The Golan Heights, Lebanon, Syria, and A Long and Winding Road (Winding Down, That Is)
I'm sure everyone will be glad to hear that I have fully recovered from my ordeal last Shabbat in Beit Shemesh. After speaking with the Madrichim and doing dome thinking of my own, I was able to sort out what I should keep and throw out as far as understanding and learning something from the situation. Saturday morning, I woke up, went to breakfast, and although reluctantly (thanks to Ray for convincing me), I went to T'Fillah. At the beginning of the service, I went into my pocket to get my kippa, and found myself hesitating to put it on. After a short pause, I put my kippa on, and it was far more noticeable then than it had ever been on my head. By the end of the service, however, I was singing and having one hell of a time, and decided that the "religious" putzes that jumped me can shove their opinions up...err...in Heaven.
Sunday, we left Tzuba once again for our two-day Security and Borders Tiyul. Leaving Jerusalem and heading towards Tel Aviv on Highway 1, our bus turned onto the high-tech toll road Highway 6 and headed due north. At one point along this gorgeous stretch of road, one sees fields all the way to the ocean on the left-hand side. Looking to the right, a view is presented of the Arab city of Tulkarem and the numerous villages surrounding it, all sitting in the territory known to most of the world as the West Bank. On November 29, 1947, (Kaf-Tet B'November) the UN General Assembly approved the UN Partition Plan of the Middle East. This plan laid out a map of the area, giving part to the Arabs living there, and giving the other part to be established as a Jewish state, the future Israel. On May 15, 1948, Israel declared its' independence as a nation among all other nations, and no later than 12 hours later the armed forces of the entire Arab world descended on the small, infant Israel. Against all odds, the Israeli forces fought and won, not only defending their own territory but gaining more than the UN had previously alotted. The war ended, and Israel's borders were set according to what is known as the Green Line, an imaginary line that separates the Arab territory from Israel. Until 1967, Jerusalem was a divided city, with Jews unable to go into the Old City to pray at the Western Wall. In 1967, with Arab forces massing on her borders, Israel launched a preemptive strike, and after the war gained even more territory--namely control of the Gaza Strip, West Bank, Golan Heights, and continuing control over the Sinai Peninsula and Suez Canal (captured in 1956 Sinai Campaign). This is the modern state of Israel's borders, minus the Sinai Peninsula (given back in exchange for peace with Egypt), and is the source of much controversy today.
Our first stop was in Barta'a, near the city of Umm El-Fakhm, inside the West Bank. A few years ago, we would have been shot at by snipers while driving through the town, but the area is now safe for travel, thanks to the focus of our stopping: the Israeli Security Barrier. After the Disengagment of the Gaza Strip in the summer of 2005, in which 9,000 Israeli settlers were evacuated in 4 days from the area in order to enhance Arab-Israeli relations, Israel saw no positive results. The Disengagement was a last-ditch attempt to stop the 2nd Intifada, which began in 2000 and, for all intensive purposes, continues to this day. At its height in 2003 and 2004, one Palestinian would come into an Israeli city, settlement, kibbutz, bus station, train, or any public place, and commit an act of terror--ranging from shootings, stabbings, killing of infants and children, all the way to the infamous suicide bombings. Every day on the radio, Israelis heard about the daily death toll after some Palestinian strapped explosives to himself and walked to his target. The country lived in fear (and still does) constantly.
To combat this, a huge project was put into effect: to build a physical barrier to prevent Palestinians from getting into Israel to commit acts of terror. At present, there is a chain-link fence running the length of the Green Line, and in some places a concrete barrier system has been erected if necessary. In Jerusalem and along the highways, the concrete barrier is in place to prevent snipers from shooting cars and civilians, but only 3% of the entire barrier is made of concrete. For a Palestinian to come into Israel, they must first get through a checkpoint where IDF soldiers determine whether their motives are good or not. In one instance, a pregnant woman was rushed to the hospital, and upon arriving at the checkpoint, the IDF found explosives strapped to the seats of the ambulance. Since the implementation of the barrier, terror has seen as more than 70% decrease. For those that would like to argue about the humanitarian aspects and the effects on the Palestinians, the sentiment in Israel is that any inconvenience justifies preventing terrorism from happening on a daily basis. The security barrier is one of the reasons I was able to come live in Israel, and I have no objections to it.
After this, we continued north for a few hours until we came to an IDF outpost about 20 minutes from Kiryat Shmoneh, a city in the news a great deal this past summer because of its involvement in the Lebanese War. From here, we could throw a rock and hit a Lebanese house. The border was under our noses, as were the craters and burned-out patches of mountainside from Ketyusha rockets hitting this summer. Here, we spoke of the 1st Lebanon War, which lasted from 1982 to 2000, and was largely controlled by Hizbullah, the terrorist organization that took hold of the country at the end of the 70's. Many thought that this was to be the only Lebanon War, but in August of this past year (2006), an Israeli soldier, Gilad Shalit, was kidnapped from his post and taken captive. Two other soldiers were captured as well, and all intelligence showed them being in the hands of Hizbullah. Israel has an official policy of "no soldier left behind", and this applies in all situations. An elite force was sent into Lebanon to attempt to rescue the captive soldiers, but to no avail. Soon thereafter, with rockets flying over the Naphtali Ridge and hitting all of Northern Israel from Kiryat Shmoneh to Haifa, the IDF and IAF worked together in what we now know as the 2nd Lebanon War, bombing all of Beirut and Lebanon to insure that the soldiers wouldn't be transported somewhere else where rescue would be impossible.
Deaths tolls on each side were numerous, but the Lebanese toll was far worse because of the destruction of infrastructure and property. At one point, the Lebanese President was seen on TV begging Israel, with tears on his face, to stop the barrage. Ill-prepared and with public opinion against them, the IDF pulled out of Lebanon exactly one month later, on August 14th (two weeks before I left). None of the soldiers have been returned yet, but the border is relatively quiet and hope remains that this will stay stable for a while. At present, a negotiation is being made for the release of Gilad Shalit--if he is returned alive, Israel will release 1000 Palestinian prisoners. This is how serious Israel is about getting their soldiers back.
We had a nice picnic-style lunch overlooking the Hula Valley, still a mere 50 meters from the Lebanese border, and I thought on how such a beautiful nof ("view") could be the cause and place of so much death and destruction.
From here, we had another long-ish bus ride to Tel Dan. On the way, we drove through Kiryat Shmoneh and other towns that were hit hard this summer by the war. Signs were still abundant of the destruction of the Ketyushas, including hundreds of burned patches on the side of the Naphtali Ridge overlooking the towns, as well as houses still in shambles and plots deserted. Groves of trees near the center of town were half-burnt down. But, as in all places in Israel, no matter what happens, life goes on. The citizens have returned and were rebuilding, and most of the damage was masked by the beautiful new developements built, with the red roofs and white stone.
On to Tel Dan, the northern-most nature reserve in the pre-67 borders of Israel. Here, we saw the root of one of the main reasons for violence in this region: water. The Jordan River runs along Israel's Eastern border, and is the main source of water for Israel and Jordan. During many of the various wars, most notably the Yom Kippur War in 1973, the countries north (Syria, Lebanon) would attempt to block the water source, essentially drying up the country. There are three rivers that run into the Jordan River, and one of those is the Dan. The blocking of water never succeeded, but is still a threat today to Israel's existence. Without water, her most important asset, Israel would perish.
At Tel Dan, as well as seeing a gushing, rushing river, we saw a rather shocking sight. On the tel sits an ancient Israelite city, founded by the 10 tribes that split in the time of the First Temple. In 920 BCE, the 12 Tribes of Israel split into North and South, with the 10 tribes of Israel in the north and the tribes of Judah in the south. The tribes of Judah conquered the Israelites in 722 BCE, erasing any history the northern kingdom has established. Well, this is the history that we saw.
In the northern kingdom, specifically here at Tel Dan, there existed a large walled city rivalling early Jerusalem. The biggest discovery was that of a Temple, and this also rivalled the Temple in Jerusalem. Not only do these exist, but they are backed up by quotes from the Tanakh (Bible). Basically, this shows that there existed a thriving Jewish presence in the northern kingdom, and that the southern tribes may have conquered them out of fear and competition. This causes us to rethink many things, including the concept of "the winner writing history". This is the case, and many stories were altered by the Northern kingdom later in Second Temple times to be to their favor--most notably the story of the Golden Calf, which it turns out was placed in a temple in the Northern kingdom out of heroism, by a fellow named Jerobam. He was basically another Moses figure, but the Southern kingdom didn't like idols, so they altered the story to make him a bad guy.
After I collected some nice pottery to add to my collection, we went to what could possibly be the most spiritual place central to Jews in the land of Israel: kibbutz Naot Mordechai, where the famous Naot brand shoes are made. Basically, they are the Israeli Birkenstock, but better...because they're made in Israel. The kibbutz thrives off this market, and has virtually no agriculture that I am aware of. While everyone else went inside and bought entirely over-priced shoes, I sat on the lawn and watched the sun set over the Naphtali Ridge in a blaze of flame, while the moon rose in the other direction, settling right behind the flag of Israel.
From here, we headed up the slopes of Mt. Hermon, the highest point in Israel outside of the 1967 borders, since it sits in the Golan Heights, about 20 minutes from the Syrian border. There is a field school there, and this is where we settled down for the night. We watched an Israeli film that I highly recommend, "The Syrian Bride", that talks about another religion in this region--Druze. We'll talk more about the Druze later in this entry, but go get that movie. It's funny and gives an accurate representation of the tensions in the area. Walking along the path to my room, I found a spot to sit and enjoy the cold, windy view of the entire Hula Valley at night, filled with lights of kibbutzim and moshavim--and the lights of Lebanon not far away.
In the morning, we woke up and got right back on the bus, taking a drive along roads lined with eucalyptus trees (for protection from Syrian sniper fire), crossing the Jordan River (which used to be the border of Israel and Syria), and coming to a spot called Mitzpe Gadot, the Gadot lookout point. This used to be a Syrian outpost, overlooking the Hula Valley and many kibbutzim. We were now in the Golan Heights. Here in the Golan, there is evidence of 27 Beit Knesset (temples) and over 300 yeshuvim (settlements) from the Biblical Period, as well as biblical references. After the fall of the Ottoman Empire, the British and French went back and forth over who occupied it, until Syria gained the rights to the land in the 1920's. Prior to this, four major attempts had been made by Jewish settlers to settle the Golan, all resulting in failure. The Golan Heights are so named because the area is a massive plateau, sitting 900 meters above sea level, which left the Syrians an open opportunity to wreak havoc on the Jews sitting in the valley below.
After the founding of the state of Israel in 1948, the lives of "Golani" settlers (Israelis living in the area) was, as an understatement, a living Hell. Day in and day out, they were shelled on, shot at, and raided by the Syrians. The eucalyptus trees were planted along roads to hide movements of cars and people. There are even accounts of Syrians coming into a kibbutz in the middle of the night and murdering two 4-year old boys while they slept, then leaving undetected. The lives of the settlers here cannot be described accurately, except for being a living Hell.
In 1967, Israel conquered the Golan Heights in the Six Day War, and took control of all those that didn't flee back to Syria--mainly a cooperative Druze population and a not-so-cooperative population of around 50,000 cows. To this day, the Golan remains Israeli land, and was annexed in 1981. However, Syria doesn't recognize this, so you can see where trouble might arise. The area we were in was a memorial to the soldiers that fell to capture and defend the Golan, and was surrounded by fences with odd red triangles on them. After reading the signs in Hebrew, we asked for a translation:
"DANGER: MINE FIELD"
Evidently, the Syrians knew they were losing, and planted hundreds of thousands of anti-personnel mines in the area to discourage Israelis from getting to it. We were told that every few days, a cow walks in and goes KABLOOEE, providing the settlers with hamburgers. That's why the fences are there. As the morning wore on, we drove further into the Golan, eventually reaching a spot known as Har Bental--Mt. Bental, which is an extinct-ish volcano (no one's sure if it's dormant of not) lying right on the Syrian border.
This mountaintop was one of the main outposts during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, when a line of 1000 Syrian tanks massed on the border and advanced on the Golan, capturing Mt Hermon. The few Israelis at Mt Bental were left with the task of defending with only 3 tanks at their disposal. The breakdown was something like 20 Israeli soldiers against several hundred Syrians. One story in particular stood out, that of Tsvika Greengold. This young man jumped into action, got his 3 tanks out onto the field, and fought for 36 hours straight, finally ending up in the only remaining functioning tank fighting off the Syrian tanks until reinforcements arrived. Thanks to him and others like him, the northern border held, and many speculate that if not for soldiers like Greengold, the state of Israel would have been completely demolished in the Yom Kippur War. The most impacting sight for me was seeing the border of Syria below us, with the ghost towns straddling the dark brown road, and looking into the crater of the former volcano only to find a Syrian tank left over from 1973 sitting there with its barrel pointed towards the border. This sentinel shows that eyes are always pointed to Syria to watch over the clear and present danger that lies along all of Israel's northern border.
You could imagine that exploring the bunkers and tunnels of a former volcano-turned-Israel-outpost would make some teenagers hungry, so we headed over to kibbutz Al Rom for pizza, and while there, saw a movie called Oz 77. This movie documented the experiences of many on the kibbutz and others that fought in the Yom Kippur War. For many, including the man that spoke to us before the movie, the war isn't very far in the past. He remembers the tanks advancing, and hearing the IDF on loudspeakers outside his house at 1pm (1 hours before the attack) ordering them to gather their belongings and load onto trucks to be evacuated south--unless they were reservists, in which case they were to report to the dining hall of the kibbutz to be given gear and a weapon. The war threatened not only lives but the existence of the country, and it was the bravery of a small number of young men that kept Israel alive.
From here, we had the opportunity to go for a hike along the Banyas River, another tributary of the Jordan River. The drive took us through the hills, past a huge Crusader fortress, over some cows--don't worry, the bovine roadblock was dispersed by a small Druze man with a stick. The north has got to be one of the most beautiful places in Israel, if not in the world. After hiking around and seeing some old flour mills, as well as a massive cave that used to be a huge Roman period temple. Above, on the cliff, the tomb of the Druze main prophet was perched overlooking the river. This was a nice relaxing little trek, especially since we orginially weren't going to have time to do such.
On our way back to Tzuba (the center of the Jewish world), we stopped near Haifa in Dalyat Al-Carmel, a Druze village situated right on top of Mt. Carmel. The lights of Haifa are night are beautiful--even the two nuclear reactors they have are lit with green and blue to fit in with the rest of the night skyline. In the village, we went to a host house and had authentic Druze food and learned about some of the religion. In the 11th century, the Druze were became an offshoot of Islam, and have been a closed religion since then. The only way to become a Druze is to be born to Druze parents, and one must marry Druze to stay Druze. This is also a "secret" religion, in which one decides his/her own path at age 15. If one chooses to become religious, they enter the secret part of the religion, whereas the others choose to stay secular. The food was amazing, and finding out about this religion was really neat, especially since the Druze fought beside the Israelis in each successive war--with the exception of the Golani Druze, who are still loyal to Syria.
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After our meal, it was back to Tzuba, where we got our new room assignments for the remainder of the trip. Yay for front room to myself! I like my space, alright? Although I do find it somewhat sad that my entire life fits into 16 drawers and one suitcase...oh well.
Now the semester is winding down. We only have 3 weeks left, and finals are coming up next week. Friday morning, after finishing our 5767 years of Jewish History curriculum, we went to the homes of our Hebrew teachers for breakfast and kibbitzing (talking...sort of). This was fun, espcially since we made a music video for an Israeli songwriter's song as a special project.
Friday evening, we went to a really cool shul. Out of the 28 of us still here, all but 9 of us went out for the weekend. We went into Jerusalem and arrived at a house, then went up two stories--and lo and behold, there was a room full of Jews preparing for T'filah. There, we sang niguns (Chasidic tunes) and had a grand ole time, then came back to the kibbutz for a relatively quiet weekend. After watching the movie "Walk on Water", another good Israeli film, I took some quiet time and have begun preparing to make the final slideshow and video for our Final Banquet.
Last night (Saturday), we went to Shira's (our J. History teacher) house for dinner and more kibbitzing. Oh, almost forgot:
I read the first two portions of this week's Torah portion at Saturday morning T'fillah! Go me!
In any case, it seems as if everything we're now doing is preparing for the end. I really can't wait to get home, and to see everyone again. At the same time, I love this place and don't want to leave...but all good things must come to an end, as it is said. I'm coming to realize fully how amazing of an experience this is, and I'm committed to making these last 24 days the best they can be--I've been throwing up for the past 12 hours, and had to miss the tiyul to the Israel Supreme Court this morning, but I'm going to get un-sick-ified and make this the best damn three weeks ever.
Now, I'm off to make some tea and go to classes; hopefully my stomach will hold up and I can stay well for today. I'm becoming a bit sad just thinking about the end, but it's time to live in the present and make the most of it.
Our Hebrew final is on Friday, and the rest of our exams are next week. Chanukah starts Friday night, and I'm really looking forward to celebrating Chanukah in Israel. After exams, we're headed to the Negev Desert for a week-long hike across/through it, ending up at Eilat, the southern-most point in Israel, right on the Red Sea. I'll update again as soon as something blogworthy comes up, and other than that, keep in mind that I still love getting e-mails and mail.
Shavua Tov (Have a good week),
--Aron
aronaltmark@aol.com
Aron Altmark
NFTY-EIE High School
Kibbutz Tzuba
90870 D.N. Harei Yehuda
ISRAEL
**Please be sure to mark all letters with, “AIRMAIL.”
Sunday, we left Tzuba once again for our two-day Security and Borders Tiyul. Leaving Jerusalem and heading towards Tel Aviv on Highway 1, our bus turned onto the high-tech toll road Highway 6 and headed due north. At one point along this gorgeous stretch of road, one sees fields all the way to the ocean on the left-hand side. Looking to the right, a view is presented of the Arab city of Tulkarem and the numerous villages surrounding it, all sitting in the territory known to most of the world as the West Bank. On November 29, 1947, (Kaf-Tet B'November) the UN General Assembly approved the UN Partition Plan of the Middle East. This plan laid out a map of the area, giving part to the Arabs living there, and giving the other part to be established as a Jewish state, the future Israel. On May 15, 1948, Israel declared its' independence as a nation among all other nations, and no later than 12 hours later the armed forces of the entire Arab world descended on the small, infant Israel. Against all odds, the Israeli forces fought and won, not only defending their own territory but gaining more than the UN had previously alotted. The war ended, and Israel's borders were set according to what is known as the Green Line, an imaginary line that separates the Arab territory from Israel. Until 1967, Jerusalem was a divided city, with Jews unable to go into the Old City to pray at the Western Wall. In 1967, with Arab forces massing on her borders, Israel launched a preemptive strike, and after the war gained even more territory--namely control of the Gaza Strip, West Bank, Golan Heights, and continuing control over the Sinai Peninsula and Suez Canal (captured in 1956 Sinai Campaign). This is the modern state of Israel's borders, minus the Sinai Peninsula (given back in exchange for peace with Egypt), and is the source of much controversy today.
Our first stop was in Barta'a, near the city of Umm El-Fakhm, inside the West Bank. A few years ago, we would have been shot at by snipers while driving through the town, but the area is now safe for travel, thanks to the focus of our stopping: the Israeli Security Barrier. After the Disengagment of the Gaza Strip in the summer of 2005, in which 9,000 Israeli settlers were evacuated in 4 days from the area in order to enhance Arab-Israeli relations, Israel saw no positive results. The Disengagement was a last-ditch attempt to stop the 2nd Intifada, which began in 2000 and, for all intensive purposes, continues to this day. At its height in 2003 and 2004, one Palestinian would come into an Israeli city, settlement, kibbutz, bus station, train, or any public place, and commit an act of terror--ranging from shootings, stabbings, killing of infants and children, all the way to the infamous suicide bombings. Every day on the radio, Israelis heard about the daily death toll after some Palestinian strapped explosives to himself and walked to his target. The country lived in fear (and still does) constantly.
To combat this, a huge project was put into effect: to build a physical barrier to prevent Palestinians from getting into Israel to commit acts of terror. At present, there is a chain-link fence running the length of the Green Line, and in some places a concrete barrier system has been erected if necessary. In Jerusalem and along the highways, the concrete barrier is in place to prevent snipers from shooting cars and civilians, but only 3% of the entire barrier is made of concrete. For a Palestinian to come into Israel, they must first get through a checkpoint where IDF soldiers determine whether their motives are good or not. In one instance, a pregnant woman was rushed to the hospital, and upon arriving at the checkpoint, the IDF found explosives strapped to the seats of the ambulance. Since the implementation of the barrier, terror has seen as more than 70% decrease. For those that would like to argue about the humanitarian aspects and the effects on the Palestinians, the sentiment in Israel is that any inconvenience justifies preventing terrorism from happening on a daily basis. The security barrier is one of the reasons I was able to come live in Israel, and I have no objections to it.
After this, we continued north for a few hours until we came to an IDF outpost about 20 minutes from Kiryat Shmoneh, a city in the news a great deal this past summer because of its involvement in the Lebanese War. From here, we could throw a rock and hit a Lebanese house. The border was under our noses, as were the craters and burned-out patches of mountainside from Ketyusha rockets hitting this summer. Here, we spoke of the 1st Lebanon War, which lasted from 1982 to 2000, and was largely controlled by Hizbullah, the terrorist organization that took hold of the country at the end of the 70's. Many thought that this was to be the only Lebanon War, but in August of this past year (2006), an Israeli soldier, Gilad Shalit, was kidnapped from his post and taken captive. Two other soldiers were captured as well, and all intelligence showed them being in the hands of Hizbullah. Israel has an official policy of "no soldier left behind", and this applies in all situations. An elite force was sent into Lebanon to attempt to rescue the captive soldiers, but to no avail. Soon thereafter, with rockets flying over the Naphtali Ridge and hitting all of Northern Israel from Kiryat Shmoneh to Haifa, the IDF and IAF worked together in what we now know as the 2nd Lebanon War, bombing all of Beirut and Lebanon to insure that the soldiers wouldn't be transported somewhere else where rescue would be impossible.
Deaths tolls on each side were numerous, but the Lebanese toll was far worse because of the destruction of infrastructure and property. At one point, the Lebanese President was seen on TV begging Israel, with tears on his face, to stop the barrage. Ill-prepared and with public opinion against them, the IDF pulled out of Lebanon exactly one month later, on August 14th (two weeks before I left). None of the soldiers have been returned yet, but the border is relatively quiet and hope remains that this will stay stable for a while. At present, a negotiation is being made for the release of Gilad Shalit--if he is returned alive, Israel will release 1000 Palestinian prisoners. This is how serious Israel is about getting their soldiers back.
We had a nice picnic-style lunch overlooking the Hula Valley, still a mere 50 meters from the Lebanese border, and I thought on how such a beautiful nof ("view") could be the cause and place of so much death and destruction.
From here, we had another long-ish bus ride to Tel Dan. On the way, we drove through Kiryat Shmoneh and other towns that were hit hard this summer by the war. Signs were still abundant of the destruction of the Ketyushas, including hundreds of burned patches on the side of the Naphtali Ridge overlooking the towns, as well as houses still in shambles and plots deserted. Groves of trees near the center of town were half-burnt down. But, as in all places in Israel, no matter what happens, life goes on. The citizens have returned and were rebuilding, and most of the damage was masked by the beautiful new developements built, with the red roofs and white stone.
On to Tel Dan, the northern-most nature reserve in the pre-67 borders of Israel. Here, we saw the root of one of the main reasons for violence in this region: water. The Jordan River runs along Israel's Eastern border, and is the main source of water for Israel and Jordan. During many of the various wars, most notably the Yom Kippur War in 1973, the countries north (Syria, Lebanon) would attempt to block the water source, essentially drying up the country. There are three rivers that run into the Jordan River, and one of those is the Dan. The blocking of water never succeeded, but is still a threat today to Israel's existence. Without water, her most important asset, Israel would perish.
At Tel Dan, as well as seeing a gushing, rushing river, we saw a rather shocking sight. On the tel sits an ancient Israelite city, founded by the 10 tribes that split in the time of the First Temple. In 920 BCE, the 12 Tribes of Israel split into North and South, with the 10 tribes of Israel in the north and the tribes of Judah in the south. The tribes of Judah conquered the Israelites in 722 BCE, erasing any history the northern kingdom has established. Well, this is the history that we saw.
In the northern kingdom, specifically here at Tel Dan, there existed a large walled city rivalling early Jerusalem. The biggest discovery was that of a Temple, and this also rivalled the Temple in Jerusalem. Not only do these exist, but they are backed up by quotes from the Tanakh (Bible). Basically, this shows that there existed a thriving Jewish presence in the northern kingdom, and that the southern tribes may have conquered them out of fear and competition. This causes us to rethink many things, including the concept of "the winner writing history". This is the case, and many stories were altered by the Northern kingdom later in Second Temple times to be to their favor--most notably the story of the Golden Calf, which it turns out was placed in a temple in the Northern kingdom out of heroism, by a fellow named Jerobam. He was basically another Moses figure, but the Southern kingdom didn't like idols, so they altered the story to make him a bad guy.
After I collected some nice pottery to add to my collection, we went to what could possibly be the most spiritual place central to Jews in the land of Israel: kibbutz Naot Mordechai, where the famous Naot brand shoes are made. Basically, they are the Israeli Birkenstock, but better...because they're made in Israel. The kibbutz thrives off this market, and has virtually no agriculture that I am aware of. While everyone else went inside and bought entirely over-priced shoes, I sat on the lawn and watched the sun set over the Naphtali Ridge in a blaze of flame, while the moon rose in the other direction, settling right behind the flag of Israel.
From here, we headed up the slopes of Mt. Hermon, the highest point in Israel outside of the 1967 borders, since it sits in the Golan Heights, about 20 minutes from the Syrian border. There is a field school there, and this is where we settled down for the night. We watched an Israeli film that I highly recommend, "The Syrian Bride", that talks about another religion in this region--Druze. We'll talk more about the Druze later in this entry, but go get that movie. It's funny and gives an accurate representation of the tensions in the area. Walking along the path to my room, I found a spot to sit and enjoy the cold, windy view of the entire Hula Valley at night, filled with lights of kibbutzim and moshavim--and the lights of Lebanon not far away.
In the morning, we woke up and got right back on the bus, taking a drive along roads lined with eucalyptus trees (for protection from Syrian sniper fire), crossing the Jordan River (which used to be the border of Israel and Syria), and coming to a spot called Mitzpe Gadot, the Gadot lookout point. This used to be a Syrian outpost, overlooking the Hula Valley and many kibbutzim. We were now in the Golan Heights. Here in the Golan, there is evidence of 27 Beit Knesset (temples) and over 300 yeshuvim (settlements) from the Biblical Period, as well as biblical references. After the fall of the Ottoman Empire, the British and French went back and forth over who occupied it, until Syria gained the rights to the land in the 1920's. Prior to this, four major attempts had been made by Jewish settlers to settle the Golan, all resulting in failure. The Golan Heights are so named because the area is a massive plateau, sitting 900 meters above sea level, which left the Syrians an open opportunity to wreak havoc on the Jews sitting in the valley below.
After the founding of the state of Israel in 1948, the lives of "Golani" settlers (Israelis living in the area) was, as an understatement, a living Hell. Day in and day out, they were shelled on, shot at, and raided by the Syrians. The eucalyptus trees were planted along roads to hide movements of cars and people. There are even accounts of Syrians coming into a kibbutz in the middle of the night and murdering two 4-year old boys while they slept, then leaving undetected. The lives of the settlers here cannot be described accurately, except for being a living Hell.
In 1967, Israel conquered the Golan Heights in the Six Day War, and took control of all those that didn't flee back to Syria--mainly a cooperative Druze population and a not-so-cooperative population of around 50,000 cows. To this day, the Golan remains Israeli land, and was annexed in 1981. However, Syria doesn't recognize this, so you can see where trouble might arise. The area we were in was a memorial to the soldiers that fell to capture and defend the Golan, and was surrounded by fences with odd red triangles on them. After reading the signs in Hebrew, we asked for a translation:
"DANGER: MINE FIELD"
Evidently, the Syrians knew they were losing, and planted hundreds of thousands of anti-personnel mines in the area to discourage Israelis from getting to it. We were told that every few days, a cow walks in and goes KABLOOEE, providing the settlers with hamburgers. That's why the fences are there. As the morning wore on, we drove further into the Golan, eventually reaching a spot known as Har Bental--Mt. Bental, which is an extinct-ish volcano (no one's sure if it's dormant of not) lying right on the Syrian border.
This mountaintop was one of the main outposts during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, when a line of 1000 Syrian tanks massed on the border and advanced on the Golan, capturing Mt Hermon. The few Israelis at Mt Bental were left with the task of defending with only 3 tanks at their disposal. The breakdown was something like 20 Israeli soldiers against several hundred Syrians. One story in particular stood out, that of Tsvika Greengold. This young man jumped into action, got his 3 tanks out onto the field, and fought for 36 hours straight, finally ending up in the only remaining functioning tank fighting off the Syrian tanks until reinforcements arrived. Thanks to him and others like him, the northern border held, and many speculate that if not for soldiers like Greengold, the state of Israel would have been completely demolished in the Yom Kippur War. The most impacting sight for me was seeing the border of Syria below us, with the ghost towns straddling the dark brown road, and looking into the crater of the former volcano only to find a Syrian tank left over from 1973 sitting there with its barrel pointed towards the border. This sentinel shows that eyes are always pointed to Syria to watch over the clear and present danger that lies along all of Israel's northern border.
You could imagine that exploring the bunkers and tunnels of a former volcano-turned-Israel-outpost would make some teenagers hungry, so we headed over to kibbutz Al Rom for pizza, and while there, saw a movie called Oz 77. This movie documented the experiences of many on the kibbutz and others that fought in the Yom Kippur War. For many, including the man that spoke to us before the movie, the war isn't very far in the past. He remembers the tanks advancing, and hearing the IDF on loudspeakers outside his house at 1pm (1 hours before the attack) ordering them to gather their belongings and load onto trucks to be evacuated south--unless they were reservists, in which case they were to report to the dining hall of the kibbutz to be given gear and a weapon. The war threatened not only lives but the existence of the country, and it was the bravery of a small number of young men that kept Israel alive.
From here, we had the opportunity to go for a hike along the Banyas River, another tributary of the Jordan River. The drive took us through the hills, past a huge Crusader fortress, over some cows--don't worry, the bovine roadblock was dispersed by a small Druze man with a stick. The north has got to be one of the most beautiful places in Israel, if not in the world. After hiking around and seeing some old flour mills, as well as a massive cave that used to be a huge Roman period temple. Above, on the cliff, the tomb of the Druze main prophet was perched overlooking the river. This was a nice relaxing little trek, especially since we orginially weren't going to have time to do such.
On our way back to Tzuba (the center of the Jewish world), we stopped near Haifa in Dalyat Al-Carmel, a Druze village situated right on top of Mt. Carmel. The lights of Haifa are night are beautiful--even the two nuclear reactors they have are lit with green and blue to fit in with the rest of the night skyline. In the village, we went to a host house and had authentic Druze food and learned about some of the religion. In the 11th century, the Druze were became an offshoot of Islam, and have been a closed religion since then. The only way to become a Druze is to be born to Druze parents, and one must marry Druze to stay Druze. This is also a "secret" religion, in which one decides his/her own path at age 15. If one chooses to become religious, they enter the secret part of the religion, whereas the others choose to stay secular. The food was amazing, and finding out about this religion was really neat, especially since the Druze fought beside the Israelis in each successive war--with the exception of the Golani Druze, who are still loyal to Syria.
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After our meal, it was back to Tzuba, where we got our new room assignments for the remainder of the trip. Yay for front room to myself! I like my space, alright? Although I do find it somewhat sad that my entire life fits into 16 drawers and one suitcase...oh well.
Now the semester is winding down. We only have 3 weeks left, and finals are coming up next week. Friday morning, after finishing our 5767 years of Jewish History curriculum, we went to the homes of our Hebrew teachers for breakfast and kibbitzing (talking...sort of). This was fun, espcially since we made a music video for an Israeli songwriter's song as a special project.
Friday evening, we went to a really cool shul. Out of the 28 of us still here, all but 9 of us went out for the weekend. We went into Jerusalem and arrived at a house, then went up two stories--and lo and behold, there was a room full of Jews preparing for T'filah. There, we sang niguns (Chasidic tunes) and had a grand ole time, then came back to the kibbutz for a relatively quiet weekend. After watching the movie "Walk on Water", another good Israeli film, I took some quiet time and have begun preparing to make the final slideshow and video for our Final Banquet.
Last night (Saturday), we went to Shira's (our J. History teacher) house for dinner and more kibbitzing. Oh, almost forgot:
I read the first two portions of this week's Torah portion at Saturday morning T'fillah! Go me!
In any case, it seems as if everything we're now doing is preparing for the end. I really can't wait to get home, and to see everyone again. At the same time, I love this place and don't want to leave...but all good things must come to an end, as it is said. I'm coming to realize fully how amazing of an experience this is, and I'm committed to making these last 24 days the best they can be--I've been throwing up for the past 12 hours, and had to miss the tiyul to the Israel Supreme Court this morning, but I'm going to get un-sick-ified and make this the best damn three weeks ever.
Now, I'm off to make some tea and go to classes; hopefully my stomach will hold up and I can stay well for today. I'm becoming a bit sad just thinking about the end, but it's time to live in the present and make the most of it.
Our Hebrew final is on Friday, and the rest of our exams are next week. Chanukah starts Friday night, and I'm really looking forward to celebrating Chanukah in Israel. After exams, we're headed to the Negev Desert for a week-long hike across/through it, ending up at Eilat, the southern-most point in Israel, right on the Red Sea. I'll update again as soon as something blogworthy comes up, and other than that, keep in mind that I still love getting e-mails and mail.
Shavua Tov (Have a good week),
--Aron
aronaltmark@aol.com
Aron Altmark
NFTY-EIE High School
Kibbutz Tzuba
90870 D.N. Harei Yehuda
ISRAEL
**Please be sure to mark all letters with, “AIRMAIL.”
posted by aron at 4:04 PM
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