FRIDAY, July 24, 2008
4:30 am – well before the first rays of sun as a warm breeze swept over the Dead Sea bearing its unique sulfur smell to us, we left our hotel and traveled north along the shore of the sea to Masada. Our group had divided into two: those who wanted to hike the famous “snake path” to the top of the mountain fortress, and those who wanted to take the later cable care which only began operating at 8 am.
About 12 of us began the hike, already joined by a number of other tours, making our way in the semi-dark up the narrow path. The snake path is well named for it twists and turns its way up along two kilometers rising to a heath of 350 meters. According to sign there are some 700 steps along the way – a nice morning workout!
The morning grew brighter as we ascended and we could see our way up the mountain. We could feel what it must have been like to defend the fortress, how useful it was to be able to limit access and see who was coming long before they ascended. In the end it did not save the last defenders of the site, but still – we felt watched.
We arrived at the top of Masada, a bit winded but proud of ourselves for our efforts. And as a reward, we watched a breathtaking sunrise over the Dead Sea. There is nothing quite like that profound and yet perfectly ordinary moment when the burst of light from the sun’s rounded surface breaks over the Jordanian mountains and causes the Dead Sea to shimmer and sparkle like it had been rudely awakened from a pleasant nap. To see the ancient walls of Masada in that new morning light raised our spirits and gave hope to the future.
It is a bit ironic to speak of hope at Masada, ultimately a site of defeat and martyrdom. Beginning with the northern terrace overlooking the majestic desert mountains, we toured the ruins of Harod’s ancient palace. Doron told us the story of Masada’s founding as a desert retreat for the master builder of Jerusalem, through its various incarnations. Eventually as we moved around the ruins we come to the story of Masada as the last holdout of the Zealots who rebelled against Rome. After the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE the Roman army came to this final holdout. There, as the Jewish historian Josephus tells the tale, the last 1000 or so rebel fighters and their families held off the Romans until the night before the wall was breached. That night they took their own lives rather be captured by the oppressors.
Although over the past half century or so the story has taken on mythic proportions, it is a problematic one for Jews. Zealots and rebels, martyrdom and suicide are not easy themes. The story was largely a forgotten one until it was revived in the early days of Zionist idealism as a symbol of strength of purpose and commitment even in the face of overwhelming adversity. After the Holocaust, the ideals of Jewish defense made Masada an even more potent symbol.
Today that symbolism is fading. And yet there is something majestic about Masada as a fortress in the desert, standing alone in a hostile environment and yet strong and confident and secure.
If going up the Snake Path was challenging, so was going down. The day was already warming up, although it was not yet 8 am. The path was crowded with other travelers, including a group of British teenagers, mostly from London, who where traveling on a Young Judea trip.
When my son, David, returned from his trip to Israel last year with his 8th grade class from PJA, he told me one of his favorite parts of the trip was coming down the Snake Path. At the end of the hot and difficult walk, he told me, there was a guy selling fresh squeezed orange juice. He said it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Armed with that tip, I stopped and bought myself a nice tall glass. Best 15 shekels I ever spent! Thanks, David.
As we arrived at the visitor’s center the rest of our group was arriving from the hotel. Doron, madman that he is, took this group up to Masada on the cable care and there he gave his second tour of the day. We walkers had a late breakfast (courtesy of the hotel) and a bit of a rest as we waited for the whole group to reunite.
It was a long morning, but very worthwhile.
Leaving Masada we continued our journey North along the Dead Sea shore until we came to Ein Gedi, the beautiful spring mentioned in the Bible. An oasis in the desert. After a brief hike we came to one of the three waterfalls that make up the spring. Quickly we were in the water and deeply refreshed from our morning hike as we let the waterfall crash down on our heads. The pool was full not only of the cool spring water, but also of a group of Moroccan Jewish teenagers who were also traveling in Israel. They told us there are about 2000 Jews left in Morocco so it was fascinating to see them there in Israel.
About an hour later we were back in Jerusalem checking into our hotel for some much-needed rest. I took a walk into Machane Yehuda, the Jewish Market, which was bustling in preperation for Shabbat. I met my cousins there: Tzipi, Zahava and Yankele, for a nice lunch.
As Shabbat approached we joined Doron at the congregation where he worships: Yakar in the Talpiyot section. Yakar is a fascinating community. It is a strictly Orthodox congregation with a separation between men and women. The services were lively and filled with singing, many tunes of Sholmo Carlbach, many original.
There are two parallel services at Yakar. The downstairs, while lively, is staid in comparison to the upstairs. It is a much younger crowd in the upper service, and although there is a separation between the men and woman, it is a curtain down the middle of the room with many breaks and not difficult for a tall person to peer over. There are not seats in the room and it is packed to overflowing. The singing was loud, raucous and joyful – and in truth the women were not only clearly heard, they were really leading the singing. Doron tells us that this upstairs minyan is known as the “pick-up” place for young, single Modern Orthodox Israelis looking to get married. There certainly was a lot of tension in the air, and a lot of joy. Although many of the group had difficulty following the service, we all left singing.
After a lovely walk back to the hotel through the hushed streets of Jerusalem, we joined for very nice Shabbat dinner. After our own singing and talking we noted that this was our final Shabbat together, and even had to say farewell to some of our group who are traveling back separately. Tom and Susie are on a different flight leaving earlier than we and the Fingers are continuing on in their journey.
4:30 am – well before the first rays of sun as a warm breeze swept over the Dead Sea bearing its unique sulfur smell to us, we left our hotel and traveled north along the shore of the sea to Masada. Our group had divided into two: those who wanted to hike the famous “snake path” to the top of the mountain fortress, and those who wanted to take the later cable care which only began operating at 8 am.
About 12 of us began the hike, already joined by a number of other tours, making our way in the semi-dark up the narrow path. The snake path is well named for it twists and turns its way up along two kilometers rising to a heath of 350 meters. According to sign there are some 700 steps along the way – a nice morning workout!
The morning grew brighter as we ascended and we could see our way up the mountain. We could feel what it must have been like to defend the fortress, how useful it was to be able to limit access and see who was coming long before they ascended. In the end it did not save the last defenders of the site, but still – we felt watched.
We arrived at the top of Masada, a bit winded but proud of ourselves for our efforts. And as a reward, we watched a breathtaking sunrise over the Dead Sea. There is nothing quite like that profound and yet perfectly ordinary moment when the burst of light from the sun’s rounded surface breaks over the Jordanian mountains and causes the Dead Sea to shimmer and sparkle like it had been rudely awakened from a pleasant nap. To see the ancient walls of Masada in that new morning light raised our spirits and gave hope to the future.It is a bit ironic to speak of hope at Masada, ultimately a site of defeat and martyrdom. Beginning with the northern terrace overlooking the majestic desert mountains, we toured the ruins of Harod’s ancient palace. Doron told us the story of Masada’s founding as a desert retreat for the master builder of Jerusalem, through its various incarnations. Eventually as we moved around the ruins we come to the story of Masada as the last holdout of the Zealots who rebelled against Rome. After the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 CE the Roman army came to this final holdout. There, as the Jewish historian Josephus tells the tale, the last 1000 or so rebel fighters and their families held off the Romans until the night before the wall was breached. That night they took their own lives rather be captured by the oppressors.
Although over the past half century or so the story has taken on mythic proportions, it is a problematic one for Jews. Zealots and rebels, martyrdom and suicide are not easy themes. The story was largely a forgotten one until it was revived in the early days of Zionist idealism as a symbol of strength of purpose and commitment even in the face of overwhelming adversity. After the Holocaust, the ideals of Jewish defense made Masada an even more potent symbol.Today that symbolism is fading. And yet there is something majestic about Masada as a fortress in the desert, standing alone in a hostile environment and yet strong and confident and secure.
If going up the Snake Path was challenging, so was going down. The day was already warming up, although it was not yet 8 am. The path was crowded with other travelers, including a group of British teenagers, mostly from London, who where traveling on a Young Judea trip.
When my son, David, returned from his trip to Israel last year with his 8th grade class from PJA, he told me one of his favorite parts of the trip was coming down the Snake Path. At the end of the hot and difficult walk, he told me, there was a guy selling fresh squeezed orange juice. He said it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Armed with that tip, I stopped and bought myself a nice tall glass. Best 15 shekels I ever spent! Thanks, David.As we arrived at the visitor’s center the rest of our group was arriving from the hotel. Doron, madman that he is, took this group up to Masada on the cable care and there he gave his second tour of the day. We walkers had a late breakfast (courtesy of the hotel) and a bit of a rest as we waited for the whole group to reunite.
It was a long morning, but very worthwhile.
Leaving Masada we continued our journey North along the Dead Sea shore until we came to Ein Gedi, the beautiful spring mentioned in the Bible. An oasis in the desert. After a brief hike we came to one of the three waterfalls that make up the spring. Quickly we were in the water and deeply refreshed from our morning hike as we let the waterfall crash down on our heads. The pool was full not only of the cool spring water, but also of a group of Moroccan Jewish teenagers who were also traveling in Israel. They told us there are about 2000 Jews left in Morocco so it was fascinating to see them there in Israel.
About an hour later we were back in Jerusalem checking into our hotel for some much-needed rest. I took a walk into Machane Yehuda, the Jewish Market, which was bustling in preperation for Shabbat. I met my cousins there: Tzipi, Zahava and Yankele, for a nice lunch.As Shabbat approached we joined Doron at the congregation where he worships: Yakar in the Talpiyot section. Yakar is a fascinating community. It is a strictly Orthodox congregation with a separation between men and women. The services were lively and filled with singing, many tunes of Sholmo Carlbach, many original.
There are two parallel services at Yakar. The downstairs, while lively, is staid in comparison to the upstairs. It is a much younger crowd in the upper service, and although there is a separation between the men and woman, it is a curtain down the middle of the room with many breaks and not difficult for a tall person to peer over. There are not seats in the room and it is packed to overflowing. The singing was loud, raucous and joyful – and in truth the women were not only clearly heard, they were really leading the singing. Doron tells us that this upstairs minyan is known as the “pick-up” place for young, single Modern Orthodox Israelis looking to get married. There certainly was a lot of tension in the air, and a lot of joy. Although many of the group had difficulty following the service, we all left singing.
After a lovely walk back to the hotel through the hushed streets of Jerusalem, we joined for very nice Shabbat dinner. After our own singing and talking we noted that this was our final Shabbat together, and even had to say farewell to some of our group who are traveling back separately. Tom and Susie are on a different flight leaving earlier than we and the Fingers are continuing on in their journey.
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