it's enough to know where we are--knowing what time we are is beyond me.
Today's itinerary:
We tour Jaffa and Tel Aviv (known today as Tel Aviv-Yaffo).
Jaffa
Carmel Market
Museum of the Diaspora
Where Rabin was assassinated
Jaffa was very rundown in the early 60s (with crime and prostitution) and the city decided to redevelop it as an Artists' Quarter. Evidently most if not all the buildings are reconstructions and are kept looking as if they're hundreds or thousands of years old.
He then drove us through the city, which is very dense--it's reached its borders with other towns. The only way to go is up, which is why so many skyscrapers are being built.
Tel Aviv from Jaffa: me, Mitch, Darin, Carole, Scott, and Steve
The other thing I noticed is that while it's weird to be in a country where I can't make out any of the languages (something that doesn't happen to me in Europe), I'm not at too much of a disadvantage because all of the signs come in two languages: Hebrew and English. I think the English is because so many of the tourists and big supporters of Israel are American and Canadian Jews; Darin says it's because a)English is the international language and b)the British were the last rulers in Palestine/Israel.
Micky dropped us off at the Carmel Market for a while. It's a giant outdoor marketplace found in so many countries--primarily produce and meat, but there were also vendors and clothes and knickknacks. A farmer's market meets Orchard Street. The produce looked great: nice red strawberries, radishes as big as my fist. But we'd just eaten so none of us was hungry. Languages shouted all over the place: Hebrew, Arabic, Russian, Polish.
People were packed in like sardines. If you're claustrophobic, this kind of marketplace is not for you. People walk right in front of you, push their way by. Elbows are very important. And the vendors are very pushy: yelling out, trying to get you to come there. One guy wanted me to buy a fresh grapefruit drink and I kept saying, "No, thank you" until Steve told me "No, thank you," is "Lo, toda." I practiced that several times.
(Scott tried to teach me "Please" and "Quiet, please," which he says is the most popular phrase at Hebrew school. I can't remember either now.)
We went to the Museum of the Diaspora, which tells the same basic story over and over: the Jews moved somewhere, often at the country's invitation, they prospered, they were massacred and/or kicked out. Darin says all Jewish holidays can be summed up as: they tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat.
On the drive back, we drove by the spot where Rabin was assassinated (which got Carole talking about where she was when Kennedy was assassinated, which got Micky talking about where he was when Kennedy was assassinated, which left Darin, me, Mitch, and Scott--the "kids"--out of the conversation completely).
Once back at the hotel, I was going to go buy some postcards, but I decided to lay down for "a little while." Or five hours. Moral: always do errands first.
The "kids" are responsible for picking restaurants, so after consulting the guidebooks, we picked Regata at the Dan Tel Aviv hotel. It was okay--I've noticed meals are less user-friendly than at home: the fish last night came as a whole fish, with bones, and the lamb ribs I had tonight were very difficult to attack.
And now we're back at the hotel, watching BBC World. Haven't seen anything earth-shaking on it so far, thank goodness: the stock market is over 9000 and there's a biography of Alan Greenspan. Not a word about Impeachment. Yay!
|
|
|
|
Copyright 1998 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com