Today we went up to the Golan Heights. It was so cold and windy, Boaz refused to get off the bus. (Yeah, he really wouldn’t like Winnipeg, especially in the winter). We saw tanks that were left over from various wars, and everywhere we were surrounded by fences indicating land mines. When Israel took over the Golan in 67, they only cleared some of the mine fields since; the rest are still there. It’s weird being so close to something like that.
Next stop was the Golan Heights winery, a surefire hit with a bunch of Birthrighters, and one of the few places in Israel actually making decent wine. I know very little about wine now, but what I knew then you could have fit on the back of a postage stamp. (Um, there’s red? And white?) I didn’t fully appreciate the tasting session, because for some reason I was disappointed that the wine wasn’t sweeter. Go figure.
From there, we ran through the pouring rain to see a cheesy film. Then, we saw a miniature model of the Golan Heights, and a film put together by the people who believe that Israel should not give them back to Syria no matter what. The previous day, at Kibbutz Ma’ayan Baruch, we’d spoken to a 70-year-old resident who helped pioneer the area, and lost a son at war, and still believed Israel should return the Golan in a peace treaty. Both sides. Israelis were very divided on the issue, and remain so today. Unlike other areas that have mostly symbolic significance, the Golan’s importance is military; the Heights overlook Israel’s Hula Valley, and before 1967, snipers regularly fired on farmers and civilians living there. Not to mention that 1/3 of Israel’s water supply comes from the Golan. Things are rarely black and white.
The next stop was Safed, the centre of Jewish mysticism. Kabbalah has existed for thousands of years, long before Madonna ever recorded a pop song, of course. Most everything in Safed was closed for some reason, but the candle factory was open, so we spent a while there shopping for unique candles and loading up on gifts for people.
Our return to Netanya was memorable due to the windstorm. It blew our bags down the block as we unloaded them off the bus, nearly blew some of our group members away, and knocked out the power to the whole city. Everyone else freaked out. Us Montrealers merely took our our flashlights and played cards. We’re used to Loto-Hydro; power failures don’t faze us.
At night, we went to Tel Aviv to a disco. I think they were trying to show us the “cool” side of Israel or something, but they flubbed this a little. The disco was cheesy and kind of seedy, and we’d had much better nights out in Israel already on our own. Other tours were kept under lock and key at night, not allowed out on their own, so maybe they would’ve appreciated this. And indeed, within a few months, the security matzav had deteriorated so much that even the Oranim trips kept a tight leash on their participants. But we were free to do as we pleased, so we were free to roll our eyes at the disco. Nearly everyone got plastered, anyway. Last night of the trip, oh well.