Israel 2015, part 3 -- Ein Gedi

Tuesday was, for better or worse, another very long afternoon of driving. Along the way we made a quick stop in the neighborhood where U.’s mother had been raised and found a couple of family landmarks. However, time was short and we had to keep moving. The last hour or so of our drive came during a beautiful sunset, but then we had to drive on narrows roads around hills in a black night. We couldn’t even see The Dead Sea on our left because buildings or street lights of any kind were few and far between.

At last we arrived at a hostel which, honestly, was not the friendliest place we had ever stayed, but we were relieved to have two whole nights in the place. In addition, we were grateful to find a full buffet dining hall awaiting us. 

While in the dining hall we spotted an interesting group sitting at another table. There were two women. One had dark hair like mine and a little girl with curly hair. The second woman had long red hair, a young daughter and a baby boy in a high chair. The group reminded ND and me both of ourselves and our camping friend emarcy who has a little girl and was (at the time of this encounter) very very pregnant. The group we saw was disheveled too, so like us when we go camping each summer.

We emailed emarcy about the little party and she responded that we very well may have seen our camping “doubles.” We couldn’t know for sure yet as they had not yet learned the gender of the baby, but we might know very soon because her contractions seemed to be starting!

(Sure enough, a day and a half later we finally got the announcement that she had had a baby boy!)

I had been looking forward for some time to the day we would wake up in Ein Gedi. We had an open schedule until 4:00 PM. I had planned this deliberately because I knew that 1. Visiting the Dead Sea was a top priority for ND and 2. We had been told that children often lose interest in the Dead Sea once the salts seeped into unknown cuts and made it too annoying to stay. So I had collected some other options as well. Still, it became another fully packed and exhausting day.

We realized when we looked at the map just how close Masada was. I had not originally planned to share its history with ND yet. The angst-ridden story of mass suicide seems more engaging and romantic to teenage sensibilities. I know that as a teen I had been very moved by the story and do remember the morning ascent I did during the Israel half of my March of the Living experience in 1994. However, here we were again, so close to Masada. It would be a shame to miss it.

Down the snake path

We took the tram up to save time and right away began searching for artifacts that just maybe the archaeologists had missed. Alas, finding nothing more than our imaginations, we had to depend instead on the diagrams showing how the buildings used to look to give us a vague sense of what was what. Later, when discussing our favorites of Masada we each named a bathhouse that was still filled with ancient Roman mosaic tiles. 

Not wanting to miss out on the experience of The Snake Path we took the long walk down and found the day was getting hotter. Walking down was more exhausting than expected. We made it though and hit the road for Ein Bokek.

In our family, U. was the only one who had ever been to the Dead Sea. His memory of it had been entirely about how hot and uncomfortable it was. So he was surprised to see the enormous hotels and the nice beach we found. The walk from the parking lot to beach was shorter than I have ever experienced in any beach and had little changing booths right on the beach. It was about 70 degrees Farenheit, a little chilly for a day at the beach but we certainly weren't the only ones that day. As in any beach or swimming pool it took some time to brave up to the cold. No option of dunking your head to acclimate as it's dangerous to get the Dead Sea water on your face (and tastes horrible)! U. was the first one to be brave enough to completely sit down on the water and we were all delighted when he said the water wouldn't let him touch the ground underneath. Soon I too had the nerve to lay back and let the water scoot me around and we discovered ND could sit on me like a raft.

It was sad when the time came to leave, but we were freezing cold. Shivering in the car on our way to the next adventure U. marveled,

"Wow, we've actually done it. We're driving through the desert with the heat on."

Like the night before, we took a long and winding road to Kfar Hanokdim. This is a Bedouin tourist attraction which we'd learned about when searching for camel rides. In retrospect I realize we planned it for rather an odd time as our reservation was at 4 and was meant to include a camel ride and "Bedouin Hospitality." When reserving we had chosen against the overnight stay as we didn't think we'd quite be comfortable sleeping in tents in such a new environment. (The video on the site was not available when we booked so you'll get more information from watching it than we had before we went!)

I'd really been looking forward to this activity but, since we came at an odd time, felt really anxious about how few others were there. We were in the middle of the desert with nothing much in sight except this Bedouin camp, were unclear exact what to expect, whether Bedouin kashrut was the same as our kashrut, and afraid to say or ask the wrong things to offend. I was also nervous about driving back yet again on winding mountain roads in the dark.

In any case, we started with the camel ride -- ND with me and U on his own. This mode of travel certainly felt steady but slow. Going up and down hills was a challenge as the "saddle" or whatever we sat in, became quite steep. I thought of the early matriarchs and patriarchs depending on camels for travel, especially Rachel and how uncomfortable it must have been if "the way of women" really was upon her and she wasn't just hiding Laban's idols.

After a half hour ride up and down a sand dune, we returned and were escorted to a tent where we were offered tea and coffee that had been cooked over a fire. Here a Bedouin man spoke to us about Bedouin life, the migratory existence, arranged marriages, food and so on. We were once again the only ones present so I thought hard for questions I could ask to show our interest and to be polite. We had been told that dinner would be reserved too but all I saw was tea and coffee. The silence that came after some time in the tent was awkward, so I excused us, saying we needed to leave before the sun went down completely.

We bade Salaam and headed for the car only to be followed by the woman who had made our reservation.

"We have more for you," she said, insisting we stay, and led us to an enormous tent we hadn't seen before. This tent held tables in a dining hall and we were seated in the back where the tent flap had been lifted to reveal the sunset that was dropping at that moment.

"Even if we leave now we won't be back before dark" U. said and we resolved to enjoy ourselves.

Course after course... first vegetables, then meat in beautiful arrangements. There was enough food to feed 8 comfortably and have them groan from overindulging. Clearly they prepare for larger groups most of the time and didn't downsize just because we were a smaller reservation.

ND who like me aspires to vegetarianism looked to me.

"We don't turn down hospitality like this," I said as I served myself some of the smaller and more appetizing pieces of meat.

A cat made itself at home on the floor between us and cried so pitifully that we gave in and shared with it. (Since she was so good at begging, ND named her "Beggy.")

Our waiter never asked us not to feed her.

That night we came home exhausted.

"Tomorrow" I said, "we don't have to be anywhere until 2. We're sleeping in."