Old Jaffa

I'm free! Like a baby breaking out of its amniotic sac and escaping the womb, I'm free! I know how to escape the bubble-world of the Weizmann Institute during the Sabbath when everything closes. I discovered how to sneak beyond its gates!

Yesterday, I was determined to leave Rehovot. With all the shops, public transportation, and restaurants closed again for the holidays, I wasn't about to face another day of isolation at the Weizmann Institute. After doing some quick research on the internet, I ventured out onto Herzl street and as soon as I saw a big white van, I threw my right hand into the air to signal it. No, unlike in America where big white vans are notorious for their association with kidnappings, here in Israel they're linked with freedom! The vans, minibuses, or sherut (as the locals call them) are the only form of public transportation available seven days a week. The have set routes like a bus, but pick passengers up anywhere they're signaled along that route. Seating no more than ten people, they make for a cozy ride. Of course, just like on the buses, you have to put up with an odd sort of lot. Yesterday, there was an unkempt, soiled man carrying a pet parakeet in a cage (Gee, now that I think of it, I hope the bird was his pet and not his soon-to-be dinner!).

I took the minibus all the way to its final destination, the central bus station in Tel Aviv, and from there I walked to the section of the city known as Old Jaffa. I almost made it there my previous trip to Tel Aviv (you can see it in one of the photos of the sea from my earlier blog entry), but yesterday I was prepared. With me, I carried a traveler's guide that Mom gave me before I left. Complete with a general map of Tel Aviv and interesting facts, it came in quite useful.

Old Jaffa (or Joppa) is the one of the oldest ports in the world, dating back to the 20th century BC. According to the Bible, it was built by Noah's son Japheth after the flood. It's an extremely beautiful part of Tel Aviv. Apart from the exhausting heat of the sun, it was vary pleasant to stroll through the park and the alley-ways, visiting various artist shops. When I first arrived, it was lunch-time so I picked up something from a little stand in the main square. A Muslim woman was making fresh tortilla-like dough which she stretched to the size of a large pizza! Then, another worker at the stand would cook the dough on a skillet and add fresh hummus, a sprinkle of dried herbs and spices, and a mixture of what looked to be basil and onion (a sort of pesto). Though the pictures may not suggest it, my lunch was very tasty.

My Israeli-style "burrito"

After eating my culturally-inspired meal on a park-bench, I walked across the Wishing Bridge. Legend says that if you hold the bronze sculpture on the bridge that corresponds to your zodiac, any wish you make will come true! I made a wish while touching Capricorn and hoped for the best. On the other side of the bridge I visited the Gan-ha Pisga Garden where the Statue of Faith sculpture sits and where you can see an overarching view of Tel Aviv.

Statue of Faith

Monastery of St. Peter

View of the sea from Old Jaffa

Old Jaffa stairway

St. Michael's Church in OldJaffa

more Old Jaffa

By far, the most exhilarating part of my visit to Old Jaffa was seeing the door to the "House of Simon the Tanner." True, it was just a door like any other door, but the House of Simon the Tanner is in the Bible where the apostle Peter once stayed (Acts 9:43). I admit, the site wasn't especially brilliant to see or of exceptional religious interest, but it was still moving to stand somewhere so ancient…to be in a place that was written about in the Bible. Nearby the House of Simon, there was a large dusty window where people of all nations had wiped away the dust and scrawled brief messages with their fingers: "Romania," "Yeshua," "Eva." I was surprised to see how respected the place was—nobody had scrawled the words "Wash Me" into the dirty window pane.

House of Simon the Tanner and nearby window

By mid-afternoon, I left Old Jaffa and shuffled barefoot along the beach. It was very crowded, more so than when I went on Friday, but it was still refreshing to feel the sand and water between my toes (today I smartly wore a pair of sandals—mainly to avoid getting more blisters!). Along my stroll, I took note of both the array of different body-types as well as the outrageous number of Crocs people were wearing on their feet. Eventually I reached a boardwalk with little beach restaurants and I bought myself a coconut and chocolate ice-cream waffle cone. The ice-cream was cool and refreshing, and a little soft on the palate from the heat of the sun. It was also advertised as being kosher—this means that they probably weren't serving it with any caramelized bacon bits! (Here's a recipe for a bacon ice-cream that I read before leaving the States, if you're interested. Sounds mighty good!: http://www.davidlebovitz.com/archives/2008/03/candied_bacon_i_1.html).

With the remainder of my afternoon coming to a close, I ambled about the rest of Tel Aviv. As in Rehovot, all the shops were closed except for the occasional café and convenience store. I visited the city hall, a rather dull, rectangular office building as well as the main square where a lot of summer concerts are held. I walked by the Museum of Art, which was also closed, but was nonetheless an interesting building , adorned with bronze sculptures of city people and other slightly less distinguishable sculptures that appeared to be obese melting women. Along my walk, I spotted a man wearing nothing but underwear who just stood at the street corner, incessantly pressing the cross-walk button, even when the walk signal lit up. I also saw a clean-cut old man in a plaid shirt twirling a paper-clip in his fingers. He would twirl the paper clip and follow the direction that it pointed (though one too many times the direction that it pointed was towards a car, a car which he would saunter up to try to open with his office supply). Perhaps the old man was using the paper-clip like dowsers use to find water. If this is the case, I should get a paper-clip so I don't get lost so often—lately I've been relying on the position of the sun to know the direction I'm going! This is not very helpful when the sun goes down. (Note to self: must figure out where the North Star is or study other constellations).

Because I wanted to take the train back to the Weizmann Institute and they didn't start running until 9:00, I headed to the Old Port which is located along the Mediterranean at the opposite end of Tel Aviv from Old Jaffa. There, I ate dinner (grilled chicken breast-yum!) at a café overlooking the water. I watched the sun dip below the horizon and walked slowly over to the train station (along a well-lit main street with open cafes and many pedestrians…Mom).

Sunset at the Old Port

The train-ride back to Rehovot was serene. I gazed blankly as car lights and street lamps passed by in the night, and thought of my day. Just as much as I like waiting at the airport (I really do enjoy this), I find it very pleasant to wait at the train station and sit on the train. All of the people at the station were students returning from the holiday weekend or young soldiers in training, making the atmosphere one of relief and satisfaction as the day drew to a close. When I finally got back to Rehovot, I took a warm shower and headed off to bed.