The 'ken' and 'lo' of touring Israel
Shalom!So, you’ve made it to Ben Gurion International Airport after flying the friendly skies with El Al Airlines. Congratulations. So begins your journey into the Land of Promise. And you, my friend, are promised an epiphany or three along the way. Keep in mind a few things, observe a couple of do’s and don’ts, learn the ken (yes) and the lo (no), and you’ll enjoy Israel and its gorgeous contradictions — from hi-tech to holy, from the earthy to the ethereal, from the cosmopolitan (Tel Aviv) to the ancient (Jerusalem), and from teachers of the divine (rabbis, priests and imams) to divinely beautiful Natalie Portman look-alikes (such as the student who works at Meatos in Tel Aviv).
There might be snags along the way, though. Don’t say I didn’t forewarn ya’ll.
Bring a light jacket always. In summer (from May to September), the days can be scalding in Jerusalem, but the nights can creep up on you like an assassin of chill. Especially in the desert. On a camel with no name.
When visiting Masada (walking up the Snake Path like energetic Israeli students, or, like us tourists, riding the cable car uphill), it’s best to go early in the morning. Fewer tourists; more space to explore the labyrinthine areas. You can hear the tour guide perfectly. The weather is perfect. Not too hot. Not a rain cloud in sight. The bluest skies you’ll ever see in your life. You’ll be exposed to strong sunlight on top of the isolated rock plateau, but you won’t sweat that much because of the dry desert air (not humid like in Manila or Bangkok) — unless you’ve chugged a Goliath-size bottle of mineral water the night before, thus you’d be sweating a Sea of Galilee.
Again, when visiting Masada, it’s best to go early in the morning. That was the advice of one of our travel mates. Brilliant thinking. The rest of the team met up early at the hotel lobby, but our brilliant thinker didn’t show up for the tour, heading instead for the hotel’s sulfur pool and spa. Saw Masada already, she claimed. Probably with Peter O’Toole in it. And Stacy Keach!
When going on day tours, why not wear your workout gear? Be comfortable. Try sweatpants and shirts, running or walking shoes — Jerusalem is hilly, it’s not a walk in the park at all. Or the clothes you wear during long-haul trips in a crappy airline’s economy section and you’re seated between Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
Bring a hat and a pair of shades. It gets to the point as if the sun were punishing you for your sins. Repent, The End is nigh! Be wise like that girl we saw in sunny Haifa walking around with an open umbrella. Kababayan!
A knapsack comes in handy — fill it with essentials. Leave the anvil, the ACME safe, and the rock of ages in the hotel.
When swimming in the Dead Sea, keep a handy bottle of mineral water nearby. When the thick, slick saltwater gets into your eyes, you’ll go flailing blindly. It is nine times saltier than your average ocean, I tell you. Grab the bottle of salvation. Rinse off the ultra-salty water from your eyes. Rest a bit and then go float like a cork again. No, no, this was not the place where Christ walked on water.
Or better yet, bring goggles. Don’t be the dude who gets saltwater in his eyes and has to be led to the showers like a blind man off to meet the Messiah.
Taste whatever you’re offered in the marketplace. Don’t be a wuss of a foodie like me. The peddlers are very generous with tourists. They’ll give you free food: fruits, falafels and funky-looking items that go into a blender and come out cool and refreshing. If you like what you’ve sampled, buy something, anything — if only for goodwill. Live a little. Spare a couple of shekels. Look at what the locals are eating and try ‘em. Don’t eat too many figs, though. Or else there’d be the parting of the brown sea.
Bring a shawl or scarf whenever you visit holy sites or Jewish shrines or memorials — that is, if you insist on touring in sleeveless blouse and shorts. It would be best to cover up. Dress appropriately. Who would want to see the map of Greenland on your legs and your flabby bingo wings, anyway? Or, heaven forbid, your fleshy repository of extra rice, San Mig Light and Krispy Kreme. And when they hand you the complimentary yarmulke (skull cap) to cover your head, put it on. Be respectful — even if you’re a freethinker, an existentialist, or a Bertrand Russell incarnate… even if you’re a non-believer. And who cares if you just put on a tub of Gatsby gel? You are not at Republiq.
Be prepared for anything. Inside the Hall of the Last Supper, its sparseness will stun you. Don’t expect a long table appropriated from the Da Vinci painting. There is none. Thankfully the room hasn’t been turned into a tacky replica. And don’t be like that pokey tourist who asked his tour guide if there were any scientific basis and forensic evidence that the Last Supper was even held there. Go ask CSI: Jerusalem.
Always remember the key phrase: “Tradition has it…” Don’t bring dinosaurs into the equation. (Again, courtesy of the aforementioned tourist.) The day is short. The debate is forever.
When at the Western Wall, be mindful of other people’s space. People come here to pray (fervently, as if their very lives are on the line; …“it is as if they pray before the throne of glory because the gate of heaven is situated there and it is open to hear prayer…”), people come here to watch people pray fervently (in awe and wonder, scenes they only see on Nat Geo and the History channel), while over-updating little you are just taking wacky snapshots of yourself to post on your FB page. How I do wish for an “Unlike” button… or a basket of fire and brimstone to strike you down.
Don’t tweet too much, or obsessively find out what your friends and even Anne Curtis are up to in 140 characters or less. Who cares who-wore-whom-at-this-or-that-party? Who gives a sh*t? And why always tell the world what you’re doing or eating at the moment? Live your life. Live in the moment. You are in the land where the greatest stories ever told (the battle between Good and Evil, the trip from the Garden to the End of Days, the Life and Death and Life Everlasting of the Son of Man, the Apocalypse) have been laboriously posted by scribes, sages, prophets, poets and former tax collectors. It all goes terribly wrong when the Bible is interpreted literally, but what’s written in the book can be seen as metaphors for all time — even if they belong to an age terribly alien to us. Remember what William Faulkner said: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”
Soak in the sights. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The Garden of Gethsemane. The Mount of Olives. Via Dolorosa. You may never pass this way again. I once traveled with a group of Department of Tourism (DOT) officials to Berlin, and as we marveled at the sight of the magnificent and historic Brandenburg Gate, one of them exclaimed, “May Starbucks pala dito!” before happily trudging off to get a latte.
Check out the travel tips on the Internet before you set forth on your journey. You will encounter a lot of daffy sites (— “Do not get robbed!”) but rest easy since incisive ones abound on the Net (— “The Bible is the best guidebook for Israel…”). And avoid reading this article altogether. Oh… And it’s too late, baby, it’s too late.
Be cautious, be alert, but don’t fear rule your life. The Holy Land is one of the must-check boxes on most people’s bucket lists. Lucky you… you’re here. So, learn something. Write your thoughts down. Maybe even renew your faith. Have fun also. Yes, Israel is always on the bad side of the news (the Gaza Strip, the West Bank, Banksy), and just like anywhere else in the world there are some areas that are best avoided at night, but the Philippines gets a lot of dire travel advisories as well, and we all know how fun it is here despite… well… despite everything.
This archipelagic perya we call home.
And our point of departure.
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Special thanks to Ambassador Menashe Bar-On, deputy chief of mission Yaniv Revach and the people at the Israeli Embassy in Manila. For information, visit http://www.tourism.gov.il.
