My Trip to Israel -- Part 1

This is an education not a vacation.

I’ve been traveling through Israel for the past 2+ weeks and have another three days to go. It’s the longest trip I’ve ever taken and it has been truly remarkable.

I’m calling it a “trip” not a “vacation” because vacations, to me, are about relaxing. Perhaps lying on a beach or maybe even visiting a museum or cultural landmark here and there, but at a leisurely pace. This is not that. Fun — yes. Informative — yes. Leisurely — no.

We have a rigorous schedule featuring historical and cultural sites, and we are led by a tour guide — Oded — with an astonishing depth of knowledge. This is an education not a vacation.

We’ve been to art museums, history/cultural museums, a cave featuring an archeological dig, an “eco” kibbutz and a national park with grottoes and bats; we ate our way through an outdoor market, took a guided graffiti tour of Tel Aviv, waded in hot springs in Gan Hashlosha National Park, snorkeled to view ancient ruins in the Mediterranean sea, spoke with and learned about the Druze in Daliat Al Carmel, kayaked in Kfar Blum, saw gazelles in the wild, stood at the border of Lebanon and Israel and at the border between Syria and Israel; we’ve been to Tel Aviv, Jaffa, Caesarea, Kfar Blum, Metula, the Golan Heights, and more places I can’t say or remember and we’ve only just arrived in Jerusalem.

Tel Aviv

I’m sure I’m forgetting some of the things we’ve done and I know I’ve not retained what I “learned.” But I have a deeper understanding of the culture and history and, more practically, I better understand why my husband eats (shovels?) and talks (screams?) the way he does.

There are sixteen of us. We are three generations. We are ages 6 to 79. My four children are with us — ages 6, 8, 20 and 22. None of us (me and my children) — and none of any of the youngest generation with us here (including the other five kids of my husband’s siblings) — have been to Israel before.

My husband Daniel was born here as were his two younger siblings, when their father taught at the University of Tel Aviv. Daniel lived here as a young child, started school here, grew up bilingual — and arguably “bi-cultural” — before returning to America. He then came back to Israel for his military service and graduate school in his twenties. He has a deep connection to this place — bad and good things in his life have happened here — and he was excited to share it with me and our children.

Before we embarked on our grand tour, Daniel wondered aloud if someone in our group might have some sort of transformative experience. A religious awakening? A spiritual epiphany? Well, this seems not to have occurred so far for anyone but there is time. And Jerusalem would be the place for it if it were to happen. So we’ll see.

I’m fairly certain it won’t be me. As my husband often jokes: I have less of a religious or spiritual impulse than anyone he’s ever met. But I’ll let you know what happens in Jerusalem at the Western Wall.

The most remarkable thing about this trip is not the sites or the history — at least not to me — though it’s all very interesting. Certainly, being surrounded by history and the polarizing politics in the Middle East is a learning experience and deeply eye opening. But really, 16 family members committing to being together for close to three weeks — and I mean really being together — is the close to mind-boggling epiphany for me. It’s extraordinary.

In today’s world wherein our grown children scatter across states and almost no one lives in the town they grew up in and where families are divided by politics and who votes for who, families sticking together is a choice. You just do it. You put in the time. You spend holidays together, celebrate milestones together, maybe take a once in a lifetime trip together and you remain close. Without the effort and time spent, it can’t really happen.

While in Israel, we walk together, eat together, grumble over morning coffee together, nurse sunburn and hangovers together, and always retain our collective equanimity. And rather enjoy each other’s company. Quibbles and quarrels on occasion? Sure. Nothing meaningful though. No outbursts, no screaming, no arguments about politics — though that would be easy as we are — as I mentioned — of three generations (four if you count my two alphas), and hold wide-ranging views on wide-ranging political subjects.

Jaffa, Tel Aviv from Jaffa, Bet Guvrin National Park, Caesarea National Park

I’m most struck by my mother-in-law’s commitment to participate in pretty much every activity, even when physically demanding. She ducked into caves, swam in the ocean, marched up hills; she gets up early and stays up late; and makes sure to engage each of her 9 grandchildren in one on one conversations. Sure, she sat out kayaking and snorkeling. But there is no walk in 90 degree heat that she hasn’t gone on.

And here’s the thing — she just wants to. She wants to experience it all with her family. So she wills it to be so. No excuses — no I can’t do this, or I can’t do that. She just does it. Because she wants to be with her family and see her grandchildren enjoying and learning from it all.

She sets the example in terms of what it means to be a family. It means making the effort to be together. It means talking and laughing and maybe even quarreling but getting over it fast and then being together some more.

And that’s pretty darned cool.

My husband Daniel values family above all else. And it’s clear where he gets it from.

When Daniel’s father Michael died, my mother-in-law instructed the rabbi delivering the service to say that Michael had eight grandchildren (my daughter Ruth has upped that number to 9 now). No asterisks or clarifying clauses for the two step-grandchildren, my kids from my first marriage. Michael had eight grandchildren. Period.

And here we all are. Those eight grandchildren plus one new one, three siblings and their spouses, and one family-focused matriarch, though I suspect she’d hate being called such a thing.

We are old, young and middle aged. We are Jews and atheists. We are straight and gay. We are Post-war, Gen X, Gen Z and Alpha. We are she, he and they. We are Democrats and Independents and Libertarians. We are black and white. We are far left, radically centrist and “no idea.” And here we are, traipsing through Israel, learning about history, not arguing and just being a family.

Caesarea, Rosh Hanikra Grottoes, Metula, Safad - The Old City

I’ll let you know how it goes in Jerusalem. Then I’ll be heading home to sleep in my own bed and eat a few meals here and there that don’t contain hummus, which will be nice!