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When I awoke, I was not ready to start a new day. I was real hung over and needed to hydrate. Deborah was already awake and making breakfast, which was so wonderful. I got up and parked myself next to the water jug, my new best friend. After breakfast we got ready for the day and headed back to the Ha’carmel market where on Tuesdays and Fridays they have a art fair along with the normal market. The weather was perfect and it was time to soak up some sun.
On our was down to the market Jeremy’s schoolmate Danny met up with us and we walked down to the market. The crafts were marvelous and so creative. One lady had clocks made out of flattened, glass liquor bottles and another had baskets made of recycled newspapers, but one would never know if she did not mention it. They looked like normal, straw baskets, but if looked at closely you could see article and pictures. We walked through and then decided to pick up some lunch. We stopped at a restaurant on one of the street corners and were advised to order the “toast sandwiches.”
Jeremy and I split a market salad, a typical cucumber and tomato mound with huge piles of carrots, tuna, and corn on top, and “feta toast,” a toasted bagel sandwich of feta, pesto, and tomatoes. It is more than just the huge portions that make every meal enjoyable, everything is just so fresh and the combinations of flavors are amazing . Unfortunately, I broke my streak of no meat, but I got over that as soon as I took my first bite. So far, I have not received a meal that did not satisfy my every want and need (especially when you pay no more than $15 dollars). After the feast we walked back up through the fair and I, now the experienced “Tel-Avivian,” showed Allie the shop where I purchased my phone. It is nice to walk into a store in a foreign land and be greeted by a familiar face.
The girls were going to rent a car and driving to the Dead Sea for the night, so we walked down the beach to the rental shop. When we got there I took a seat and was whipped by a wave of exhaustion (still very hung over as well). The car the girls got was by far the nicest Ford Focus I had ever seen, especially for a rental, and Jeremy drove us home. He was stoked because it was his first time driving in eight months and did not realize how much he missed it until we pulled out the parking lot.
Jeremy’s street crosses with Dizengoff St., which is very busy and left turns are only permitted at specific times during the day. As a result, police park a little ways up from the corner, usually right in front of Jeremy’s building. They wait for people to make the left when not permitted and then walk into the middle of the street and instruct the drivers to pull over. In the twenty minutes that I was out front, I watched them get six or seven different people (it did not seem to get old for the policemen).
After the girls took off Jeremy and I got comfortable on the couch and watched “Waiting for Guffman,” one of four hilarious movies directed by Christopher Guest (others being “This Is Spinal Tap,” “Best In Show,” and “A Mighty Wind”). We both laughed heavily and then topped it off with some more sheshbesh. Finally, I was almost back to normal; laughter is truly the best cure for any pain or sickness.
Since both of us had to get up with the sun, we made it an early night. In the morning Jeremy was going to take his motorcycle test and I was boarding a bus for the south. Tel-Aviv has treated me very well and I know I will return before my time in Israel is through.

Today, Jeremy and I woke up late and decided to go for a walk around Tel-Aviv and down to the beach. The weather was wonderful and it was nice to be wearing sandals again. We walked through the city and headed south to Jaffa. Jaffa is the southern tip of Tel-Aviv and contains a large Arab population. It is full of stone houses, cobblestone alleys and the streets are normally filled with outdoor shops. It was Saturday and most of the shops and street markets were closed, but we journeyed deeper to find a place for lunch. The place we found was wonderful and the food was delicious. We split an Arabic salad (cucumbers and tomatoes with dressing) and a goat cheese and red pepper sandwich. The red peppers were like fruit, full of juice and roasted to perfection. After lunch we walked to a nargila (hookah) shop and sat down for some Arabic tea and nargila. A nargila is a tool used to smoke a tobacco that marinates in fruity molasses and is quite flavorful, very customary. The tea was very soothing and full of flavor; a nice blend of herbs and spices with mint leaves for garnish and extra flavor. Jeremy taught me how to play sheshbesh (backgammon) and we took in some soccer and sun.
When we finished we walked along the beach (Mediterranean Sea) as the sun was setting. Some heavy clouds were moving in and they had been forecasting rain all day. On our way back we walked through two town squares that was awfully familiar. I think that I must have passed through them when I was last hear in the summer of 2000. We stopped at the supermarket to pick up some groceries and dinner. It was poker night at one of Jeremy’s friend’s house so we quickly went home to change and brought our food over to Danny’s house. While we were there it started to rain, like Oregon style. There were flashes of lightning and thunder that shook the house. I thought I left this weather miles behind, but I guess I brought a little with me.
Once I had lost all my money (Jeremy took a good chunk), we made our way back to Jeremy’s. It was raining, but still warm, so the walk was quite enjoyable. You can walk the streets with open “beverages,” something that is not welcomed in the states. I think that I have consumed more beer (on a social level mom) in the last two days than I have over the last six months. Anyway, time for bed, I got a long day tomorrow...

The Ben Gurion airport was dead. It was Friday evening (Shabbat) and not one store
was open and I think we may have been the last flight of the night. Customs was simple,
except for the fact that they thought I was an Israeli citizen and informed me the at it was
time for me to join the army. Mom, do not worry! I cleared things up and let them know
that I was not Israeli and that the American passport that the customs agent was holding
would tell her otherwise. All things checked out and I proceeded to baggage claim, picked
up my bag, and walked to the greeting area. As I walked around I heard a man’s voice yell
out Frisco and all of Israel knew that I had arrived. Jeremy had come with his roommate
Miri to pick me up and welcome me to his new home.
It was 8 in the evening and dark out, but it was still beautiful. We drove into Tel-Aviv
and the city was dead. All shops were closed except for a few bodegas (corner stores) and
the streets were empty. When we got to Jeremy and Miri’s apartment (in the center of Tel-
Aviv, between Dizengoff center and Dizengoff square), Jeremy’s girlfriend, Yafit, was
preparing dinner and it smelled fabulous. Their apartment was fantastic, three bedroom
and felt like home. Their third roommates name is Limor and we all sat down to dinner; a
wide variety of Israeli cuisine and it all tasted great.
After dinner we moved to the living room and just relaxed. Jeremy sparked up the
nargila (hookah) and some of his friends from school came by to hang out. The radio
station they all listen to plays the craziest variety of music, from current American pop and
hip-hop to 80s music with a couple Hebrew songs mixed in. Eventually it got late and we
were all wiped out and headed for bed. All in all, I do not even feel like I am in another
country. Everyone made me feel so welcome, it was like being at home.

After leaving the grasp of my weeping mother, my dad and I began our drive towards
the airport. It was nice to have some car time with dad, even though I did not have much
to talk about, but my dad kept asking me questions, I think he just wanted to hear my
voice. I too wanted to talk, but my mind was somewhere else, and rightfully so. I had
been anticipating this day for the last six months. Once we pulled up to the airport I
started to get real excited, although it would be almost 24 hours until I was in Israel, the
trip had begun.
While checking in, the Air Canada representative informed me that my bag was 8
pounds over the limit and that I would have to remove some items or pay an extra $25. So
I plucked some items out and stuffed my carry on as full as I could get it without smushing
the delicious sandwich that my dad had prepared for my travels (one of his favorite things
to do for his son). I did not really think about what I was taking out and putting into my
carry on , but one of the items was my first aid kit. The issue with the first aid kit is that I
had a small pocket knife inside and that is a no-no with security. Well, knowing me, I
proceeded anyway and continued through security with no problems or bonus frisking
(makes ya feel realllll safe).
With two hours until my flight and a full stomach, I got real board real quick while
waiting at the gate. So I started to wonder around and found a restaurant/bar with a TV. I
took a seat and just started to relax when the meanest Asian lady I had ever met, asked
me if I wanted anything. When I replied no, she proceeded to be very rude and kick me
out because seating was for customers only. This seemed fair, but I was the only potential
customer within 25 feet of the place and now I think I know why (she was no Joy, the
loving Asian owner of the finest diner in Eugene). So I took a seat across from the
restaurant where I could still view the exhilarating match-up between the Cincinnati Reds
and Boston Red Sox (Bronson Arroyo struck out Willy Mo Pena, players that were traded for
each other amongst the competing squads). As time ticked away, I made faces and played
with a young kid who was also waiting for a flight and was not the type to sit still and wait
(much like me when I was his age and still). But eventually, the little hand was on between
the 11 and 12 and it was time for me to head back to the gate and start leg one of the
flight.
The flight to Toronto was quick and painless (in comparison to what was still to
come). I enjoyed the in-flight movie, “Prime” I believe it was called. A story about a 23
year old Jewish boy whose mother is a psychiatrist, a concept that could develop into a
movie on its own. The 23 year old met and fell in love with a beautiful 37 year old woman
(Uma Thurman). The catch is that Uma was a patient of the psychiatrist mother and would
tell stories of her relationship with this young boy and in some detail. Eventually the
mother caught on and blah blah blah. All in all, it was entertaining and throughout the
movie, spurts of laughter would rain inside the plane.
Once off the plane in Toronto, I had to proceed through customs and make my way to
another terminal for the second leg of the trip. I had a three hour layover and had a huge
craving for some poutin (french fries covered in gravy with cheese curds on top), a
Canadian delicacy. Of course before I made my way to any food stop, there was a very
important phone call that had to be made. So I picked up the phone and called home to
let my mother know that her 263 month old baby was safe and sound. I was quite lucky
because as soon as I sat down to enjoy my healthy batch of poutin, the jersey retirement
ceremony for Indiana Pacer, Reggie Miller was just beginning. It made me feel a little
emotional because I remember all the times Reggie buried the hopes of the New York
Knickerbockers (the choking gesture is still in my mind) and his last second heroics. I
thought this was there was not a better game to end my 2005-06 season on. The Pacers
were playing the Phoenix Suns and were just getting blown out (could the Suns win it all
minus Amare? ‘Cuz it sure looked like whatever Indiana tried was not going to stop Steve
Nash from getting the ball to someone who would put the ball through the hoop).
Anyway, it was time to board the 11 hour flight to Tel-Aviv and while I was waiting for
everyone to make their way down to the plane, I was chatting it up with the gate attendant.
He was very charming and flexible, something very rare in his profession. After everyone
seemed to be on the plane, I figured it was my turn to walk the plank. Before I could begin
the gentleman at the gate asked for my ticked and said he was going to give me a seat
with some extra leg room (even though I already had the exit row); he said I would be in
the front row. As I stepped onto the plane I started counting rows and did not understand
why my seat was 5C because there were seven rows in first class. The kindest airline
attendant I have ever worked with had pulled some sort of magic from his hat and
reassigned me to first class, unbelievable. I really wanted to run back to the gate and
shake his hand, but I was already stuck in the seat, more like lounge chair, which would be
perfect for the overnight flight.
After flying first class, I do not think I can ever go back to economy. The chair
reclined into a bed and I was out, but not before enjoying a three course dinner. When I
awoke it was light out again and we were over Italy. The personal TV had a map channel
and I was able to figure out what cities I was flying over. The sky was clear and I had
wonderful views of Nice and Naples. Then came Greece, where I could identify Hydra and,
in the distance, Athens. With two hours to go it was time for breakfast. So here I was
enjoying a pre-breakfast of sliced fruit and pastries while flying over the Greek Isles. I
could see Milos and then Santorini and they were amazing. I had never had steak and
eggs before and never thought that my first time would be on a plane. Air Canada
definitely knows how to treat its elite passengers and I felt spoiled.