Yalla!
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Before coming to Israel, I was familiar with the word yalla (“let’s go” or “hurry up”) only because it’s the name of Penn’s belly-dancing and drum-playing troupe. Now here in Nazareth, I hear the word used at least 20 times a day by annoyed teachers who want their students to move it, by excited students egging on their peers, by hustling parents who are irritated with their kids, etc. etc. The word yalla is, apparently, a shortened version of the traditional Arabic phrase Ya Allah, which literally means “Oh God,” and it’s used as a slang term by communities across the Middle East, including by Jewish people in Israel.
Travelling with the other Israel Teaching Fellows generally requires a lot of patient (or not so patient) yallas. That was true a couple weeks ago when BINA, our host organization for Nazareth and Migdal Ha’emek, took all of its program participants to Caesarea, a town located on the coast between Tel Aviv and Haifa.
Caesarea was a small Phoenician village in the 3rd-4th centuries BC, but Herod the Great, the King of Judaea under the Romans, rebuilt the city in around 22 BC. He dedicated the city to the Roman emperor Augustus Caesar, and aimed to make the city one of the most technologically savvy in the world, presiding over the construction of two huge breakwaters, baths, temples, a stadium for gladiator games, and a theater overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.
We ran races in the gladiator stadium…
After Herod’s death, Caesarea became the Roman capital of the Judaea Province, and Pontius Pilate served as the prefect (!) from AD 26 to 36. We saw the Pilate stone in Caesarea, a 1st century slab of limestone with an inscription that mentions Pontius Pilate — it is the only known artifact connected to Pontius Pilate that dates back to Pilate’s lifetime.
We spent most of the morning and early afternoon exploring the ruins of Caesarea and then headed to Kfar Tikva (“Village of Hope”). The village is run like a kibbutz is the home of over 200 adults with disabilities. It provides the people living there with opportunities to work in the village and/or in outside communities and to enjoy leisure and cultural activities. One of the main businesses tied to the village is the Tulip Winery, which employs many of the village’s residents in the harvest of grapes and production of the wines. We tasted a few wines at the long table — mmm delicious.
The following week, I took a day off from school to attend a Taub Center (http://taubcenter.org.il/) conference in Israel entitled “Innovations in Poverty Policy.” A couple weeks beforehand, I had seen that my college friend, Tamar, posted on an Israeli Facebook page about the conference (she works for the Taub Center), and it seemed like a good opportunity to learn about wealth inequality and poverty in Israel.
The conference was located adjacent to the Montefiore Windmill, which was designed as a flour mill and originally built in 1857. The town of Mishkenot Sha’ananim (“Peaceful habitation”) was built there three years later, the first Jewish neighborhood in Jerusalem built outside of the walls of the Old City. The area itself is beautiful, and from the windmill you can see Mt. Zion, the walls of the Old City, and Dormition Abbey.
The conference featured panel discussions and individual presentations, including discussions on poverty and poverty policy in Israel, a social capital approach to poverty, child development accounts, and universal basic income. The statistics on poverty in Israel were pretty extraordinary — I learned that over 40% of Israelis can’t cover their monthly household expenses, and that there are over 1.7 million people living in poverty in Israel. Also interesting were the remarks of a Bedouin man from the Negev, who talked about the unique challenges that accompany fighting poverty in Bedouin communities, and about the necessity of investing in new industries in the Negev that will employ Bedouins.
That night, my friend and I grabbed pizza at a local joint, visited with her fiance in Jerusalem, and then headed out for a night at the shuk (“market”). The shuk, which full of venders selling fruits, vegetables, pastries and breads, dried fruits and nuts during the day, is party central at night. The stalls and stores close down, and in their place pop up bars, chic little restaurants, and even some makeshift clubs. We went to a little shop called the “Beer Bazaar” and set up camp in the narrow lane on small chairs, using an egg crate (covered with a checkered table cloth) as a table. We shared a flight of local beers and hung out there talking for a while — my cousin Meir ran into us there.
The next morning, my friend and I got bagels at a local bagel cafe (called “Bagel Cafe” ) and I left to run some errands. By this time, it had become clear that I had seriously underestimated Israel’s winter weather and that I would need some more serious footwear. My friend gave me a store recommendation, and I took the bus there after breakfast. It started pouring on my way there, and by the time I reached the shop, my socks (which I was wearing with sandals) were soaked.
The store was a cozy family-run establishment, and I quickly found the shoes that I was looking for (the store owner made me try them on with their socks). I bought them, ran across the road to buy some new socks, and then walked up the street (in a torrential downpour) to meet the bus.
By the time I arrived at David’s I was a soggy mess — it was really nice to be inside, and soon enough my Uncle Fred, Meir, and Meir’s girlfriend Leanne arrived as well. Familyyyyy :)
My cousins David and Yael made a very impressive Thanksgiving dinner that night, complete with turkey, stuffing, yams and marshmallows, homemade breads, pie and salads galore. Wow. And so nice to celebrate the best holiday abroad…
The next morning, I went with Yael and the kids to meet up with Uncle Fred and David at synagogue, and we spent the rest of the day hanging out, playing a more than slightly absurd card game called Guillotine (you collect noble heads), and eating.
The following weekend, my cousins in Afula took me to Hamat Gader, a site with hot springs and (more) Roman-era ruins in a little nook valley with huge cliffs on one side and a view of Jordan on the other. The site is located about 10K from the point at which Israel, Syria, and Jordan meet, and is right below the Golan Heights.
Hamat Gader was a hugely popular recreation site from its creation in the 2nd century up until the 9th century, boasting a sizable Roman bath, a theater, and a large synagogue that was built in the 5th century.
Before the 1948 War, the Palestinian Arab village al-Hamma existed on the site, and after the war, it was decided that the area would be part of the demilitarized zone between Israel and Syria. Despite its status as a DMZ, Syrian troops engaged in numerous military aggressions in the area. The General staff of the IDF decided that —in order to preserve Israel’s security and interests in the region — Israel should exert its own military authority over the land. So in 1951, Israeli soldiers disguised as a policemen set out to establish Israeli control there. When Syrian soldiers confronted the Israelis and the Israelis pressed forward, the Syrians opened fire, killing seven IDF soldiers. The following day, Israeli planes bombed al-Hamma’s police station and a Syrian position. This became what is now known as the “al-Hamma Incident.”
Six years later, during the Six Day War, Israel took control of the site and turned it into a large tourist attraction, complete with a resort and spa, crocodile farm, etc.
It feels like every time I do a little Google search about a site that I visit, I find an “incident” complete with its own military and socio-political history.
Hamat Gader was beautifully designed, with a huge roof covering a section of the pool. We swam in the hot water, snacked, and hung out in the sun for a couple hours. It was a Saturday, and so the visitors that day were mostly Arab and secular Jewish families.
Then we walked around the grounds, checking out the crocodiles and Roman ruins.
We had some extra time before sundown, so we drove up into (onto?) the Golan Heights before coming home. I felt very content being a passenger in the car — driving up those steep, narrow, windy roads to the top of the Golan plateau really wouldn’t have been my cup of tea.
The scenery and views from the plateau were stunning.
After passing orchards and farmland in the Golan, we drove back down the cliff (?) and stopped the car to take in the Sea of Galilee.
We stopped for dinner on the way home at a famous hummus restaurant in the North — we had falafel, fries, hummus (of course) and salads galore, followed up with coffee and a new (for me) Arab dessert called ashtalieh, which was served with rose water.
Last weekend, our organization BINA took us to the West Bank to meet with Jewish settlers in Ariel, Shiloh and Ma’ale Mikhmas — this is already a long post and I feel like this trip warrants more than an overview, so I’m not going to touch it here.
This past week, a teacher from my school invited me to her home village of “Nein,” which is close to Afula. According to the Gospel of Luke, Nein is the site where Jesus came upon a funeral procession and a crying widow. According to the Gospel, Luke brought the dead man back to life and reunited him with his mother.
The teacher picked me up after my internship in Nazareth and we drove to her village. Her parents live on the first floor of their house, and her brother’s family lives on the second floor. The family was incredibly warm and welcoming towards me — most of them spoke a bit of English, and they showed me pictures of their extended family on their phones, as well as their early 20th-century photos of the family on the walls. The grandmother made a huge dinner of moghrabieh, a heavy, savory meal of spiced couscous. This was absolutely delicious.
In other news:
My school continues to celebrate birthdays, holidays, ordinary days — you name it!
The teacher who supervises me had a big birthday party with her homeroom class to celebrate 3 months-worth of birthdays. She sat the birthday kids at the center table and cut into the many cakes and pastries that she and the kids brought from home. This was followed by a rousing round of musical chairs.
Last Sunday was the holiday of Mawlid, the day commemorating the birth of the Prophet Mohammad. The other English teacher at the school told me that it’s not a feast day for Muslims, but rather a day that Muslims (at least in Israel) go to the mosque to pray.
This teacher ran a school assembly to mark the day, where she played Prophet Mohammad trivia with the students, reading questions about the Prophet’s life and calling on students to answer. Students who answered correctly were able to pick a small gift out of a basket.
From time to time, the students also make mana’eesh (like a zaatar pizza) in their classrooms to have as a snack.
And to celebrate the holiday season, the teachers have been bringing in treats to share among themselves.
The first dessert is a Christmassy jelly/cream layer cake, and the second is a kind of porridge called burbara (the name “Barbara” in Arabic). Burbara is made for the feast of Santa Barbara , which commemorates the persecution and resilience of Saint Barbara. It’s said in some communities that Saint Barbara was at one time locked up in a storage room with only wheat berries to eat, and thus the dish uses a base of wheat berries, which is mixed with coconut, pomegranate seeds, raisins, and anise seeds.
In other news:
Nazareth has been seriously gearing up for Christmas.
The Christmas market is scheduled to start this week — very excited about that!
And I got into law school!! Penn Law bound, Class of 2020 :). My flatmate celebrated with me over a beer that night. I had been wanting to try a Taybeh beer, which is brewed in the town of Taybeh (surprise!), close to Ramallah. Although the founders of the brewery were all men, the current head brewer is the daughter of one of these founders — cheers to women brewers!
