Our first day in the Negev began in the city of Arad at 4:30 a.m.
After a quick breakfast of Israeli instant coffee and cakes, forty-nine bleary-eyed travelers rounded some dangerous curves to reach the base of Masada, the ancient Roman fortress ruins built atop a towering sand dune in the Negev (Judaean Desert) overlooking the Dead Sea. By 6:30 a.m., cameras in hand, we were watching the sun rise over the desert and the sea. Daylight illuminated the spectacular beauty of the sand dunes, extending as far as the eye could see, starkly contrasting the sparkling blue sea below (including the lowest point on earth).
The bright sun over our heads, we explored the ruins, peeking into ancient crevices and testing the spectacular echo effect. Seated inside King Herod’s ancient synagogue, Maxi told us of the destruction of the last ancient kingdom of Israel and the valiant last stand of the Jews living there. Hearing about Masada’s monumental historical and modern-day significance in the company of six Israelis, all who have served or are serving in the IDF, was a powerful and inspiring experience. We then hiked down the steep, winding path that the ancients used and appropriately named the Snake Path.
After a wonderfully salty and buoyant swim in “Yam Hamalach” (Sea of Salt or Dead Sea), we continued on to Chan Hashayarot, at a Bedouin campsite in the Negev. We were greeted warmly and musically with coffee in small porcelain cups and a few songs on the “sum-sumaya,” a six-stringed wooden Bedouin instrument reminiscent of the Indian sitar.
After a short presentation on the Bedouin tribe’s past and present (currently 34 different tribes in Israel), we were ushered into the dining tent.
The large tent was warm and cozy (electric heaters visible), and smelled of delicious spices. We sat down on thin, colorful cots on the ground, six people around a small metal stand. Shortly thereafter, the feast began.
The large metal trays came out in quick succession. Our eyes and noses feasted greedily upon familiar and welcome colors and smells. The large center platter brimmed with basmati rice and chicken, dyed yellow by spices, and speckled with roasted tomatoes, peppers, carrots, and onions. This plate was encircled by seven or eight bowls holding cucumber and tomato salad, cucumbers with dill, tahina, hummus, hot peppers, and salty flat bread called laffa.
We said “b’tai avon” and plunged into the bread basket, building delicious Bedouin-style tortillas bulging with cucumbers and hummus and difficult (for some of us) to contain in their tasty wrappings. The moment one bowl emptied, someone appeared to refill it.
We happily reached over, under, and around each other to spoon rice, chicken, salad, and tahina onto our bread — or better yet, directly into our mouths.
To end the meal (and give our taste buds the sweetness they desired), we had sweet hot tea and flaky, buttery cookies.
As we lounged in the warm tent, digesting and swapping stories and vocabulary with our Israeli friend, I smiled as I often do after a day of good activity, good food, and good company.
The Israelis on our trip have welcomed us with open (albeit hummus-covered) arms and treated us like family for the past eight days. As we sang by the campfire and retreated to our sleeping tent, I thought again how very fortunate we are to have their company.
As the last “b’tai avon” quickly approaches, I look forward to two more days of Israel’s historic sights and sounds, delicious cucumbers and hummus, and good company.