A taste of life

5/11/19

Sometimes life is like Jaffa.  Stunning views of the coast as far as the eye can see. The sound of waves crashing into rocks. Charming alley ways with memorable names like Mazal Tov. Artists spilling out of every storefront. 4,000 years of human beings coexisting and thriving amidst their diversity. A trio of musicians playing Latin music while you stand on a map of the world. But also, the memory of orchards, the forgotten scent of orange blossoms. The old made new, the new made hipster.

And sometimes life is like Tel Aviv. A city built on sand dunes. 110 years old and constantly reinventing itself. Statues of famous men staring undignified at ridiculous advertisements. Strange signs telling you to “Look Deeper” and offering you “Peace to the World.” Vaguely European, but in an Israeli sort of way. Strangers not surprised to be approached by a random group of kids from the States and peppered with innocent questions about what life is like in Tel Aviv. Happy to take a minute to answer, especially on Shabbat.

And sometimes life is like Rabin Square. Given a new name because of unspeakable tragedy. Ideas born; ideas destroyed. Lives as well. But somehow, people continue to come together: in protest, in celebration, to buy books, to acquire the necessary items for the upcoming holiday, to remember the Holocaust, to feed the birds, and to dance in the fountain every time there’s a national celebration.

And then there’s the Mediterranean. Three hours of beach time is a lot. The first hour, everyone’s swimming, splashing about, taking selfies, wondering by what norms people select their swimwear. The second hour, the compulsive need to “do something” bubbles up. Soccer balls purchased, friends buried up to their necks in sand, birthdays celebrated. The third hour, contentment sets in, and suddenly the sand, the sea, and the sun become more than enough. Especially when someone hands you a popsicle.

All this, plus visits from many wonderful friends and family members, a spiritually uplifting and redemptively participatory Havdallah overlooking the sea, and an award winning feast at Dr. Shakshuka, our first truly glorious meal of the trip (served to us primarly by Arab-Israelis who were in the final hours of their Ramandan fast).

Your kids now know Tel Aviv. And they know Jaffa. And they love them both. For what they are, what they were, and what they might still yet be.

Shavua Tov (may we have a great week).