes when (picture this) at the car unloading at the passenger drop off point at the airport are two skinny blonds with straightened hair (trust me, you can spot anything fake) in clothes similar to what Danise and I would wear to a Spanish disco-tech, each with a huge suitcase, a Vera Bradley duffel bag and designer clutch. Their make up hid their faces so I couldn't really judge their personalities from their expressions...or maybe it was the glare from the obsessive amount of jewlery they were wearing that made it hard to see them. Either way, I blinked twice and took my hand away from the interior door handle. Germain, smiled, laughed, and told me to get out of the car and make nice.
A half dozen dead-fish hand-shakes later I realized there were multiple Birthright trips leaving and the Outdoor Israel (hippy jews) crew were located in a different area, not to be confused with the Oranim (jappy jews) group. I quickly bonded with everyone else with back-packing gear and we took a collective sigh of relief that we were not with those other groups. The entire airport process was a mess though and I can't say for sure if it was because we were a group of hundreds of kids (each group is 40 ish) or because El Al is very concerned with security. Either way, each of us were interviewed before we were given our boarding passes by El Al reps. Forget, "did anyone give you anything to pack in your bag." These guys meant business and I got scared again. I was asked about where I was coming from, who I stayed with in New York, if they lived with family. What did they do for a living? What did I do? Why was I going to Israel? Do I have family there? Am I Jewish? What is my Rabbi's name? What holidays do I celebrate? Why do we celebrate Chanukah? It went on. I almost cried. I couldn't remember Germain's name, or how to say the phrase "8 candles." I kept thinking about where my eyes went when I thought about an answer. Was it the top left that meant you were thinking of a lie or was it bottom right? What was I doing? I ended up being escorted through security because I was losing it. But I didn't have it as bad as others. One woman on my trip's boyfriend has brown skin. They were both detained for near an hour being questioned.
My intro to everyone = Jewish was almost immediate. I don't believe one person in line for the El Al security check was of any other blood and if they weren't returning home, they were off to explore their roots. It felt good to be among people of the same creed, especially considering most of us are usually the minority. Happy to be with my fellow Jews I settled into my seat in on the plane with some women on my trip. The flight was miserable. It was full of Taglit Birhright participants of all ages, including the sugar high 18-22 year olds who were two beats short of a impromptu dance party in the aisles. The movie selection was weak, and Miley Cyrus's big face took up the tiny screen for four channels. Four out of eight. All of a sudden, many men get out of their chairs and I am a nervous flier so I immediately paid attention to what was going on. They couldn't possibly be about to jump into the dance party. Were they going to stone the kids or fulfill some other type of organized terror? I looked closer and they all were dressed in dark clothes. A gang. They all were very hairy. And shuffling around. They were digging into their pockets. I was getting really nervous. Then they all turned around and started to walk towards the back of the plane. Shits going down. I was mentally questioning everyone else's sanity for allowing these people to take over our plane. I whipped around in my seat to watch them in case I could save the day at the last minute. I saw the kepots on the back of their heads and the long curls. They were Hasidic Jews and it was time to pray. They reached into the pockets for prayers and to wrap themselves with tfelin. I laughed and shook my head. Not the worst place in the world to be when terror is about to strike...in the air with some of the most serious chosen ones.
I spent the rest of the flight socializing with a young man who is spending six weeks on a Kibutz. He didn't want to rise early to milk the cows (farming was the main point of this particular Kibutz, they all have different agendas) so he requested a job playing with children. His long blond surfer hair screamed trouble (well, actually it was the headband pulling his hair back that really did it) and I knew I was in for it when an hour into the conversation he offered up his single room if I wanted to visit. HoT. I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't going to Israel share a bed with a kid who usually split his holidays between the Hamptons and the Hollywood Hills no matter how many sick cars his uncle had and let him drive whenever he wanted, even to go party. I decided to keep talking to him though because I figured I could get out a few laughs and I did.
The group met in Ben Gurion Airport, met our two guides, Ashley, a 22 year old attention whore and Jenny, a conservative New York Lawyer. Our Israeli guide was Argentinian, 42, and we'll get into him later. The group consisted of mostly 26 year old women teachers. There were four couples on the trip, one married, one engaged. Of the 41 participants there were 10 men (again four of them in relationships) and the other six made up a motley crew to remember. One of my favorites, Jason, was tall, dark with a bad ass mustache pushing handle-bar. His smooth jazz radio voice confused everyone and when he put on aviators he looked and sounded like a Porn star.
My internet time is running out but stay tuned for the details of the actual trip!
Much love,
MK
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