Memorable Guests

I have been saving this last post until the very end so each guest has a fair and equal shot. Working at an Inn that has been home to thousands of guests, I have had the opportunity of meeting a fair amount of (to put it nicely) interesting people. However, one guest stands out among the rest. This award goes to....(drum roll) guest X from Spain!

Let me give you a brief overview of this man.

He arrived with a bang. The entrance to the Fauzi is a small gate carved into the old stone walls. You have to stoop to enter, otherwise you hit your head on the overhanging stone. Naturally, he forgot to do that. As he made his way upstairs into the main salon area, he let out this huge sigh/moan/scream/exclamation and just sort of flopped over the main desk. He was quite sweaty and rugged - in a very unappealing way. His accent was so thick I could barely understand him. It took quite a few attempts for me to ask him to pay and present his passport to me.

However, unlike (normal) people who keep their money and passports in their bags or pockets, he kept his deep within his pants. So in order to access them, he literally unzipped his pants and sort of stripped right in front of me and my religious Muslim co-worker. He were a bit shocked and immediately averted our eyes. He was not at all abashed as he rummaged around within his pants for his papers. He dropped them onto the desk (keep in mind, his pants are still down) and I was incredibly hesitant to pick them up (understandably so). He just kept on chattering away.

The fun did not end there. After checking the guest in, we give them a map of an area and a little speech as to where they are what they can do in the city. It is a very informative and in-depth overview. He was so thrilled that he closed his eyes, put his hand to his heart and said, "I am so very grateful for this information. You have been such a wonderful help I just don't know what  I could do without you." He stayed for two days and every time he saw me, he would come up and thank me again, energetically.

To be fair, there were many other guests that came close - a major German creeper and a massive family from America (where all five kids matched and had names that began with 'A').

Final Thoughts and Beit Alfa

Last night, a guest and I sat talking late into the evening on the porch overlooking the entire city. She was one of the most fascinating people I have met - a 67 year old woman from South Africa living in Oman. Incredibly tall and regal looking, Elizabeth had a sort of charm you could not ignore. We spent a good couple of hours talking about interfaith, intermarriage and what it means to be true to a religion. She got me thinking and reflecting on my stay here in Nazareth.

My trip was not an easy one to say the least. It was full of learning curves and mistake after mistake. From walking all over Nazareth to find a certain shop to taking the wrong bus line (and ending up in the desert) I have learned a tremendous amount. I learned when and when not to speak in Hebrew, how to be assertive in arguments with Israelis, how to navigate the bus lines, how to budget for two months in a foreign country, how to communicate solely in Hebrew and how to know when a situation is right or wrong. However, one of the main things that has struck me is just how fortunate I am - to have a supportive family, job opportunities and the drive to see the world. I know this sounds cheesy, but it has come quite apparent to me.

The other day, I went and visited an Ethiopian absorption center called Beit Alfa right right outside of Afula. I had spoken with the manager a few times and he strongly encouraged me to stop by. So I managed to find the center, a mini-village hidden in the valley (about 15 km from the border with Jordan). As I entered the center, hundreds of eyes followed my every step - who is she? what is she doing here? I found the office and was greeted by half a dozen smiling workers - all former members of the same absorption center. They were thrilled that I came and instantly started to show me around. They showed me the classrooms and introduced me to other volunteers. Upon learning that I had a few hours, they asked if I was interested in playing with the kids. I enthusiastically responded yes and went outside to meet them.

What struck me first was just how polite and appreciate these children were. Tons of eyes stared up at me and the kids gathered around me in curiosity. There was silence and then all at once they all ask me (in Hebrew, they don't know any English) "Do you speak English??" They were so eager to practice what little English they knew! So for each child, I asked, "How are you?" "What's your name?" I would receive a gleeful respond and everyone would laugh hysterically.

The other highlight was the instant I sat down, a good dozen kids swarmed around me and started braiding my hair. This was not only an activity for the girls but also for the boys. "Does this hurt you? Tell us when it hurts and we will stop!" they shouted. After only ten minutes, my head was completely covered in tiny braids that they had done. They were the nicest group of children I have ever been with. Respectful of each other, they treated one another with the utmost of respect. Older brothers were always checking to see if their younger sisters were safe and sound while friends held hands with one another. I don't know who was more excited - me or them.

I definitely hope to return to the center in the years to come to do more work. The community was unlike anything I have ever experienced. I hope to give them life opportunities that I have had the pleasure to enjoy - to travel the world, learn different languages and interact with new and different people.

My time here ends in just ten days, that I know will whiz by. I leave the Fauzi tomorrow morning to spend time with friends and family (Micayla!) in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. It's quite strange how fast time flew by. I began saying my goodbyes yesterday which hurt more than I thought. The final ones will come today. Fortunately, I am having lunch with a fellow employee today and will see other friends that I have made in the evening. I also anticipate another caffeinated afternoon as I say goodbye to the Arab locals that I have met and gotten to know: the imam, the coffee seller, the workers at the local spice shop etc (you cannot just say 'goodbye,' you have to sit down with coffee and say goodbye)

So...that was Nazareth. I am definitely planning to return and would encourage everyone to stop by at the Fauzi!

Ice Space in Eilat

A week ago, a friend and I went down to Eilat for my birthday and spent the two days completely submerged in water  - either in the beautiful pools by the hotel or in the Yam Ha'suf. However, we emerged just long enough to visit Ice Space - an hour long experience for Israelis to see what life is like in 32 degree weather. Coming from Wisconsin and studying in Minnesota, I thought the concept was absurd. However, I obliged and put on a down coat, snowpants, gloves, boots and a hat and 'braced myself' for what was to come. I spent the first portion (the info session and the 'informative' video) trying to suppress my laughter. Here I was, surrounded by a group of Israelis who were anxiously pulling their hats down farther and trying to burrow their necks further in their coats.

We were warned: NOT to touch the ice, for it could give you severe burns, how to safely exit the room in case of extreme cold and what animal life we might find in the ice space. With this in mind, we walked in. At this point, I completely lost it and just started laughing uncontrollably and snorting at the same time. My fellow group members stood in awe, staring at the ice as if it was some precious stone. They would touch the ice, look at each other and just freak out. Keep in mind that it was about 107 degrees outside, so I was previously sweating profususly. I had kept my jacket unbuttoned to cool off as well as pocketing my gloves. I ran my bare hands over the ice, but before I could even begin to enjoy the coldness a million people start yelling at me, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING! You can get burned!" Trying to be polite, I tried telling them that I will be fine, that in fact I live in an environment like this for a good half the year. Of course, they didn't believe me.

We only lasted thirty minutes.

Yes or No to Shlomo Artzi?

Whenever I work the late night shift, I blast my favorite artist, Shlomo Artzi - a very popular Israeli artist. I am always wary of playing it around my Arab coworkers for fear they would say, "What is this Jewish music??!" So this afternoon, I am working (and naturally playing Shlomo Artzi) when one of my Arab friends comes in. I instantly fling myself towards the volume to turn down the music when he cries out, "What are you doing! That's Shlomo Artzi, leave it on!"

So now the two of us are hunched over the same computer, compiling a lengthy Shlomo Artzi playlist.

Getting lost in the Golan

The other day, a fellow volunteer and I decided to go on a lengthy hike in the southern region of the Golan. We wanted to challenge ourselves and aim for a 10 mile hike around the region and then hike back to Nazareth. But things definitely did not go as planned. We accidentally began hiking in the wrong direction and headed further north, towards the village of Ilaniya. We soon realized our mistake and turned around, hiking back up the same mountain/hill that we had just left. We finally got on track again and managed to crisscross our way through valleys and hills, taking in the incredible beauty of the area. It was so quiet and serene - we were the only two people within a good couple miles radius.

To get an idea of where we hiked, we started off in the small village of Turan and headed southwest back towards Nazareth, taking the Blue, Green and Israeli trails that run parallel to the Jesus Trail. From Turan (after the Ilaniya incident) we hiked around Har Devora and skirted around the village of Devoria. However, we made our second (big) mistake of taking the Red trail. Apparently, this trail takes you through isolated/remote Arab villages (Reina and Iksal). Fortunately, my fellow hiker was a guy because I was wearing shorts that day because of the heat. I would HIGHLY not recommend trapeezing through two conservative Arab villages in shorts and a tank top. Which is precisely what I did. I felt horrible and so American, but I didn't have a towel to cover myself up. So, as inconspicuously as we could, we sped through the villages thinking the Red trail would spit us back out onto the main road. Turns out the Red trail doesn't do that. It was getting later and we were both getting a bit nervous (we were running very low on water, the sun was incredibly intense, and we didn't know where we were) when a car pulls up asking us if we need help. Fortunately, the young lady in the car offered to drop us off on the outskirts of Nazareth and make sure we got back safely.

What a day. Total mileage was 24 kilometers.

Other highlights include: encountering a stray camel that got last on the trails (he looked awfully confused) and coming across an enormous carcass of some wild ram. It must have been a fairly recent death, for the skeleton was fairly intact.

Health Center versus Health Center

A few days ago I had had enough. I hadn't run or exercised in X amount of time (I won't give the exact amount for fear of incarceration). So I researched places to run, either outside or in a gym. Unfortunately, Nazareth doesn't offer any of the above, but Nazareth Illit - the surrounding Jewish community - might. During my searches, I came across the Ben Gurion Health Center, and was ecstatic! I decided to walk there, because it did not seem too far away and if I left early enough, it would be cool.

However, the washing machine decided to get jammed and if I didn't take my clothes out right away, they would begin to mold due to the intense summer heat. So I waited two hours. At that point, it's 10:45am, probably one of the worst times to hike uphill, east. But I did so anyways. It took me thirty minutes to reach the top and at that point I am dripping with sweat, my face is red and blotchy from the heat and I am out of breath. (To get a better idea, Google search Nazareth and Nazareth Illit. I am not talking about a small 'bump-in-the-road' hill, but a mini mountain) I finally manage to find the Health Center, but realized that at the point I am completely drained. I walk in to the center and am confronted with rows of elderly Russians sitting in plastic chairs, wheezing, bleeding, moaning and complaining to their spouses and neighbors. Baffled, I make my way to the front desk and ask, "Excuse me, but where's the gym here?" The receptionist looks at me - this drenched American asking where the gym was - and doesn't get it. In Hebrew, I ask again. She then jumps to the conclusion that something is wrong with my heart and begins to worry. I hurriedly try to comfort her and tell her, "No, no my heart is fine but where is the GYM?" She doesn't get it. 

Turns out the Ben Gurion Health Center is literally a health center, not a gym. Lesson learned.

New opportunities

You never know what sort of new opportunities you will land when you wake up in the morning. I was about to leave for work when my housemate comes up to me and says that El Babour (the local spice shop) is looking for a volunteer from the Fauzi Azar that can speak English, Hebrew and Arabic. Apparently they need help with the tourists (El Babour is incredible famous for its olive oil and spices) who only speak English. So I head down to the shop and meet with the managers who are thrilled! After countless cups of coffee and ramblings in Hebrew and Arabic, I finally leave with a new volunteer opportunity! Did not expect that one to happen.

However, the best part of the day has been my interview with the local Imam, Abu Anis Muhammad. What's great about Netzrat is that everyone knows each other, and once they know you, they know you forever. No longer can I walk around without being greeted loudly or ushered in for a cup of coffee. (At first, I was that 'American redheaded volunteer' but now I am 'the gingit elana, sh'medaberet ivrit' - the redheaded Elana who speaks Hebrew.) Anyways, Abu Anis and I talked for well over an hour (drinking even more coffee) about what peace means to us. As I mentioned earlier, Abu Anis is unique for he openly takes a very peaceful approach to the conflict. He told me that just recently, his good friend from Haifa (a rabbi) was recently in a car crash and without thinking twice, (Abu Anis) jumped in his car to visit him. He could not begin to stress more that this conflict can only be solved if we see each other eye to eye. But this must be willingly done, as brothers and sisters. As I left, he kissed me on both cheeks and invited me and the other volunteers to his house for even more coffee. I have never been this caffeinated in my life.

Firsts

Yesterday, a bunch of us woke up extra early to go hiking in the Golan Heights - the mountainous region of northern Israel. However, we made a slight detour along the way to attend Sunday mass services - a major first for me. Needless to say, it was quite an experience. For one, the entire service was conducted in German, which proved to be a major hindrance. I was also the only one not to take communion or rise in time to the prayers...but, it was a first! I was such a good Christian.

Anyways, because I was hiking with a bunch of fellow volunteers and co-workers from the Inn, all of them happened to be Christian (because Nazareth is mostly Christian and home to multiple churches and Christian sites, many of the volunteers tend to be Christian) and came to Israel with a different purpose than myself. While hiking, one of my co-workers kept on telling me, "Jesus hiked here" and "Jesus did this here" and I realized this was the first time I have ever seen Israel from a non-Jewish perspective. I have hiked in the Golan multiple times, but always to see Israeli forts used in the 1967 and Yom Kippur War and to visit ancient Jewish synagogues. However, this time, I saw it with a new lens.

At one point, we ended up passing a Jewish youth group hiking along the same path as us. As we passed, I heard them singing traditional Israeli folk songs and viewing the Golan as a place their fathers and grandfathers 'conquered.' I recall feeling like such an outsider, viewing these young kids externally instead of internally. What struck me as even more bizarre was that none of my fellow hikers batted an eye upon hearing the songs. They were as foreign to them as anything else they were experiencing. Because of this, the youth looked at us with a look that clearly said, "Christians, Americans." It wasn't a look of hatred, but more one of curiosity. I wanted to shout out, "I know those songs!" but I refrained.

One other first: talking to the local electrician on the phone solely in Hebrew to fix a malfunctioning alarm system. Oy, so stressful.

Transformations

When I first stepped off the bus into Nazareth, I was instantly gripped with this feeling of fear of being a Jew in an Arab city. I distinctly remember holding my bag closer to me and looking downward, speedwalking to the Inn. Having never been in such an environment before, I was unsure of who to trust and how to act. Because of the predominant Muslim population, I was soon drenched in sweat because I chose to wear jeans and a sweater despite the heat. Yet a mere week later, I have noticed drastic changes. I accept  the fact that I stick out like a sore thumb (an Israeli friend of mine calls me a glowstick because of my hair in the sun in contrast to the darker hair of the rest of the population) and smile at the regulars that I see every day.

What struck me deepest was an incident that occurred during my late night shift last night. A 30 year old woman and her mother came in later in the night asking if we had any rooms available. Saying yes, my co-worker was about to pick up the women's bags to take them to their room when both instantly tensed up and looked to me. It was clearly evident they were freaked that my co-worker (an Arab) was about to steal their bags. Feeling flustered, I instantly stammered that they should have no worries, the Fauzi Azar is an incredibly safe Inn. A second later, they snatched their bags away and guardedly peeked into the rooms. Constantly whispering to themselves and shooting glances at my co-worker, they skeptically interrogated me about the safety of the Inn. "Have their been any safety issues, any trust issues, can we knock off an extra 100 NIS from our room cost..." they asked. My first reaction was to be shocked at their impoliteness (my co-worker was born and raised here) but then I realized that this could have been me some time ago. It was last night that it finally dawned on me how comfortable I have grown here. 

However, no matter how many times I told them they had nothing to fear, they left the Inn to find another place. (Ironically, they felt safer ambling the empty alleys at 10:30pm than staying at an award winning Inn that was locked and secure...) My co-worker was beyond hurt and left early with tears in his eyes. 

So moral of the story...

Only in Nazareth...

Does a store owner see you with a Fauzi Azar staff shirt on and push through a group of overweight tourists, holding your hand to get you through a crowd. Does my co-worker invite me to share his dinner with you and then yell at you, "stop being so Jewish!" when I begin protesting against his generosity. Does the Imam of a local mosque greet you personally as you walk by. Does your boss check with you to see if you would like Shabbat off, despite being an Arab.

Nazareth = City of Tolerance

Ahlan we'sahlan!

So I thought this would be a convenient and smart way to keep all of you, friends and family, updated with my life and experiences here in Nazareth. Currently, this is my third day here and I feel like I have been here for years. I'll start this first post with a brief overview of where I work and history of the Fauzi Azar Inn. I would highly recommend checking out the Fauzi Azar website so you can see for yourself just how gorgeous it is. Built 200 years ago, this mansion was once owned by a Palestinian named Fauzi Azar. You can tell by his last name, Azar, that he is of Christian descent because Azar derives from the name Lazarus in the bible. His granddaughter is the current owner of the house (also my boss) but I am skipping ahead... Fauzi Azar died and the family was left with the decision of what to do what the house. Interestingly, an Israeli Jew by the name of Maoz confronted Fauzi Azar's granddaughter, Suraida (my boss)about converting the Inn into a tourist destination in the Old City of Nazareth. Initially, she was extremely insulted and hurt to be asked by a Jew to buy her grandfather's building and restore it. However, Maoz was persistant and spoke with Suraida's mother about the situation. Over multiple cups of coffee and tea, the Azar's finally relented and decided to sell the house to Maoz. You could only imagine the ensuing results. The Arab population here was in shock and outraged. "The Jews are already taking our land and now you give them our house!" they yelled to the Azar family. However, Suraida was optimistic and ignored the comments. She admits to feeling a surge of pride whenever she hears her grandfather's name mentioned in the streets and sees the Fauzi Azar emblem in local newspapers. Ultimately, Maoz's proposal and actions completely transformed the way local Nazreens view their own neighbors.

Less than ten years later, the Fauzi Azar Inn has been a raving success. It has won numerous awards, but most importantly, it is seen as a place where Jews, Muslims and Christians can come together peacefully. Because of this, I have been opened with welcoming arms to this community. Many of my co-workers are Christian and Muslim Arabs who normally, would judge me for being a Jew. Instead, they treat me as an equal, which is unique for this region of the country.

 The Fauzi Azar Inn is also a representation of Nazareth as a whole. Interestingly, Nazareth, or in Hebrew Netzrat, has the largest Arab population in Israel - 85,000 people! However, Nazareth is like the Inn because it is known to be one of the most, if not the most, tolerant Arab cities in the country. Nazareth's population is not radical and tense, but moderate and relaxed. For instance, the Immam at the local White Mosque participates in monthly worship sessions with a local priest and rabbi. He is always eager to sit down with foreigners to discuss Islam and religion and their experiences in the city. One of my favorite forms of religious tolerance in the city lies in a narrow alleyway. The back room of a local coffee shop is like a glimpse into the past - a smoky room filled with old men playing backgammon. However, these men are not solely Christians or Muslims but a mix of all three dominant religions: Christians, Muslims and Jews. It is a unique place of tolerance and acceptance. Many Israelis stay at the Fauzi Azar and remark that this city doesn't seem to be apart of Israel. It seems like its own entity where people temporarily put aside each other's differences. Never have I believed this to be possible, but it is happening before my very eyes.