11 May 2012
We woke up early the next morning, grabbed our back packs and last minute tziud and set out for the North of Israel. Weeks of planning and delegating had gone into our tiyul and all of a sudden it was upon us. Slightly unprepared for the week ahead we set off. I grabbed a pillow from the Dojo on my way out, knowing I'd want to catch some shut eye on the bus, and not wanting to take my very own pillow with me, because I love my pillow and don't want to hurt it.
I was practically unconscious the entire bus ride, but I vaguely remember getting off somewhere hot and there being a load of German Tourists. I felt a little like Black people must have felt when all the Europeans were colonising Africa. I was sat on a rock, over looking my friends all eagerly buying snacks for the bus ride enjoying the sunshine and the cool breeze that was gently caressing the loose bits of hair that had escaped my pigtails, blowing them around my face. It was then that I came upon this odd feeling of being colonised, and as as soon as I voiced it, Dan Rattan gave me an odd look, so I kept my thoughts to myself for the rest of the break.
Back on the bus, the scenery of green luscious plane lands went by, slightly blurred with speed.
We got off and made our way gingerly towards a beautiful view of Tzvat over a mountain, where Naomi left a puddle of pee below us.
There was darkness. Too much darkness. It was pressing in on my ears and it was too silent for my liking. My feet fumbled for a foot hold in the dark, my hands desperately trying to find the wall in the emptiness that had now come to be eerie as we walked on. I knew there were people in front of me, and there were probably people behind me, but as my hand reached out in front of me there was no one to be felt. The darkness started to fade away and reality over took my imagination as I saw the rest of the group sitting in a circle. They were silent as we all waited for Dana to speak and when she did, an echo like you've never heard before erupted around us.
Obsessive.
Scared.
Indecisive.
Alone.
The words spoken tentatively by everyone in the circle resounded around us, they penetrated your soul and held you captive for those few fleeting seconds when the words were in the air.
Thirteen voices erupted into song. One voice. One echo. The feeling of utter amazement as to this glorious, underground wonder was almost too much to bare.
We walked through the streets of Tzvat, the blue and white buildings towering above us. We were enticed by the people and the architecture of it all. Of the two synagogues we entered the second was my favourite. I've been there before, and I desperately tried to find the blog post I wrote about it, but I couldn't. We spoke about the kabalist characteristics of it. The way it has different amounts of things for different reasons, and a chair, that if you sit in it, gives you healthy babies.
I love kababla. I think its so interesting, it would have been nice to be able to walk around the old city and actually feel it though...
I think I had a spiritual revelation that night. I was looking out the window during the service, and every time I stood up and faced that direction, the sky outside had changed. In that moment I thought that there must be some kind of force that is controlling it all, and even maybe its a "God" of some sort. It was a rather interesting experience.
We made tea and played guitar in the middle of the basket ball court.
I did not sleep well that night.
