I'm so internationally known. Huah!

Pictures to come soon.

Historically, our people are nomads and that is evidenced by the past 8 days. Tsfat -> Afula -> Akko -> Haifa -> Tel Aviv -> Afula -> Ramat Hasharon -> Jerusalem. Currently I am sitting in the train station on the way to Tel Aviv, city 5 of 7 on our list.  To say we are travelling aimlessly would be incorrect.  There has been a purpose in each of the places we have visited and it has all worked out as it was meant to be.

Tzfat: Magical, Mysterious, Magnificent Triumphs

The last week in Tsfat cannot be summed up in words so I will do so in pictures. But beyond these pictures it also included Hitdodebus (a primal form of meditation where you go into the woods by yourself and scream to Hashem), a nighthike with Noam and a wonderfully festive last Shabbat.

(Quasi-failed Pyramid Attempt) 

(Our fly-kicking Jedi Master, Doron) 

 (Rolling Hills on the Hike)

 (Beautiful Sunset to end the hike)

 (Doron explaining that as one candle burns out, it gives way for another candle to ignite)

Afula: Hospitality at its Finest

Everyone knocks Afula, but that is because they are not shown the hospitality that we were by Bruria Ricon, the mother of my brother (from another mother) and Danny, the father of my brother (from another mother).  They must not have experienced the splendor of the Ricon household or the delicious meal at the coffee shop after an interesting bus ride in which the driver did not even know the names of the destinations in which the bus was stopping in. They must not have experienced a home-cooked meal by Shir (my sister from another mother) or the trip to the sport goods store!

Akko: Beatboxing and a Boat

My cuddly travel buddy Louma and I meant to take a secluded getaway to a moshav (agricultural settlement) called Eli Ad (packed with terrific hikes and waterfalls).  Bruria told us “You might have to change your plans, I am going to Akko tomorrow.”  Resolutely determined to go Eli Ad, we logged into AirBnb and found a beautiful cabin to lay our heads. Baruch Hashem, our reservation loaded to 99% before telling us it had 8 more days of processing.  It just so happened that Keith, my travel buddy from day 1, and a kid who I’ve spent a fight-free 48 of 52 days with, was also in Akko.  It was a layup, we went to Akko the next morning with Bruria.  After a morning in the Mediterranean and a 10 Shekel dance party boat ride around the port we spent most of the afternoon posted up at an underpriced seaside restaurant with great food (big portions to boot) and beautiful views of the Mediterranean.  We then met a traveler named Zack who latched onto us for the rest of the day and the next morning for that matter too.  It’s fine, Zack was a great dude who enhanced our experience.  That night we spent smoking hookah with some Arabic kids who were observing Ramadan and one of which (Shady) was the best beat-boxer I have ever seen in person.

Fueled by a next morning full of Arabic pastries, delicious Schwarma and Arabic coffee, Keith, Louma and I headed to Haifa.

Haifa: Take the Best, Fuck the Rest

We started the morning by meeting up with our friend Avi (from Livnot) who literally leaped into the frame of the picture we were snapping from the bottom of the Bahai’iGardens.  After meeting a couple of New York girls who thought we were soccer players in the Maccabe Games, we opted for a taxi to take us to lunch.  This turned out to be a dual-highlight of the day.  It was by far the wildest cab ride in my life.  The driver had an open bottle of next to him, which when questioned about it responded it wasn’t in fact beer, but that it was wine that he had been drinking.  After telling us the only red things he likes in life are tomatoes and wine (and not red lights) he proceeded to give us his life philosophy on women.  I will spare you the lewd details, but what I will repeat was his most memorable quote on life itself; “Take the best, fuck the rest!” Said cabbie, also named Avi, informed us that we would not be going to the shit restaurant we had picked out, but would instead pay him 10 shekels more for his advice to go to an Argentinean restaurant in the business district named Eduardo’s.  Eduardo’s was closed, I mean lights off, door locked and nobody inside.  After Louma confidently tried and failed to open the door, we resolved to having to go somewhere else, content with the fact that although we had lost our cab fee, we had paid for the entertainment. This is where the dual-highlight completes itself. Eduardo himself came out and said “Are you guys hungry? I can open back up for you guys?” Wait! WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!? Never in my life have I heard of such a thing.  I’ve had restaurants turn on their grills early to accommodate me, but to fire them back up after they were closed, unheard of! For $40 (including a substantial tip and a slight discount) we filled our stomachs on parmesan and tomato veal schnitzel, empanadas and beer.

After a quick street-side 20 shekel bathing suit purchase, our crew of four headed to the beach, where we were determined to sleep for the night. First we posted up at a restaurant for 6 hours, ordering just an overpriced hookah and two drinks; all-the-while we were bringing beers from the convenience store into the restaurant and drinking them in there.  We met some cool people, including a man who lived on a transcendental medicine colony in Iowa.

Next we did what we had set out to do; we slept on the beach.  This was not your ordinary beach sleeping arrangement however.   Insert Couch beach barracks photo.

Tel Aviv: “She Said Yes!”

We came to Tel Aviv because my brother (from another mother), Itay told me two days earlier that he would be proposing to his girlfriend of 5 years, Maya.  I knew it would be an elaborate proposal, but it way exceeded my expectations and totally shocked Maya too! It was done amidst a row of tanks to the song posted below, at the IDF Museum where Maya did her National Service and where they originally met.  I’ll leave the rest of it up to your sweet imagination.

(YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME SMILE)

Afula: Part 2

I discovered Shir’s amazing artwork and ate a delectable lunch cooked by Shir and Bruria.

Ramat Hasharon: Shabbat R&R

Spent Shabbat here and a peaceful day of relaxation at Itay’s place.

Jerusalem: Family Time

Here to see Molly (Austy Wilde and Oliver Baron and Steve Eisenberg as bonus) and start my Isralights program.

Also, for the first time in my life, the hairs on my arm are blonde.

To the People of Tzfat.

Here is a blog dedicated to my friends of Tzfat, those who made my month the month it was and those who I will never forget. This probably does not need to be read, but will be for my later enjoyment.

NEW POST TO COME SOON.

Yossi - My compadre and true friend.  He worked at a jewelry store and begifted me a beautiful ring which says אני לדודי ודודי לי I am my beloved's and my beloved's is mine. He now works in another art shop after choosing to leave due to a crazy boss.
Ze'ev - A retired English teacher and my great friend.  Always down to kick it in the Kikar with his two dogs and speak about love, life and peace.
Noam - Our leader Doron's stand-in and a truly righteous and awesome dude.
Moti - Our falafel guy.  While his falafels were not the best in the town, when we didn't have money on us - and without knowing us, he let us open a tab.
Sol - Works with Moti.
Yitzhak - Cheese shop guy across the street who sold the "best food in all of Israel." Always down to kick it late night and smoke nagila in the seating area of his shop.
Eddie - Owned the bakery on Jerusalem street and from Monsey, Ny.
Phir - Guy who gave us a 110 shekel 2.5 week gym pass after telling us it'd be 220 for 8 sessions. (We worked out 7 times)
Near - Sold Sabich on Jerusalem street. Was introduced through Louma.
Girl who works in Rosh Pina - Self-explanatory.  Haden Morgan's best friend, a true economical catalyst.
Hadas - Sold jewelery onthe stairs leading up to the Kikar and I bought my Magen (Star of) David from her.
Doron - Sold jewelery that he made.
Avraham - Wrapped T'fillin with him daily with Keith.  He is attempting to wrap 2,700 people this Jewish year. That's a lot of Mitzvahs!
Snus guy - Worked next to Yossi and across from Avraham.  He constantly gave us a snus to put up our nose that would make you sneeze uncontrollably.  #awesomeness
Yoni - The self-proclaimed messiah who asked if there was a David around and after me telling him that was my dad said "Aha, I knew it!" Can "read trees and people" but not when his cousin is en route. He said the Ana Bakoach prayer as Yossi put on a Kabbalah bracelet (tied 7 times) on my left hand after he told me the bracelet on my right hand was Ballagan.
Yeshiva Thugs - Self-explanatory.
Non - Yeshiva Thugs (Tzvee, Jordan - T'fillin sprinter) - Self-explanatory.
Rosalie - 16 year old pothead who doesn't shower and is always down to kick it.
Adam - Son of family we ate Shabbat brunch at.  Very down to earth and tatted up.
Juice Guy - Self-explanatory.
Cocnut Milk Guy - Self-explanatory.
Avraham the Artist - Aweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssssssssssommmmmmmmmme!
David Friedman Artist
Doc, Yisrael - People we met on first night.
Eden - Girl who sold me my sister's birthday present.

Barbed Wires, Bombs, and Bitches Doing Dishes

The best way to break up this blog will be to separate it into three main parts. I am going to write about: hiking, community service, and a memorial service.

1. Hiking
To preface my account of our night hikes, it is first necessary to describe the man who is leading these hikes and the leader of our program, Doron. There are a lot of 'cool' people I have met in my life, but without a doubt, hands down, Doron is the coolest man that I know.  Hailing from Kazakhstan, he tells us this fact each time we do an opening circle (at the beginning of each week when newcomers arrive) while chuckling contagiously (as if he himself doesn't believe it). This man teaches anti-terrorism to the army and Kabbalah in his free time, used to hitchhike to weddings as part of a wedding band, and is generally badass. This man surprises himself every day to the point where his actions too surprise us, but also to the degree that it would be a surprise for him not to surprise us.

Fast forward to night hike number two of the week and number three of the trip.  Doron, who likes to blaze new trails (literally), as in taking hikes in places where paths don't exist, led us on a hike that he had scouted six months ago.  The spot was ~10 miles from the Lebanese border and led us to a half Muslim, half Christian town.  We quickly ran into unexpected obstacles.  There was barbed wire 1.5 meters high and stretching to about 1 foot off the ground around the perimeter of the hike that we were set to depart.  Instead of even thinking about calling off the hike, Doron insisted that we lift the barbed wire and have everybody shimmy under it. To juicen the story, it must be mentioned that although we had gotten used to obstacles, there were 7 newcomers (as of that day) who could not possibly have expected to step into this.  After trekking under barbed wire number two, there was the 'opening' gate that Doron had remembered passing six months ago.  Luckily there was a hole in the gate or else it would have meant 29 people scaling 8 feet. Then there was the 5 foot ravine we had to jump over in which the girl in front of me took a nasty spill and left the landing rock completely wet.  And finally was a 15 foot long gate which Doron simply pushed out of the way. There were also wolfdogs and angry cows howling and mooing along the way.  At the end, after feeling accomplished, I scaled a ten foot pillar, which was the thing of the day that struck the most fear into me.

Hike one, in a different way, was also spectacular.  Just 3 kilometers from the Syrian border, we awoke the next morning on the parking lot at 6:30 AM to the sounds of bombs dropping and a machine gun raining down on Syria.  Even though it was so physically close, it was still impossible to imagine the sure deaths that ensued from these events.  The reason, as I was informed by Doron, that these were bombs and not Israeli military training, was due to the abbreviated amount of time that they dropped for and the random frequency in the bombings.  

2. Community Service:
Since coming to Tzvat, I have done several types of community service, ranging: picking up trash (subsequently making artwork out of it), painting railings, repairing a burned out house,and weeding/repainting graves in a holy cemetery.  I wish there was more interaction with people during community service, but at the least we at Livnot U'Lehibanot, translated "To Build and to Be Built" (the program I am participating in), get to bond.  It is also rewarding to hear people praise our work, whether it be the mayor at a celebratory unveiling of the newly renovated Citadel, or a random passerby whose street railing we were repainting.

The ironic thing about all of this community service is that technically the most holy of the work that we do is working in the cemetery... on behalf of dead people.  The reasoning behind this, according to Judaism, is because Tzedakah done to people who cannot return the favor is the ultimate form of giving.  I personally see how this view exists, but am not of the same belief.  Just as a Mitzvah is created by doing right especially when multiple people are involved, I believe that Tzedakah in the form of giving to people who are not able to return it but can enjoy it (such as singing at an old people's home), donating anonymously to those in need, etc. is the ultimate form of Chesed (kindness). Painting graves was quite relaxing however.

3. Memorial Service
One of the most prominent sages in Judaism that ever lived was a man named Isaac Luria. Pegged as a crucial man in the interpretation of Kabballah, this jedi-master did not even live to be 40.  It is said that by simply looking at your face, he could read your history and discern what kind of person you were. Apparently some people used to walk around with their hats down for fear of being detected by Rabbi Luria.  Having died on the fifth of Av nearly 450 years ago, his death is still a much celebrated day in history, and particularly in Tzfat where he is buried in what is considered to be the second holiest cemetery in the world.  This itself is slightly off-putting to me as in Judaism, everyone is considered to be equal in death.  More off-putting was the fashion in which Luria’s death is celebrated.  Thousands of people flock to Tzfat for the chance to touch this man’s grave.  The explanation that Doron gave me, which was that people were trying to connect with his righteousness, was not sufficient to deter me from thinking that this was the ultimate form of idolatry.  I cannot imagine that Luria would ever have wanted people to step over other graves (some deemed okay and some deemed not okay to step over) and elbow each other out of the way in order for a chance to touch his grave.

Lastly, it must be mentioned a that we were forced, as a crew of five guys, to do the dishes.  It took an hour longer than it normally takes and the dishes came out half as clean. 

Barbed Wire Crossing #1 

 Pillar with Lauren standing underneath it

Doron and me

   Sunset over Syria    

Sleeping quarters

Isaac Luria's grave - Look of desperation on man's face top right

Doing what I do better than dishes - making schnitzel with Aaron

Getting Tzvated in the Holy Land

By way of background, Tzfat (Zefad or Safed as alternative spellings) is one of the four holy cities in the Holy Land, the others being Hevron (where Avram and Sarah are buried), Jerusalem, and Tiberius.  I have had the fortune of going to all four on this trip.  For now we're going to stick to Tzvat and introduce a term called getting Tzvated, which is when you run into somebody you know in this mystical city-town. The magic of Tzvat lays in its ability to unite people of forces that are totally opposite, a ying and yang effect if you will.  But enough for metaphors, let's get back to the term.  In the last two days, I have been Tzvated three times.  First was my madricha (leader of our Israel Recharge trip - and the reason I am still here in Israel today), Ms. Alisa Adler.  Next was the rabbi who re-barmitzvahed me at Masada last year.  Finally was the soldier who helped me find my friends in the Tel Aviv bus station last week. As I said, this city has a way of bringing people together.  My friend Paula for example ran into a bunch of her Brooklyn homies while here who, unbeknownst to her were on their Birthright trip.

(Me, Alisa Adler, Keith - travel buddy)

(Rabbi Menachem and me)

In the past two days, I have also done two memorably epic things I had never done before. The first was a three hour night hike in the pitch black dark, at times walking in total silence to the drumbeat of my steps on the softly patted down ground.  Included in this hike was a grueling 15 minute trek up an angle that our all-knowing guide Doron claims was 45 degrees and at times 60.  I don't disagree, because this hill was extremely step, had very uneven terrain and prickly thorn-bushes everywhere.  A gashed finger later and I felt super accomplished for having gotten to the top.  Night hikes are awesome.

Yesterday brought a 5 hour day hike through equally, but different, treacherous terrain.  Having hiked 45 minutes in waist deep water, we finally made it to a white rapid area with a gushing waterfall. A bruised bum later - having taken a spill off of slippery rocks - and once again I was feeling great.  These were things I could not have expected to do because when they were explained to me I thought, "okay simple night hike/walk through a trail" definitely not expecting to blaze new paths, and when told about the water hike, thought it "maybe it will be 8 inches to a feet deep max." I did not expect to be falling every 15 feet because rocks that could not be seen were popping out of everywhere.  I'm glad both the hikes were exactly as they were, demanding of your focus and requiring me to be in the absolute moment.

The fourth of July, was a majestic day. Fueled by the morning water hike, we spent the afternoon cooking for Shabbos (Shabbat) and then spent some free time exploring Tzvat.  We decided to walk to the top of the Citadel - where there are spectacular views of the Sea of Galilee (the Kinneret), Mt Hermon (2,200 meter mountain) and Mount Meron (1,200 meters). There we found an amazing group of four playing music: Joshua (Aussie), Benjamin and Stevie (Jewish Brit and a chick Brit respectively), and Ross (Irish).  The headline song "girls don't poop, they don't poop in front of you" was very rhythmic and soothing. These aren't the types of people you get to meet everyday.  They were music teachers in Schem (שחמ), a town in the West Bank.

(From L to R Stevie, Ross, me, Joshua, Benjamin)

We have also been acquainting ourselves with awesome townies, including Hadas who let me exchange out the necklace I bought from her a month ago when the gold faded. We have met Moti who spotted us a meal when we were out of Shekels, and we have met Eddie at the bakery who let us get several pastries and a lagniappe for 5 shekels.

All in all I am having nothing short of a great time.

From Tel Aviv to Zefad

Yesterday began inauspiciously, but that quickly turned around, in the most conspicuous of ways.  By way of background, we crammed 4 people into a beautiful room (with balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea) at the luxurious David Intercontinental in Tel Aviv. After realizing we could only bring 2 people to breakfast for free, my soon-to-be travel partner Keith and I sneaked into the eating area seemingly scot-free.  After eating a measly challah roll with heavily salted cream cheese, the overly rude maitre d slapped down a bill and briskly walked away.  The $70 tab and the fashion in which it was handed to us upset my compadres to put it lightly.  Long story short, Sergei, the manager came over and had to deal with a certain Argentinian friend of mine at the table berating Russia and their 'programs' which Sergei took right in stride saying "not only do they deal weapons, but tanks, RGB's as well." Here's where the day took a turn for the better as the manager politely offered us a bottle of champagne which we nearly talked him out of.

After some hours of napping, we decided it was time to head to the holy city of Zefad.  It was not without some hiccups however.  For starters, the cab driver announced a fee of 40 shekels, before retorting, asking for 50, then saying it was Shabbat and we have bags and that it would instead be 60.  He denied our request to turn on the meter, and being that we were in a rush we had no choice but to cough up the extra coin. After arriving quicker than expected to the bus terminal, we had twenty minutes to spare to find the bus.  After asking many English speakers where the bus was, a man speaking no English finally pointed us in the right direction and we caught the bus with 30 seconds to spare.  A transfer and 3 hours later, we arrived in Zefad at ~9PM.  Having not a plan or a place to stay, two Orthodox men helped carry our bags to a hostel where we decided we would post up.  Here's where the fun kicked in, we got to spend about 30 minutes with a troupe of women commanding soldiers who drove Humvees who were on a spiritual retreat to Zefad.  There were several I would have loved to run away with or for whom it would have been worth joining the IDF.

After deciding not to stay at the hostel - for a lack of clean sheets and for the soldiers all departing - we trekked the three blocks to Livnot where we would begin our month long program the next day.  They were very welcoming and put us up with no problems.  We ended the night with some 1 AM zza for what was a very rewarding day.

Big shout out to Hashem for making this all possible ;)

Max is Back and on His Grind

Reporting live from my couch in NYC it is five minutes past 1AM on what is now the day after my sister's birthday and the eve of July 4, 2012.  I have just returned from Asia, again - well on June 12th to be precise.  As I sit here I cannot help but think about how I will be going back to Asia again (Japan this time) in a few short months.  And then I stumbled upon this hilarious video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOvdNylCUk4.  I can't wait to go!  I shortly am going to recount my experiences in Asia and beyond, which lasted from May 13-June 12, but now will tell you about my American revelations since coming back.
1. Americans are fat.  Not all of us, but the ones that are are like seriously fat - hadn't seen that in a month.
2. Advertisements are much more enticing than I previously thought.  Whether it is because I can read and understand the advertisements or if it is because Americans assuredly spend millions more on advertisement than any other country - it feels the ads were bashing me in the face as I drove home from DC to NY two weeks ago. Which, brings me to my next point:
3.  America is like the New Jersey of Countries ... think about it.
4. It is a lot harder to find fresh foods here.
5. TV is addictive and also absolutely horrendous.

Free Airport Wifi: Asia Does it Properly

So, this is my last blog from the continent.  Saying that gets me choked up.  I really am going to miss this place, from the sample Chivas shots to the 'buttocks cleansing with warm water equipment" toilet, both of which I I came across while walking to my terminal.  I'm not surprised much by anything in Asia, but I am always seeing seeing something I never had before.

To say that the people I met in Vietnam made my experience would be a total understatement.  The hospitality, humor, and values that I was expose to are unrivaled.    At times the hospitality is overbearing and I do not know how to reciprocate. I once ordered an egg and bread sandwich from my hotel and not having the bread, they had somebody drive a motorbike to the market to fetch a loaf for me before I even knew what was going on.  The humor is best understood by coming here.  And, while it seems they place a different  value on human life, they seem to have their core values aligned.  Generally, in order of prioritization, they are all about family, down time, and food - in that order.

I honestly think readjusting to America will be harder than the transition I experienced coming here.  I just ate a $7 meal at McDonald's in the Narita (Tokyo) airport; spending $7 in Saigon on a meal is difficult and means you are eating somewhere extremely fancy (not necessarily good food).  Speaking of food, here is an assuredly incomplete rundown of things I ate in Asia which I never had before: scorpions and crickets (both deep fried), squid, octopus, shrimp, chicken brain, coagulated chicken blood (by accident), sushi (went for the tuna), rabbit, wild boar, duck, quail eggs, oysters, bamboo shoots, chum chums, mangosteen, ostrich, eel, sticky rice - the list goes on.

Changing gears, my last few days in Saigon were adventurous and bargain-filled.  Wednesday I discovered an instant hangover remedy, the Kamikaze slide at the Dam Sen waterpark.  The Vietnamese called the rides games.  Thursday meant bidding adieu after some hardcore last minute shopping at Binh Thanh market.  In ten minutes I cranked out my entire list and got everything at the price I was determined to pay - it probably helped that I was using a cigarette pack as a makeshift wallet (mine was stolen last weekend).  I also went to Bac's house which was fun and accidentally left all my postcards there, whoops!

For anyone who hasn't gone to Vietnam, I unreservedly recommend it.  I will write again when I arrive in America so I can share a little bit more about how my perspective has changed.  

To my Vietnamese family of friends, I urge you to keep in touch, you will never become a foreigner to me.  Let's race, you try and get to America before I get back to Vietnam!

Until then, hen gap lai.