Monday, November 23, 2009

Eilat

Another bus. Egypt. I'm on my way to Dahab. There is something about buses that inspires me to write. Maybe they punctuate the bits of the trip into describable segments. I had a very weird experience today. I walked across a border. Not just a town or state or even country. In a sense I just crossed the border into Africa and to do it I got up early in the morning and just walked.

I've been trying recently to not forget to be amazed by things. I did a dive with an instructor who told me "You're good but you use your arms too much. They aren't helping you swim you know." When diving I don't use my arms to help with propulsion. I use them to help with memory. If I don't put them out to the sides and pretend like I'm flying or push the water in front of me to quickly move myself up then I sometimes forget. I forget how fucking amazing it is that I'm just hanging out in the water for an hour and breathing like a fish. I need to look like an idiot on occasion to remember that. What do you do?

"There's nothing to do in Eilat." Anna tells me when I arrive. I went diving and kite surfing on one day. Diving and hiking on the next. Walked to Egypt. Saying that Eilat is a place people go to vacation in Israel is misleading. Eilat is a place where people in Israel go to vacation. It becomes apparent quickly. English is almost non-existent. There is some Russian but almost everything is in Hebrew. You don't even hear anything else spoken in the streets. Russian being the exception. This makes nightlife a little difficult.... for me.

From the bus I'm surprised how rocky this place is. It's no like mountain rocks though. It's like someone ground up mountains into little rocks and then made piles of them all over the place.

"I've been to Dahab four times but I've never been to Egypt" says a Russian man on the bus with me. I'll see in a few hours.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

izzy

'm sitting on the sand. The waves quietly caress the edge of the beach 10m in front of me. An old guy has just caught a fish the size of my hand. My laptop informs me that if I were sitting a little closer to the restaurant 50m away that this beach would have free wifi. The sand here is that extra fine type that gets into everything forever. The weather is just about perfect for beach sitting and the water is not too cold to swim in. A guy just walked by wearing a sweatshirt but he's an anomaly. Tel Aviv looms behind me. I can see 6 people from where I sit. So far Israel and I are getting along just fine.

Getting here though was not as uneventful as I'd hoped. My host in Rome gave me a ride to the airport and I was there nice and early. No more missing flights for this guy. At checkin I learned that to enter Israel without a special visa or an Israeli passport one needs to have booked a return ticket. A return ticket? This is a foreign concept to me at the moment. Why would I return to where I came from when I can go somewhere new instead. Furthermore I am waiting on a number of things know where I'm even going after this. Thinking fast I find an internet connection and manage to have my credit card declined on the cheapest flight out of Israel (it knows when it's an emergency and does not work at those times). The flight was going to Belgium. Low on hope I made my way to the ticket office of the company I was flying with and told them "I need to change my flight or find the cheapest flight out of Israel some time in early December. Don't care where." The lady at the ticket counter, being not in the mood to do so much work asked me "Why don't you just make a reservation?" "What does this involve?" I asked having no idea what she was talking about. "Well" she explained "you don't pay anythin-" "Sign me up." I answered before she finished. In the end having given her only my passport I walked away with a piece of paper (that I could have printed myself) suggesting that I had possibly thought about leaving Israel on Dec 23rd. It was good enough! So I, with an army of people who's average age must have been about 75 'speedily' boarded the plane and were off ahead of schedule.

The interrogation begins the moment you're off the plane. As you leave your gate a team of people are there to ask you questions. The first time is like a practice for passport control. The questions are the same so you can get used to giving the answers. "why are you here? where are you staying? for how long?" I confidently said that I'm flying out on Dec 23rd and said that I'm staying with friends who's last names they did not even ask for. Then you walk by a fountain that reminds me of the king from the Mario Brothers movie (I'm certain nobody is getting that joke). And before you're free you get the 2nd round of questioning from passport control. This round also involves "Have you ever been to Israel before"? And when you politely ask them not to stamp your passport they give you the eye and ask again "are you SURE you've never been to Israel before?" It's at this point that you realize that you could have bullshitted the entire process.

One of the most uncommon things that you see in the streets are not just the large quantity of people in their army uniform but the fact that some of them are not just carrying but wielding their pistols as they walk around. "They are ready to shoot you" said Pavlik the guy I'm staying with "well not you but you know..."

The people are generally attractive especially coming from Italy where the average girl you see on the streets of Florence finds themselves somewhere between 'eh' and 'ugh'. Rome was better. The average around here goes somewhere between 'huhm' and 'M!mn'. 'Huhm' being that uncommon kind of look that you're not sure what to think of immediately but grows on you after a few minutes, or doesn't. Strangely enough in Italy the tourists were the most attractive while here the tourists are mostly elderly.

There are three official languages written on the street signs, Hebrew, Arabic, and English and the non official language of Russian which is found in stores and spoken widely. For the most of the locals' places though, there is only Hebrew. It makes things difficult. Whereas European languages that I don't understand I can at least read and try to sound it out and guess. Hebrew may as well be Chinese as far as my chance for understanding it goes.

The people I'm staying with so far are awesome and I think we'll have a few more nights of good times together. It's time for me to find where the rest of this beach is.