and then the camel said to the sheep...
Today's itinerary:
Facial
Sodom
Arad
Darin and I were both woken up at 2:30am by some very loud disco music echoing through the central hall (a mainstay of Hyatt architecture). He called the front desk and the clerk said the music would stop at 4. Darin says he was awake until 4, but I know better, because I was awake until 4 and he snored the whole time. I kept thinking, I should get dressed and go down and see what's going on, but I never did. Reawoke up at 8:15am, went down to brunch. I am finding these brunches increasingly unpalatable, because in Tel Aviv they are more American and here it's all nuts and dates and salads. The faux-American cereals are seriously oversugared--I can't eat them. I should just eat hummus for all 3 meals.
Darin and I went for a walk by the beach--actually, by the hotels that line that beach, until there was a break that actually allowed us to get to the water. It's not a very good beach--coarse sand, and there are construction vehicles everywhere (more hotels going up). There were some people floating in the water. I went down to the waterside and felt it: a pretty good temperature, slightly cool.
We made a joke: we've finally found people who won't float in the Dead Sea! But that's because we won't go in.
Then I had a facial at the spa, with Shula, who I think is Russian. She told me I jumped around too much. She plucked my eyebrows and squeezed every inch of my face--I was jumping all right. She used a pick to prick the skin where her fingernails could not break it. I think my mother (who loves doing stuff like this) would have made an excellent facial giver.
After that I went to one of the beauty stores that sells the Dead Sea cosmetic products and brought some for my sister (and some for me--lotions, because my skin is so dry here). The price as marked is meaningless: buy two of these lines and it's cheaper than the price marked for 1. ("I give these to you for 99 sheqals." "Um, okay.")
I got back to the hotel and thought, Mom will kill me if I don't give her something like this. But I couldn't go right back: we were going out for an afternoon drive with Micky. We drove along the Dead Sea, past the chemical plants, through the hills up to Arad.
On the way we stopped at Mount Sodom, which is actually a very big hill made of salt, covered by a fine veneer of dust, which makes it look like dirt. I took a rock of the salt home--it looks just like quartz crystal. Evidently all the salt in Israel comes from here--they scrape off a boulder or two and haul it away. There's even a vaguely humanoid shaped outcropping (or "chimney") called "Lot's wife."
This isn't the Sodom, by the way. According to Micky, they haven't the slightest where Sodom and fellow party city Gomorrah actually were. They just named the whole region at the south end of the Dead Sea "Sodom" to give it some kind of Biblical tie-in. Because it's kind of a blasted wasteland.
At a scenic point near sea level (meaning, several hundred meters above the valley floor) we stopped for a fairly impressive view of this desolate valley floor. It resembled the moon. Across the Dead Sea is Jordan, which is slightly higher up and at the base of some hills, so it gets rainfall and is nice and green.
The Dead Sea Valley--not unlike the moon.
DIANE
Can you imagine, you get all
the way here from Egypt and
you pick this this side?
MICKY
Oh, it's worse than that. They
came from that side.
Well, that was that: Micky started telling us Moses jokes:
- "You know, the story was that Moses was not allowed to enter the Promised Land. What really happened was he took one look across the water and dropped dead of a heart attack."
- "Moses stuttered. He was not an eloquent man. God asked him where he wanted to settle and Moses said, 'Ca-ca-ca-ca,' and God understood he meant Canaan. But Moses was trying to say 'Canada.'"
From the scenic spot we continued up to the town of Arad, which was founded 35 years ago. It's the manufacturing center of Israel--all of the hotel towels say, "Arad." The town has a pretty impressive view of the Dead Sea.
"There will be food, right? Soon?"
Micky took us to a spot on the edge of town that has some public art and great views. It was cold though--an overcast day with winds. It almost seemed like the perfect off day, despite the fact that we were still out touring with Micky.
Darin stands near some public art.
The town was very quiet though--one might say "dead," except lots of families were out strolling, enjoying a nice Shabbat afternoon together. However, we were all hungry, so Micky had to do some reconnaissance to find something open, which he did: a little restaurant run by a Bedouin man Micky has known for some 25 years. (He didn't know the man was here or that the man had a restaurant, but he's known this guy for 25 years. Micky knows everybody.)
Darin and Carole had a traditional Shabbat stew called cholent that had beans and meat and eggs: you make it Friday and then leave it on a hot plate all Saturday so you don't have to cook.
I asked what were some other things you can't do on the Sabbath: you can wash and get dressed, but you can't comb your hair (if you are likely to pull so much as one hair). You also can't operate machinery or appliances, which is why all the hotels have "Shabbat elevators," which run independently of buttons on the Sabbath.
Saturday is pretty much everyone's weekend here--Israel has had a 6-day workweek, although it's moving to 5 days, with Friday being the 2nd day. Sunday's the start of the week, not Monday, which is why when we got back to the hotel everyone was checking out. Micky said only about 20% of Israelis are practicing Jews, but because it's a Jewish state all public functions are observant: all hotels are kosher, for example.
I've been reading While Christ And His Saints Slept, also by Sharon Kay Penman and it's very disappointing, coming right after The Sunne In Splendour, which was so great. For one thing, she keeps introducing characters and situations that are hardly used--for example, she goes into some detail about Sybil the whore and her baby and the scheme to dress Sybil as a nun to trap a nobleman... then something happens and Sybil and the scheme are no more after a few pages.
And another thing: she keeps describing all these very exciting situations in dialogue. In exposition. It's driving me crazy.
The third thing: the book's about the war between Stephen and Maude for the throne of England. Stephen's a wuss and Maude can't even control her own husband. There's no one to follow, no one to root for. Argh.
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Copyright 1998 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com