Sometimes you travel thousands of miles only to find an experience
you could have enjoyed from around your corner.
Other times, you travel thousands of miles only to find an experience
that, well, you can only find thousands of miles away. We experienced a little of both today.
For one thing, this is the first time I have ever
blogged. I’ve never before tweeted and I
don’t Facebook, so this is my first active social media experience. I didn’t need
to fly all the way to Israel to join this revolution, but I did.
Also on the subject of finding something 6,000
miles away that you could have experienced at home, we found ourselves lunching
in Jaffa next to a lovely American family.
The dad and I started to chat, and he told me he was from New Jersey. I told him where I was from, and he mentioned
that he had a brother who lives in Great Neck.
And just like that, we found ourselves in Israel with a family of Seidenbergs
– not Marc, Carol and their kids from Temple Israel, but Marc's brother Keith, who provided us with
our first great small world story of the trip.
Of all the places in the world, and all the cafes in Israel, at all
times of the day, we were sitting having lunch in Jaffa next to the brother of
our Temple Israel friend.
The picture is below – he looks just like his brother.
Thankfully, on several occasions, we were reminded today that
there are some experiences that can only be enjoyed right here. For example, as much as we try to comprehend
the enormous struggle we endured to establish this state, it never quite hits
home the way it did as when we visited the Ayalon Institute in Rehovot this
morning. To the normal eye in the 1940’s,
Ayalon was just a kibbutz on a hill. But
staircases running underneath the laundry room and bakery took 46 covert workers
to the one place that manufactured all the bullets used in the War for
Independence. We descended into the
perfectly preserved underground factory, hidden even from the regular kibbutz
workers, referred to as “giraffes” – they had a perfect view of everything
happening above ground, but had no idea what was going on below their
feet. My son Jonah kept saying how incredible
it was that over just a few years, 5 million bullets could be secretly manufactured
one-by-one by 46 people -- 45 plus the one converted giraffe that had wandered into the
laundry room to wash a diaper when it was accidentally left unlocked.
Speaking of Jonah, two final thoughts:
First, only here at the port of Jaffa could we stand at the spot where a
different Jonah set sail for what was supposed to be Ninevah. This
sensation is truly unique.
And second, Jonah from Great Neck North High School was able
to explain to me the concept of a League of Nations mandate, something he had recently learned in history class. This
helped me understand and appreciate the drama that was re-enacted for us at our
afternoon visit to Independence Hall, the site of David Ben-Gurion’s monumental
proclamation of the State of Israel in May 1948. We sat in that very room as a recording
played parts of Ben-Gurion’s speech, the sh’hechianu blessing delivered in a shaking
voice by the rabbi present at the ceremony, and the orchestra’s actual rendition of Hatikvah. This, for me, was the highlight of our first
full day. I’ve stood countless times for
the playing of Hatikvah, but never like this.
For an experience like this, I really needed to travel the 6,000 miles.
Last, last thing:
Happy, Happy Anniversary to the Steckers, on behalf of all the Holy
Trekkers.
- -- Ron Klempner
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