Destination: Teveria

I imagine you are wondering (yet another indication that I have a very vivid imagination) why I haven't posted anything in more than two weeks. There's a very simple reason for that: my phone - which is the device I use to do all of my writing - took a fall two weeks ago, and the screen broke. Although it was still functional, it nevertheless was no longer the optimum input device for composing blog posts, to say the least, since I couldn't see what I was writing. I could easily type my credit card number by accident and never know the difference until my bill begins sporting outrageous charges originating somewhere in the Caribbean. Perhaps that's the same reason why some presidential candidates sound as silly as they do - their speechwriters compose their speeches on computers without screens, and thus they never realize how little sense the speeches make until... no, wait, they never actually find out, since no one (including the speechwriters) is foolish enough to actually listen to presidential candidate speeches. So I guess you'll just have to take my word for it.

Anyway, to make a long story short, I bought a new screen through eBay, had someone bring it to Israel, and then performed open-motherboard surgery on my phone. The "new" screen is actually not as good as the old one - the color is a bit washed out, and there are some marks on the screen. But after having no screen at all for two weeks, I've learned to count my blessings.

Now that I'm up and running again, my two-week absence means I have a lot of catching up to do. There were quite a few noteworthy events that I missed the opportunity to write about, such as when my yeshiva went to Teveria for Shabbos. Also, I didn't get to write anything at all about Chanukah, which unfortunately is over already. I don't know if I'll have the time and patience to catch up on everything (especially since I don't get paid for this kind of thing), but I'll do what I can. We'll start with the Shabbos my yeshiva went to Teveria. To make up for the lack of posts recently, this post will be double the length of my previous posts (I'll let you decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing).

Our trip began on Thursday night, at 2:00 AM JST. (JST stands for Jewish Standard Time, which means you leave a minimum of one half-hour late). The first of four buses pulled up outside the yeshiva building in Yerushalayim, and we began loading up. We would be the only bus leaving at that unearthly hour; the other three buses would be leaving the next morning. The reason for the timing is relatively simple: since we had Friday off anyway, the itinerary included (for those who were interested) a choice of extracurricular activities for Friday morning - either driving an ATV, or touring the North in a jeep. But to get to these activities in time, we needed to leave in the middle of the night, so that we would already be there by morning. The guys who weren't participating in either activity - as well as the avreichim coming with their families - left Yerushalayim the next morning, at an arguably more sane hour.

We traveled on the Israeli version of a coach bus. It is very similar to an American coach bus, except that there is no bathroom on board. But there was another great feature that I wish American coach buses would adopt: a back door. I cannot overemphasize what a great idea a back door is, even better than an on-board bathroom. I've been on quite a few American coach bus Chol Hamoed trips (for instance, the one I wrote about in New Hampshire Report), and believe me: it is SO much more pleasant when you don't have upwards of 50 people tripping over each other and trying to pass each other in an aisle the width of a Fruit-by-the-Foot™, all using the same one door as both the entrance and exit. Maybe someday we can arrange some kind of "intelligence exchange" between Israel and America, like when they trade nuclear secrets or missile technologies or cholent recipes or whatever: American busses will get a back door, and Israeli busses will get a bathroom. We'll even throw in a complimentary case of toilet paper.

Anyway, we arrived in Teveria at around 4:30 AM, at the kever of Rabbi Meir Baal Haness. We had come to daven Shachris before moving on, but it was still to early to daven. Most guys elected to sleep on the bus until we were ready to daven; the rest of us decided to get off the bus and stretch our legs, and check out the mini 24-hour "flea market" outside the kever. There were two vendors there, each with several stands selling soda, ice cream and music CDs, as well as a plethora of Middle-Eastern souvenirs: keychains, wood carvings, tambukas, paintings, scarves, silver goblets, scented candles - I wasn't kidding when I said it was a flea market. I bought a keychain tehillim, a small hand-carved wooden whistle, and a silver birchas habayis plaque.

As the sun came up, we prepared to daven Shachris. The kever itself was still locked, so we davened in the courtyard outside. Later on, when the kever was opened, we went inside to say some tehillim at the grave of the holy Tanna.

For breakfast, we had bagels and cream cheese. You could tell that it was planned by a bunch of guys, and not a woman: there were no plates, napkins, or even knives involved. We basically tore off chunks from our bagels and dunked them into the cream cheese as if it were chumus. Definitely better than nothing, though.

After breakfast, we loaded up the bus and headed for the Kinor hotel. We unloaded our luggage into a storage room, and then whoever was going ATVing got back onto the bus (the guys who were going touring in a jeep stayed there - they would be leaving later on). We then proceeded north toward Moshav Dishon.

When we got there, we were shown that there were three kinds of vehicles available: a standard ATV, a jeep-like vehicle called a Ranger, and another jeep-like vehicle called a Prowler. An ATV is kind of like a motorcycle: both riders sit one behind the other on a "saddle", and both the gas and brakes are operated by hand controls. The Ranger and the Prowler are built more along the lines of a traditional vehicle: the two riders sit side by side in normal seats, and driving is done through an ordinary steering wheel, with gas and brake pedals. The Prowler was officially the more dangerous of the two, since it had a "sport" engine, which means that if you press the gas pedal hard enough, it will start tearing up turf like a backhoe (without actually moving very far). Also, being more top-heavy, it was more likely to flip over if not driven properly.

I chose to drive a Prowler, since it was officially the most dangerous of the vehicles. I figured that I spent my whole childhood participating in all sorts of foolish and dangerous activities (such as spelling bees), so why stop now? Although apparently almost no one else agreed with my line of reasoning, since in the end, my "co-pilot" and I were were the only ones who took a Prowler.

I have to admit that driving an off-road vehicle is quite an experience, especially when your companions are a bunch of real "fun-loving guys", which is defined as "guys who would like nothing better than to rip through the terrain at upwards of 100 miles per hour, leaving trails of flaming mud in their wake". We did have guides riding with us, though, spaced one every three or four vehicles or so, and they kept things more or less normal. We drove for around an hour through all kinds of terrain - woods, fields, paved roads, huge puddles of mud, etc. - before stopping near some kind of stream. Some guys decided it would be a good idea to jump into the stream by swinging from a rope tied to a tree on the bank, but soon regretted their decision when the cold water froze their blood in their veins, turning them into human ice cube trays. But they made it out alive, and soon we were ready to move again. We switched drivers, and started heading back toward our starting point. We took a very different route on the way back - a really bumpy trail that truly put the off-road vehicles' capabilities to the test. Pity I wasn't driving anymore - it sure looked like fun...

We got back to our starting location, parked our various vehicles, thanked the people in charge, and got back on the bus. Upon arriving at the hotel, we found that kugel was being served, and our rooms had already been assigned. Each room contained two regular beds, one folding cot, and one small "sofa" that sort of folded out into something resembling a bed, for a total of four people per room. As luck would have it (or, as we say, it was bashert), I unfortunately got the fold-out sofa thingy, which as it turned out was clearly manufactured in S'dom - I cannot remember ever laying upon such an uncomfortable sleeping surface. Sighing, I figured every room has such a "bed", and Hashem had some good reason why I was destined to be the korban in this particular room. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I would probably sleep well anyway, having not slept a wink Thursday night. (I later turned out to be absolutely right.)

I settled in as best as I could under the circumstances, and went for a self-guided tour of the grounds. The Kinor hotel is located on the shore of the Kineret, but it was rather cloudy on Friday, and thus I didn't really bother going down to the water. The rest of the grounds were quite nice, though. Lots of palm trees, lush green lawns, a basketball court, and even a playground for the little kids. I took some pictures, and then went to get ready for Shabbos.

Our yeshiva davened together in our own shul on the lower level of the Kinor's main building; we then went up to the upper level for the seudah. We all sat together at one end of the huge main dining room. We were a bit worried about the food, since the kugel served on Friday afternoon was kind of lousy (I personally did not taste it, but I was told by those that did that compressed cardboard would no doubt have tasted better), but Baruch Hashem we were quite surprised - the food was actually very good.

The seudos were arguably the best part of the weekend, even better than ATVing. Although we numbered roughly 200 people including the avreichim and their families, there was nevertheless an amazing feeling of camaraderie in the air, as if we were truly one big family. Many of the avreichim's children suddenly gained a whole bunch of new "uncles": it was not at all uncommon to see bochurim holding various babies and playing with various youngsters as if they actually were their own nieces and nephews.

There was also lots of spirited singing, as well as several speeches by various rebbeim, and even some of the bochurim. Those of you who know me well (especially my family members, and my friends from my former yeshiva in Flatbush) will be shocked to learn that I was NOT one of the bochurim that spoke. So far I'm still "lying low", I guess, and have not yet spoken in public since I got to Israel.

Thus the Shabbos passed peacefully and enjoyably. The benchers that were distributed had the words "Shabbos Achdus" written on the front, and I could not agree more: the incredible atmosphere of true brotherly love that permeated the weekend will hopefully stay with us for a long time. Hopefully until Moshiach comes. If not, I guess we'll have to have another such a Shabbos.

I certainly wouldn't mind...