Delhi's "Organized Chaos"

We arrived successfully in India, but not without one of the worst plane rides known to man. Over an hour of sitting on the runway, screaming babies, no air-conditioning, a mother (cathy) who would not stop moving through out the entire flight...just a straight up boiling disaster. We managed to make it to Delhi a bit passed 5 AM and arrived at our Riad-like homey-hotel meeting up with Emma, Alex and Lisa. Great to see Emma again, didn't think she was real its been so long. She just ended her semester in Australia and came back a greater hippie then she was before. Alex arrived from Singapore and his travels with a great beard that Lisa refused to call anything else but "pubes on my sons face that he needs to shave." I think that the wolfy thing is something to be some-what proud of.
Alex eating a mango drink, which was the most delicious thing on our street-food tour...with the grizzly beard to capture some of the mango goodness in his mustache

India is unlike anything I or probably anybody has ever seen. Overcrowding, uncontrollable beeping, cows walking through the streets, monkeys that behave like raccoons, the most beautiful/elegant women dressed in exquisite (intricate) sari's, as well as some of the most poverty-stricken slums in the city of Delhi (also elsewhere), which has the makeup of roughly 14 million people. Still, with all of Delhi and the great many of India's problems, I have come to realize that this city is a city of humility and true acceptance. As you walk through the streets or around one of our first destination stops, the India Gate (which for the local residents is quite the hangout spot), people only smile as tourists pass by. Not only to they smile widely, but also accept every and all colors without so-much as a hesitation. We are some of the only white people through as we tour the sites (we have maybe seen a handful of other Caucasians), but I have yet to feel any sort of uncomfortable. It is the tourist off-season due to the monsoons and humid air at the most extreme level...its almost absurd how much you can perspire in 5 minutes here. Even though the 6 of us stand out, the people show nothing but kindness. But it goes beyond this as they approach us constantly not to beg, but mostly to just take a picture with the "fair-skinned" people. Its obviously a weird transgression at first, but then it makes you feel wanted/accepted and beautiful by Delhi's local population.
This accepting nature is also heightened by the city's diverse religious and cultural melting pot it has developed into. You look down the street and residing within a block of each other is a church, a Hindu temple and next to that...temples of various other religious sects. The Lotus Temple is one of the most architectural astounding buildings and officially home to the Baha'i faith (we experienced this on our first day), but it remains open to all, regardless of religion or social makeup. No sermons or ritualistic ceremonies take place so people can gather and worship in any way they choose year round without having to feel like an outsider.

I have always personally thought of religious as a way of just dividing people further, but as we took off our shoes and covered our heads and walked into the Sikh Temple of Delhi, it was the complete opposite feeling that I encountered. A sense of community, giving-back, not to mention beauty engulfed the temple members and its physical marble build. Sacred holy water pools remain on the outside of the temple where you witness adults taking a spiritual dip while children playfully laugh while they put their whole bodies in for a little break from the heat. The temple community offers meals of traditional Indian cuisine to not only followers of the Sikh tradition, but to everyone (regardless of caste, religion, race etc.) with no questions asked...7 days a week. It really is a beautiful sight.

Max and I at the Sikh Temple ("Hey Inder")

The Sikh's finished off the day, but the morning was equally incredible as we started it with a visit to the Red Fort we had to enter with a security check because of a 2000 terrorist attack upon the monument that killed 2 soldiers and 1 civilian. It is an exquisite monument, the biggest of Old Delhi.
Alex, Me and Emma at the Red Fort trying to keep straight faces because Indian's in Delhi rarely smile in their pictures...we are trying to fit in

From the Red Fort, we walked throughout the Old City (which our tour guide Dependra described as "organized chaos") and did a street food tour. I am currently in hopes of overcoming my sensitive mouth habits, but it remains a little difficult as my family is experiencing while i breathe deeply trying to remove the fire going on in my mouth at every meal. "Mild" in India means excruciatingly spicy beyond belief to me, but I eat as much as I can, but then continue to watch Alex, Max, Emma and Cathy sweat from random peppers they oddly take joy out of eating more then one of. Naan and myself staying pretty close these days (a garlic flat bread), but hopefully I will keep progressing as the days continue.

Spice Market where all the evil happens

If you know me though, you know 1. I don't like hot drinks and 2. I rarely drink caffeine, but India's Chai is heavenly! Even if you are dripping with perspiration in places you have not yet experienced and are basking in 100 degree weather, this boiling hot, sweet, gingery drink is so fresh. This is completely absent from our industrialized culture of America, which favors corn-syrup/obesity to real organic foods. As for solid food, Butter chicken and Tikka Masala still remain my favorites, you can really never go wrong with any of the curries or lentils either. Everything is great other than the inhuman amount of spice they put within their dishes, but I accept it as I admire people who are able to eat it.

Walking out of lunch we experienced probably the most adrenaline yet of the trip when Cathy was pick-pocketed by a young teenager who managed to unzip her person and snag her Iphone. Luckily, our two tour guides, Dependra and one (who I have named the "milkman" for his strange love for pure milk straight out of the cows nipples) of the food-tour guides for the day chased after him and recovered her phone. This episode consisted of some team effort on their part; Dependra grabbed the kid by the neck while "milkman" proceeded to slap and kick him profusely after they had found the phone in his pocket. I asked the "milkman" later if he hit people a lot and this chubby-smiley tour guide of the day smiled and replied "yessss, I do." Supposedly he has a very hard-hand and that hard-hand made him the hero of the day. Mommy got her Iphone back and all was well for the Americans, not so good for the lying thief who claimed "someone else had handed him the phone," when clearly he ran into my mom and swiped the phone from her purse.

We are now back at the hotel waiting to receive word from Lisa to see if she will feel better (she just got home from the hospital with dehydration) to stay in this incredible country with us :-)

GI Tract and Jesus Struggles in the Homeland

The first day in Israel was kind of a blur; we rode bikes up to Jaffa, through the markets and around Tel Aviv so I could get a feel for the city, but my first day in Israel coincided right with my first jet-lag.One thing that did happen that day though was that I feel completely in love with this city and came to the conclusion that I will indeed be living here someday. Don't know how that's going to happen yet, but I will figure that one out at a later date. How could I not fall in love with this city when the hummus is so delicious, mmmmmmm.

We continued the next day onto the Tzvat, the founding city of Kabballah (which some of you probably only know about because Madonna pretends to be a strong believer and which Whitney Houston may of said she adhered too in-between one of the many rehab stints). Tzvat was very unique, but before I get too much into the educational and meaningful nature of Tzvat, let me just get one thing out. It may get a bit graphic, but just deal with it...it happens to the best of us. I seem to be having a bit of a GI Tract issue whenever I travel (no matter what country). I even have made this trip a conscious effort to eat high-fiber foods to try and suck what I refer to as my "poop pouch" out of my body. No such luck, other than in one of the 4 holliest cities in Israel (outside of Jerusalem), Tzvat. I found myself subjecting these nice, orthodox,candle-shop workers to the sprint I had to take into their store to just barely make it into their holy bathroom before I pooped my pants. Now, I didn't mean to subject these nice two ladies to anything that may seem rude to their conservative way of life, but as I sprinted past them I did not say one word and I believe when I came out of the bathroom I received the first of my many awkward looks from an Israeli citizen (more to come later). We have come to call this little episode "Liza Sharted in Tzvat," but I didn't actually shart, it was just the closest thing to it I think someone could of got.

(Definition of Shart: a small, unintended defecation that occurs when one relaxes the anal sphincter to fart (blend of "shit" and "fart"))

I realize this is very unattractive, disgusting and maybe a bit disturbing, but things happen and you just gotta "roll with the punches."
Other than my minor malfunction within Tzvat, I loved this city. The highest city in all of Israel, the view is breathtaking with the Golan heights
in the east and Lebannon to the north (yes, we said hello to our Hezbollah friends). The curvy narrow beige streets are made up of light cobblestone and orthodox beards/sideburns go in the background to rambunctious school children, art-decor and beautiful Israeli soldiers.
I am a little scarred from this journey, but hopefully I will return to Tzvat in hopes of setting free my GI Tract jynx.

As you may know, the reason for coming to Israel was for Gilad's niece Arielle's bat mitzvah in Jerusalem. We drove to Jerusalem and went on a tour where I was again subjected to inconsiderate comments by our tour guide Doo Doo. Ironic that the tour guides name was Doo Doo after I had just experienced such a shameful experience only days prior having to do with the very Doo Doo itself. Anyways, I thought I was going to get a complete tour of Jerusalem, but what I and my family got was a "jesus tour" around the city. From the very start of the tour even my mother asked me for one of my adderall so she could get through the day. I didn't think she was actually serious, but as I pulled one of the pills out of my bag, Cathy Jo was like a cheetah to snatch that thing up and swallow it with a quick swig of water. About twenty minutes later she came up to me and said:
"Liza, I feel like I am on shrooms."
Me: "Why mother?"
Cathy: "I don't know Liza, I have never done shrooms but I do feel like going ZINGGG!"
Me: "are you kidding me?"
And she proceeds to put her pointer finger up in the air and say "ZING!" once again like a hyper hyena in the christian quarter of the city. Good work Cath.
Even with the adderall intake we still could not pay attention to Doo Doo and the 14 steps of Jesus he led us through, but for some reason I was the target through out the tour and Doo Doo kept calling me out in front of Gilad's whole family, as well as mine. Every 5 seconds Doo Doo would look through my sunglasses somehow and tell me, "Liza! come over here! get closer!" "Liza are you listening?" "Liza you are not close enough to the jesus rock!"
Doo Doo was a whole pile of poo poo in conclusion. Because of that tour, I think I actually have to change my name because he called it so many times. I also got the pleasure of seeing Doo Doo in the Meridian hotel at the dead sea when the two of us rode in silence up the 11 floors to my room.
We also concluded that I have Christophobia. This is when you are afraid of devout christ-lovers. And as I witnessed people in hysterics when entering the church Jesus was either crucified in, bathed in, undressed in or maybe just set foot in...I saw this. I had to leave the church immediately, but obviously not before I too could see the Jesus rock up close to ensure Doo Doo's happiness.
I think ill just stick to modern history and spiritual guidance not based upon a Messiah.

The Bat Mitzvah:
Arielle had her bat mitzvah at the western wall, which was pretty incredible. Putting a prayer into the wall (or hope) was a very powerful experience. I am really not a religious person (as you may have noticed), but as I placed my prayer amongst the Orthodox Jews to my left and right and said the Mourner's kaddish for my Papa and cousin Zachary I really felt a spiritual presence at that wall. I really don't know how else to put it into words, but I just had a strong effect on me.
I don't really have much to say about the Bat Mitzvah considering I could not hear a single word of it, as 5 other b'nai mitzvahs were going on within ten feet of ours. The rabbi was 45 minutes late though so things got off to a great start. As our family does though, we made the best of it and had a laugh or two.

We continued our journey to the Dead Sea and Lakhish (moshav outside of Tel Aviv). I would have to put climbing the snake trail and seeing the sunrise at Masada should be put on everyones list of "things to do before you die." This could easily be my favorite part of the trip. We left the hotel at 4:30 to hike up to the historical city of Masada. You arrive at the top of the Jordean Mountains (not without seeing a few people intensely struggle along the way) and overlook the Dead Sea with a view of Jordan out in the distance. The first Jewish-Roman war concluded this cities overthrow of Jewish control and led to the Jews mass suicide, but the fortifications and palaces still sit atop the mountain.

As we made our way back to Israel we stopped at the Moshav my mom spent some time on when she was 20 and living in Israel. Lakhish grows grapes (some of the most amazing tasting grapes in the world), but what really makes Lakhish special is the people on it. Efrat, my mom's israeli "sister," was one of the most amazing people I have ever met. She recently moved back to Israel from Japan, where her three kids were born. She has such a positive energy about her. When you meet her you automatically feel her warmth and love, which is so unique and refreshing. Max and my mom told me this about her before I even met her and within three seconds, I felt it too. I would like to be her. She recently got back from a trip to Japan where she was successful in one of her many charity projects where she distributed blankets to many of the children tsunami victims. Her generosity and drive, not to mention she speaks fluent hebrew, english, japanese and a little bit of German are incredible. Not only her, but the entire family on the Moshav make you immediately feel like you are one of their own. (If you are reading this Efrat, we will see you in Colorado!)

We end our journey today as we leave for India in a couple hours, but a couple other things I would like to make a note of in the concluding phase of the first leg on my journey.
1. As I experienced my stepbrother coming from his travels in Asia with some of the worst body odor I have ever smelled in my life, I have to remind myself to SHOWER.
2. Come back to Tel Aviv as soon as possible
3. Learn from traveling, learn from the people you are surrounded by in other countries and be open to what they can add to your life in order to become a better person
4. Never stop traveling.

One last thing that my mother, my brother and I learned from one special person on this journey (little bit of an inside joke sorry), but "money does not by happiness." Thank you to this person for teaching me this.

I sign off now, can't wait for the India. Nameste everyone. Shalom!