A lazy day in Siena...

I wrote this one a while ago but never posted it.  I hope you enjoy it:


Today took off to a bit of a lethargic start. Some of us slept in and arose just to work on school or other work, or simply to read a book. Ellie had awaken much earlier than I, and taken a walk somewhere around ten in the morning, but to this I was quite oblivious until later. At about noon, Ellie and I were sent off quickly to the supermarket, a journey from which we triumphantly returned half an hour to an hour later with a backpack full of fresh groceries for the night's dinner.

I stocked the groceries in the refrigerator or the cupboard, depending on where they needed to go of course, and resigned to the couch to enjoy a bit more of Mark Twain's enchanting invention, Tom Sawyer. Wonderful enough to read, but this is now a labor, being school work. It is true that all I must do is summarize each chapter and answer but a few questions, so it is not difficult, not in the least, only annoying. But isn't it true that this is the business of all school-related labors?

We were all quite happy with simply sitting on the sofa or laying in bed or whatnot and simply, as the kids are saying today: “ch-lax-ing”, but these sloth-esk ways were not the ways of the intrepid Bortman family, and we all soon began to take note of this. Soon thereafter, in fact, no more than an hour later than Ellie and I returned from the store, we had all decided to go out the the “Fortezza”, or small fortress-like compound just outside the city walls, for a jog.  Unfortunately, every member of our family runs at a different pace, so jogging together usually results in one extremely tired soul, and one who's breathing heavily, at most. But now that we know our surroundings in the tiny city of Siena quite well, none of us mind splitting up and meeting up again at the Fortezza.

Mom and I set out first, with Dad and Ellie following behind. We each had a pair of keys, hers in her pocket, and I, having no pockets, had tied mine onto my shoelace.  Then we both, each with keys jingling with every step, set out in opposite directions. Mom chose to take a more direct route to the Fort, up the main drag and out, whereas I had planned to go away from it at first, loop around the Duomo and hug the wall until I could no longer, then weave back to the main street and out.

After a mere five minutes, I accidentally, and quite unconsciously, stumbled back out onto the main street, for in such a small city, with roads which simply wind every which way with no rhyme or reason, it is extremely hard not to emerge just where you were trying to leave, but not even realize your blunder until you're back where you started. This was one of those moments, although I seem to experience them quite frequently. Fortunately, this happened just as Mom was passing by that spot, so I said hello, and we both continued on our way. For her, that was straight, up the main road, but I was going to cross the Campo and make a gradual arc back around to the street. I did this, but of course not without fairly completely disorienting myself in the process, only to recover by somehow stumbling back on to the Campo. That was where I rejoined the main street and set off down the same way mom had. Then, after following this road for simply a matter of minutes, I arrived at the piazza where the supermarket is, and, more importantly, the road to the Fortezza.

As soon as you leave the piazza, the road comes to a fork. I take the left, which I know is the longer way, for exercise purposes, but it's also a bit of a risk. I only know where the entrance is in relation to the road down the right fork. Even though the two roads do again meet directly across from the Fortezza, so that they form a kind of disfigured circle around the fortress, I'm not sure how well my sense of direction will hold up, for this is no slightly disfigured circle, like the one an over-enthusiastic child will draw with his worn-down Crayolas. This is one with angles and inversions and many other things not included in your stereotypical circle. I find the entrance soon enough though, and quite easily as well, I might add. I may not have known where it was, coming from the left end of the fork, but as soon as I got my bearings, I guided myself to the ramp which marks the way in with ease.

I spot Mom almost immediately upon entering. Neither of us had seen head nor heel of either Dad or Ellie, so we went in opposite directions again, hoping to sandwich them in between us. You see the part of the Fortezza that is mostly the part used by the pedestrians are the ramparts, which form something that would probably be called an irregular 28-agon. In other words, we succeeded in our task. We, meaning mom, dad, who we found, and I, went about half way around until I went ahead and put my energy into catching the two of them from behind, but after I achieved this feat, is was quite obvious that dad had also run ahead, for it was only mom who I caught, but this was okay with me, I ran a lap with her until we met up with dad and Ellie by the entrance.

Ellie wanted mom to go to the small clearing in the center of the Fortezza with her, which is also open to the public, but much less used, to kick a soccer ball around. Mom obliged and Dad and I completed a final lap around the fortress, but when we returned to the clearing in search of Mom and Ellie, they were nowhere to be found. We waited for them to come out of one of the nooks or crannies around but they didn't. We looked all about the ramparts, still no sign of them so we turned our own sights to home, where we figured they had set off to.

My father and I exited the Fortezza, but before we headed back the way we, or rather I, came, we came across a side road which we can only assume runs down to our car. You see, the walled city of Siena is on the top of a hill for obvious strategic reasons, being built in the Middle Ages. Beside the hill is a valley where the road is, and that is where we park our car and then ride the public service escalators up to the city. Yes, escalators. You see, one day the city was feeling generous....to an extent, but more conceivably plainly annoyed by many complaints from the citizens about the endless flights of stairs and hilly streets from the street below up to the city. In order to stop this flow of complaints, they installed a series of escalators up from street level to the city. Of course, its still possible to drive up to the city, as long as you have the right permits. If you live in the city center, you can drive your car into town , but it involves taking a very out-of-the-way and winding road. And then there's the matter of parking, and navigating the tiny, curving streets, and avoiding pedestrians as you attempt to do so.

Here are Ellie and I heading down the set of 6 enclosed escalators that go down the hill into the valley.  You still have to walk quite a way downhill to get to our car once you exit the escalators...but I'm not complaining!

But back to the matter at hand: Dad and I follow this road, with its many twists and turns, slowly descending into the valley below. That is, until we stop descending and start ascending, and at an extremely steep grade as well, but we fight through it and end up just where we started following this unknown road. Did I not mention how often a thing like that happens in Siena? For if I didn't, then I should. Almost constantly in Siena, you are lead to believe you have discovered some new section of town, one which you have not visited and explored before, only to have your hopes crushed the next instant by a sight more familiar than the skin on your knuckles. But dad and I return the way he and Mom came, down the main drag, and spicing it up a little by running off to either side and rejoining the original street a few blocks later.

We soon arrived at home where Mom and Ellie had already been for quite a time. We could tell they had arrived there a considerable time before we, for Ellie had already showered, a laborious and long ordeal in her case.  I went back into the room Ellie and I share, which is also where I keep my computer and all other school “stuff”, as the kids say, and get to work of a medley of different tasks.

After approximately an hour of working, I head back out into the kitchen, for dinner is long overdue by now and my stomach is grumbling and grunting like some sort of monster.  Ellie is making dinner this night and, of course, won't allow anyone else to help in the slightest, so progress is painfully slow. I decide to at least prepare a quaint salad. Mom has found a recipe for a homemade Caesar dressing. It sounds wonderful, if you ignore the fact that we do not have half the ingredients, but I set about making it anyway. I am only just finishing the first step, squeezing a lemon's acidic juice into a bowl, when I am stopped short. It's Ellie declaring that I may not offer any help, no matter if it is only at making the dressing for the salad, so I retire back to my room.

The meal, which we receive half an hour later, is a type of Asian stir-fried chicken and broccoli, which is meant to be eaten with the salad and makeshift Caesar dressing. It was not half bad in actuality, although it is one of the stranger combination of flavors we've had for dinner. It was quite good indeed, but the real treat was dessert. In our cooking class in Rome, we learned how to make chocolate lava cakes. Rich molten chocolate, just baked on the outside to form a warm, soft shell for the flowing ooze on the inside. We overcooked ours a bit, so they ended up more like actual cakes with a smidge of melted chocolate in the center, but still, the cake it formed is amazingly smooth and moist, and the centers, being made of batter that was half dark chocolate, weren't half bad either.

Our chocolate lava cakes...delicious.

Good Teachers

I know that this is generally been what dad has been writing, but I'd like to put my two cents into the “Good Teachers” pages. For the last four weeks on Saturdays, Ellie and I have been taking art and acting lessons in Florence, in both of which we had an awesome time. I think the amazing leaders of both of these classes deserve their own section in our “Great Teachers” list.

First, in the morning was art with Marco. This was really a personal class, because Marco had lots of kids coming at all different times for different periods of time, so Ellie and I made up one entire “class” of our own, if you will. Marco was a wonderful teacher. He introduced us to a form of art called bas-relief. It may have been a lot of work (we made a clay model, a plaster cast and then we finally created the final product out of concrete, which of course needed to be painted), but we learned so much about all different mediums and had a great time doing so.

The clay was fun, just as clay usually is, but this was much different than regular sculpture. First, we took a lump of clay and made it into a sort of tablet. Once we had the tablet, we picked a picture from one of the nature books Marco had (I picked a tiger shark and Ellie chose a flamingo), and drew the outline on our tablet. From that, we actually built upwards, placing on tiny bits of clay on top of the outline. That was the most time consuming part, for me at least. I'm sure it could have something to do with me being a perfectionist and never having been able to get anything done in a short amount of time, anyway.

Then we applied plaster over the clay. The first layer of plaster we dyed pink, so when we dug out the clay, we would know when to stop. The rest of the layers were white and all of the plaster went on rather quickly and dried faster than I expected it would. Once the plaster was dry, we dug out the clay model and carefully washed our plaster casts in Marco's freezing cold sink. After I had brushed my shark's teeth, it was time for cement. Ellie, Marco and I mixed a couple buckets-full and ever so carefully poured it into our plaster molds. We shook the molds to get the air out of the cement then covered. We were then forced to wait until the next class to do any further work.

Once the cement was dry a week later, we took a hammer and chisel and chipped away the plaster shells to reveal the final forms. We, again, scrubbed down our new creations and then went off to paint. Ellie finished painting her flamingo that day, but I, being quite a bit more meticulous (to put it in a nice way), didn't finish until the following and, sadly, final week. I am proud to say that all of our efforts paid off and we now have some wonderful cement bas-relief panels to take back to the US.

After we left Marco's studio each weekend, we made our way across the Arno River and town to the acting class in that was held in the cafeteria of a private school in Florence. It was taught by Suzanne, Elia, and two other English speaking moms, who were obviously seasoned professionals. It was definitely more of an actual “class” than Marco's operation. It was a six week course in improvisation and the Commedia Del'Arte, although, sadly, we were only able to attend four of the weeks. The class was composed of about sixteen kids, most of whom spoke English, two or three didn't, but it wasn't a problem.

Each week we would warm up with vocal and body exercises. Some days we would do some improv activities, others we would learn about our Commedia characters, who we would be acting out. Some weeks we also made real Commedia masks based on the ones our characters wore. I was actually to be playing two female roles, so I had no restrictions on my mask (actresses didn't wear masks in the Commedia Dell'Arte), so I definitely took advantage of that. One week, we even brought in random house-hold items and, on the spot, had to integrate them into our little sketches.

We had a wonderful time meeting all the other kids, but it truly was the teachers who made the class so novel. Their teaching, coaching and advice in the Commedia, improvisation, and just acting overall was nothing short of wonderful. We learned so much and I think it really helped us to discover ourselves as actors, even if it means Ellie's voice is two octaves lower than mine, and I have boobs the size of bowling balls (see video).

Here's me making my mask on my face for a custom fit.

Here's Ellie and I wearing our masks after the improvements made in acting class....i may still have even a couple more ideas.

Our whole acting class wearing our finished masks.

Marco and I with my shark.

My shark

From left to right: Marco, Ellie, Me

Here's a quick run-down of all the characters in the skit (we all chose Comedia Dell'Arte stock characters and studied and adopted their personalities)

• Ellie is an inamorato ("o"=male), or lover, named Izabello (see the "o" again). I am an inamorata ("a"=female) named Izabella. Both lovers are extremely self-consumed and vain. They care about their appearance more than anything else. They do not truly love each other, only themselves, and they enjoy one another simply because they think the other person looks like them.

• Mia (the short girl) is Arlechino (otherwise known as the Harlequin). He is mischievous, energetic and always pulling pranks on other people. He is extremely acrobatic and dances around rather than walks.

• Vivian (the taller girl in all black) in Stintarello, a slightly less common Comedia character, but still extremely funny. He is fat, slow and stupid, 'nuff said.

( We had to cut the video into two parts to get it to load.)

Checking in from Italy...at last

I hope you enjoy this video we put together about the volcanoes we visited near Naples.  I think you've all probably heard about Mt Vesuvius before...but Sulfatara isn't well known and it was just as cool.  

 

Highlights of Israel

Israel is such a small piece of land that has seen so much history, and is jam-packed with things to do. All of this makes Israel a thoroughly entertaining place to visit, and I enjoyed so much of it, but one day of our stay there (which encompassed a couple different activities, of course), truly stuck out to me as my favorite. This day, our group took a day trip from our hotel in Jerusalem. We hopped on the bus bright and early in the morning and headed out into the dessert.

Our first stop, and I must say, the least exciting or entertaining of them all, was a quick peek into what they call, the Ahava factory, but in truth, it's just a big store. What is Ahava? Its a line of skin-care products produced with dead-sea minerals, which are supposed to be very good for your skin. But we soon shoved off, and now, it was only a short drive to our next destination: Masada.

Masada is a great, mountain-top fortress and palace built by Herod the Great, the very same one who built Caeseria around the time of Christ. It was also where a small band of about 100 Jews held out for over three years while besieged by the great Roman army. I'm afraid we weren't able to experience Masada as the people of Herod's time would have, for we had to take the cable car, a thoroughly modern addition to the site, up to the top due to time constraints. In the end, though, it was a truly memorable experience, even though it rained which I'm pretty sure it only does about twice a year, so you can imagine our surprise. But the views and history were truly wonderful, all animated greatly by our guide, Ruven. After Masada, there was another bus ride through winding sand dunes in the middle of the dessert, to a Bedouin’s encampment. It was a fake camp, set up to show tourists what Bedouin life was like before technology began to degrade their traditions. But, we learned about true Bedouin hospitality, and ate a truly delicious traditional lunch, and we even rode camels along the way. But it doesn't stop there. Oh no, the most memorable stop is still to come.

We jumped back on the bus, we drove back onto the winding sand-dune road, and a little down the “main road” of the desert. We arrived at the Ein Gedi Spa, on the banks of the Dead Sea, the lowest and saltiest place on Earth. We all went into the spa's changing rooms to lock up our valuables and put our swim trunks on. At this point, I was with my dad, and we managed to find our way down to the huge troughs of special, mineral-rich, Dead Sea mud for smearing onto your body. If you've ever been to the Dead Sea yourself, you'll recall that covering in mud is like covering yourself in grease, which smells quite distinctly of sulfur. And at 4 or 4:30pm when we were there, and the sun was already beginning to set over the mountains and dunes to the West, it was very cold mud. But – it's supposed to be great for the skin, so of course, we had to partake in the tradition. Dad and I joked with a group of kids from somewhere up North, near Denmark, as we all shivered profusely, and piled a thick layer of stinky, black mud onto just about every exposed inch of skin, yes even our faces. I made the mistake of putting it on, and subsequently in my ear, where it remained until we returned to our hotel later that evening. So a tip for tourists, don't put Dead Sea mud in you ear, even by accident. People will laugh at you. Now that we've got that squared away, I can tell you that then we went to the showers, which sprayed the sea's highly potent water down on you, to wash off the thick layer of horrid smelling mud we'd accumulated. It does sting a bit on your face and other delicate skin, so we tried to get those parts done first. Then we took our time washing off our torsos and legs. Then the main attraction: a dip in the sea itself.

We took a tram type-thing to the edge of the sea. Those who were there twenty to thirty years ago may be wondering “Why is this? Isn't the edge of the sea just outside of the spa?”. It was, back in 1985, but since then the sea has receded about a third of a mile, leaving salt flats back where it used to be. But now was the moment of truth, the Dead Sea. And when going in, always remember to wear something on your feet, because the bottom is pointy – there's no sand at all, just hardened salt. Going in felt like walking into jell-o, or maybe something a little less viscous, but you get the point. We waded out, amidst many warnings to not get your face wet, and cries of how cool it was, to where the water was up to our chests.

It was kind of hard to do at first, but what you must do, to achieve the Dead Sea's iconic floating experience is to simply lay back, and let your feet fall out from under you. It's a bit strange to start because, normally, you would just fall on your butt, but not there, not at the Dead Sea. There, your feet float up in front of you and you gently recline, bobbing up and down effortlessly on the surface to the rhythm of the gentle, shore-bound waves.

After a while of floating around and realizing just how cool it was, we had to get out and tram back up to the spa, where we took a quick sulfur-bath, which smelled as bad as the mud, and then dried off and changed. Then back on the bus and back to Jerusalem for a very sound night's sleep.

Me and Andrew Gordon on our camel, and Stan and Melody Katz on theirs

Ellie and Dad and then me and Andrew Gordon behind

Inside the Bedouin tent, where we had lunch

This is Uncle Craig, Mom, Aunt Marcy, Miss Lisa (O'Rourke), and Ellie and Jenna in front - none are as completely covered as Dad and I were but we can't find a picture of us yet.  My bald grandfather even smeared it on his head! (more pics to come!)

THIS is the picture we were looking for! (Thanks Grandpa!)

Our first week away...

(Sorry I haven't  posted anything in a while.  As you can see, the tour kept us very busy.  We had no time to write or get online...so now we're playing catch-up...)

Day 1- 12/19/10

We step off the airplane in Ben-Gurion Airport, Lod, just outside of Tel Aviv. Amazingly, there was practically no line for customs, in fact, the whole airport, on both ends, was pretty much empty. Everything there was a breeze, so then, we claimed our baggage and jumped on a shuttle bus which took us to Budget (to rent a car). We picked up a “stylish” Mitsubishi Grandi. And about that, there is a whole different style of cars here. First off, there are almost no SUVs here, all compacts, mostly because gas is about seven bucks a gallon. There are also a few brands of car you will see here that you won't in the US: Peugeot (POO-joe), Citroen (SIT-trown), Renault (REN-oe). Some cars are pretty stylish, some are pretty....not. One of the most popular is actually the Kangoo, which is pretty ugly if you feel like running a Google search on it. The drivers are pretty bad as well, not as bad as people made them out to be, but more like the worst of the worst in Boston.

Now getting back on topic, after picking up the car, we drove to Zichron Ya'achov, a small, mountain-top town, where we will stay for the next four days. We checked into our little hotel, got settled in (this is all around 6:30, Israel time) and then went out for a quick walk, had dinner on the town promenade, and that is when we discovered the cats. They were everywhere, all cities, all towns, more on pedestrian streets than highways, but always there...watching.

Day 2- 12/20/10

Our first full day in Israel! How exciting. We enjoyed breakfast at our hotel, which is mostly salad, along with bread, jam and cheese, occasionally yogurt, and then we hung out there, at the hotel, until about noon, when we headed out to Zippori. Zippori is a national park in Israel, and it features mosaics from the Roman and Greek ages. Literally dozens of them, each containing upwards of a million tiles, but they were quite beautiful.

After we had our share of mosaics, we jumped back in the car and set off for a random small town. There, we found a nice looking cafe and settled down for lunch. As it turns out, our waiter, Lotem, had actually been born in the United States while her parents were going to college, so she spoke English very well. Don't get me wrong, almost everyone in Israel speaks English, it is actually very convenient if you are like me, and don't speak any Hebrew, she just spoke exceptionally well, and was exceptionally friendly. After that, back to the hotel, a bit of relaxing, and another dinner out on the town.

Day 3- 12/21/10

Again, breakfast in the hotel, then to Haifa where we went to the beautiful Ba'hai Gardens. Ba'hai in one of the newest world religions, and the gardens are the burial site of their founder. We took a tour of the amazing blooming gardens, which featured tons of different and exotic plants. Then it was off to Akko, where we toured the citadel (fortress) and walked the city streets. Akko has been inhabited since the bronze age. Later, the Romans built a breakwater in order to expand the harbor. During the Arab period, the city was built where it is now, and was later fortified by the crusaders. Since its first in-habitation in the 16^th century BCE, it has been ruled by more than 15 empires and nations.

After that we went back to Haifa, to a spot about 3 blocks west of the Ba'hai Gardens, very appropriately named, the German Colony. It is one of the few, if not the only, place in Israel where you will see Christmas décor at almost every turn, and even a giant Christmas tree made of recycled bottles in the square. Of course, we eat at the restaurant with the most lights, the most inflatable santas, and the loudest Christmas music. It was delicious.

Day 4- 12/22/10

Today we got an earlier start than on all days previous, but that's not saying much. Anyways, we all piled into the car once again and set off on a northeasterly course, along the southern coast of the Sea of Galilee. It was a fairly nice drive up until about 5 miles after crossing the Jordan River. Not only did the road become as twisted and curvy as the roads to Monte Verde, in Costa Rica, but at the very least, there were paved, but unlike Costa Rica, 3 layers of barbed wire fence, covered in foreboding signs marked “DANGER: MINE-FIELD”, stood between us and the bunker-dotted valley below. Also not like Costa Rica, the possibility of incoming hostile missiles from the opposite side of the border, only across the valley.

But what was the point of such a daring exploit? What could possibly make us want to go driving, hauling around turns on a road only the width of the car, usually a few inches less, half of the car careening over a mine-ridden valley? The Hamat-Gader hot springs. Yes, despite their precarious location, the hot springs were hopping! They may have smelled a little bit (or a lot-a-bit) of sulfur, and the bottom may have been slightly slimy, but it was an experience. Although nothing like the beautiful Tabacon in Costa Rica, it was fun, and we also got to checkout some cool animals they had on-site, such as alligators, crocodiles, and gavrils (ugly looking things, kind of like alligators or crocodiles, but with a long, extremely thin snout). After drying out a bit, we went, yes, you guessed it, back in the car for the return trip, back to Zichron Ya'achov, but midway, we stopped to skip some rocks in the Sea of Galilee.

Day 5-12/23/10

This was moving day. We packed up our things in Zichron Ya'achov, piled, once again, into the car and began the drive to Tel Aviv. On the way, we stopped to only preview Caesarea, for we're going there on our tour later in the week, but, it was on the way, so we decided to stop and check it out. We looked

at the ancient aqueduct, built by Herod the Great, and sat at the beach for a while. By the way, all the beaches like this one, which are at the cite of an ancient city, are covered in small pieces of pottery. To put that in perspective, Caesarea was built in about 30 CE, so practically millions of 2000-year-old shards, just lying all over the place. History really is quite abundant.

Afterwards, we drove a bit farther to Natanya, a small, seaside town with a spectacular view where we ate lunch. Then back in the car and on to Tel Aviv. In Tel Aviv, we checked in to the hotel that the whole group would be staying in the next day.

Day 6- 12/24/10

Today, the rest of our tour group arrived at about 5 in the morning, but of course it took them, a fairly large group of about 30, a couple of hours to go through customs, get luggage, and get on the tour bus. Yes, we had our own private tour bus. It sounded pretty sweet at the start, but we may have spent a bit too much time in there before the trip was over. And the tour group was not just a random group of people who we had never met before, in the group were my grandparents on my mom's side (my dad's parents had already been with us since the beginning, and will leave a bit early), my aunt (mom's sister) and uncle, and two little cousins, and a bunch of our friends from PA, almost all are members of our old synagogue, so we are very close with them. Even my old preschool teacher, Carrie, (I went to the synagogue’s preschool) was there with her daughter, Miriam.  (And Carrie is the one who planned and organized the trip and will be leading my bar mitzvah service...She's the reason we originally decided to come on the trip.)

Anyways, the bus picked us up from the hotel, in which we were still the only ones who had checked in yet, at 8:30 and we drove to the neighboring port city of Jaffa. Our tour guide, Ruven, who was later described as “... a [cool guy] who looks like a thin Santa with a cowboy hat.” told us a lot about the history of Jaffa and the biblical and historical happenings there, which were of great importance not only to Judaism, but Christianity as well.

After that, we drove to the market, called the “shuk” and shopped around for a while. But since it was a Friday, there was also an artist's market apart from the usual market, which sold little souvenirs, t-shirts, and little everyday items as well as, my favorite part, fruit and vegetables, raw or dried, and a huge assortments of baked goods like cookies and baklava. The artist's market was a different affair completely. Tons of artists set out tables of beautiful, wonderfully unique, had-made pieces of art.

After that, back on the bus, back to the hotel, where the rest of the group checked in. We just hung around in our rooms for a while and then we went down to dinner, in the hotel. Dinner was followed by a short service to welcome Shabbat and then off to bed.

Day 7- 12/25/10

It's the moment of truth, today is my Bar-Mitzvah. One of my friends thoroughly encouraged me to run around the hotel in my boxers as my last boyish act, but I politely declined. After a light breakfast (lighter for me than anyone else, I think) we went off to a little room in the hotel which we had rented out and began my service. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and I left a “man”, as my aunt put it, quotes and all.

After that, we rested, as is the tradition on the sabbath. After some resting, mom and I went for a run and then some of my friends on the tour and I went swimming in the Mediterranean sea.

Day 8- 12/26/10

Today, we went to the Palmach “Museum”. Why is the word museum in quotes? Let me explain more thoroughly: The Palmach was a fighting force assembled in around 1945, right before the war for independence, in which they fought. The word museum is in quotes because this, despite being called one, was much more than a museum. As you walked through a series of 14 rooms, all were designed to look like the place where the event, which was being projected on one of the walls, was taking place, and ranged from the desert, to the forest, to the hull of a ship. All the while, a small, hand-held device was giving color commentary to the happenings, surroundings, and even what the people in the video were saying. The preface of the entire museum, by the way, is that you are following the journeys of 12 of the earliest members of the Palmach until the war was over.

After that, we bussed over to the Independence Hall of Israel where a woman gave us a presentation on exactly what happened the day Israel declared its independence. After that, we just walked around a couple different parts of the city, including the “ big and up-and-coming” part, which is a lot like Greenwich Village. It used to be a slum, but people have started buying up the houses and fixing them up, and it has become prime real-estate with lots of artists living there and opening stores selling their stuff.

At night, Carrie, the leader of our tour, and my pre-school teacher that I mentioned before, surprised us. She invited a couple of her friends, who were in their own little two-man band called The Shuk, to come and entertain us. We danced and sang for a little while, and then we all turned in.

Day 9-12/27/10

Today was one of the coolest days of the tour. In the morning, we all jumped onto the bus after a hearty breakfast at the hotel, and headed a little bit south to the Ayalon Institute. The “institute's” (its not really an institute in any respect) story is this: During the war for independence (1948) there was a kibbutz (community) where the institute's museum is today. Some members of the kibbutz wanted to do their part to help Israel, so they basically dug a huge, underground warehouse and brought down machines to make bullets... right under the kibbutz, which they used as their disguise. It was so secret that only the few people who worked in the “factory” could know anything about it, some even had to keep it a secret from their husbands or wives. They produced over 300,000 bullets daily, and produced about one third of all the bullets used in the war (on the Israeli side).

After that, back on the bus, we headed a little south to a fire station in Rishon Litzion. Carrie has a friend who owns a fire supply company, so before we left the US, she raised some money and bought gear to bring to the firefighters in Israel after the huge fire they had just experienced. We had all taken some fire-proof gloves and/or hoods over in our luggage, and here we gave them over. The reaction we got was tons more than any one of us could have ever imagined. The firefighters were so appreciative.  When we arrived, they had arranged a long table (long as in 20 to 30 feet) covered in sweets and cookies, but it didn't stop there. After we had had a bite to eat, we got four training demonstrations. The first was removing an injured person from a damaged car after an accident, the second was bio-hazardous material clean-up,the third, how they would enter and exit a very tall building using ropes and pulleys, and the last was the various different types of fire extinguishers and how to use them. And then, this was one of the most entertaining parts, all of the kids who were big enough to do so, were allowed to wear an oxygen tank and but on the special mask, and subsequently sound very much like Darth Vader.

Then, on the bus again, we headed farther South to Beit Guvrin, where we visited an archeological dig site. First, we actually got to dig in an active archeological site, what would have been a basement in an ancient house (and where many folks actually found pieces of pottery and bone dating back thousands of years). Then, back up to the surface where we did some sifting through the finer rubble and dirt, and then, my favorite part of the day, a trek through an ancient cave system. Some sections were 15 feet high, and wide enough for four of us to walk abreast; some were only large enough to accommodate one of us as long as we slithered on the ground. We emerged, out into the blinding sunlight, covered in chalky limestone residue, and then headed over to a small tent for a quick “debriefing”. Then, everyone, back on the bus, we drove north to the coast of the Sea of Galilee where we would be staying on a kibbutz.

Mosaic at Zippori

Christmas tree made out of recycled plastic bottles

Ugly gavril

Underneath the washing machine (left) is a secret entrance to the bullet factory down below.

Going down into the bullet factory by way of a different secret entrance underneath the oven

Me with the two chief firemen

Here's Carrie and the stuff we donated to the fire company (on the table)

Our tour group with the firemen in the Rishon Litzion company

Going into the caves

Me with a soldier...they're all over the place here in Israel...and all carrying their machine guns

The Next Adventure Begins...

Time/Date: 1:00 pm 12/18/10

Place: Home, Yardley Pa

Yesterday marked my final day in the Pennsbury School District before we pack up our bags (and house) and trek off to Israel and Southern Europe, including the countries Greece, Italy and Spain. Plagued by many tearful goodbyes and much sadness and despair, yesterday was a day of revelation. After all our planning and all of our angst and stress and sheer waiting, it was actually happening. Far be it for me to lie and say that I was totally prepared. Despite Mom's constant nagging to begin getting ready, Friday the 17th of December hit me like a brick wall. Only two days prior had I actually started any packing at all, and that was the first of my moments. A moment when all the jokes, all the waiting, all the research all came together to form one moment of supreme awesomeness. A moment when you realize: this is no longer a joke, the waiting is over, the hours of toil and endless work and research have finally paid off.


But now, if I cut the "philosophicality", I must say, that it does not concern me in the slightest to leave my drab and redundant life in suburban Pennsylvania for a quick adventure. I also feel it necessary to answer the one question that I have been asked more than any other. No, it is not, "Are you excited?", although I am if you were wondering. No, the one word I have heard more than any other is, "Why?" Even though I doubt it will slow my bombardment by the question, I would still like to put an answer out there, so here it is:


Back in early December of 2005, my mother, my father, my younger sister, Ellie, and I (all of whom you can be sure you'll hear more about), rented out our house, quit our jobs, and schlepped off to the tiny Central American country of Costa Rica. Despite only having planned to stay for 7 months, we ended up staying a full year. The experiences I had in Costa Rica (at the ages of 7 and 8), were monumental and life-changing. They made me the man I am today (at age 12). (By the way, my father also wrote a blog during our stay in Costa Rica [travelblog.org/bloggers/thebortmans] and is also keeping one now [thebortmans.blogspot.com])

Now, 4 years later, we have been itching to get back off the beaten trail. We plan to first go to Tel Aviv, and much of the rest of Israel, where we will stay for about two weeks. From there, we are flying to Athens and touring Greece (including the island of Crete). Then hopping back on a plane for Italy where we plan to take in all the sights, including, Rome, the Vatican, Pisa, Venice, Florence and Sienna. The last of which we plan to stay at for about a month, but after that, we're back in the air. We will touch down in Barcelona, and stay there for a couple of days until our Spanish friends come and pick us up. What friends could we possibly have in Spain?, you may ask. Well, in the 3 years prior, we have had different exchange students, the first two of which were brothers. When they heard we were traveling to Spain, they insisted that we stay with them in Valencia, so that is what we plan to do for the final three weeks of our expedition. This time also encompasses the Valencian festival of Fallas, for which I look forward to eagerly.

Time: 10;15 pm 12/18/10

Place: Philadelphia International Airport

We left our home about twenty minutes behind schedule and a close friend of ours trucked us off to the airport. Upon arrival, we checked our bags, passed through security and settled down for the long wait in one of the airport's innumerable waiting rooms which precedes all flights. Although dull and boring this wait was at least a little change from the others. About forty-five minutes to an hour into out monotony, we had to, since we were traveling to Israel, go through a second security outpost. And then, hey! What do you know, another waiting room!

The subsequent boarding of our flight was delayed by twenty or thirty minutes because “the caterers had not yet finished catering the airplane”. Like it would make a difference either way, airplane food always tastes the same.

Just now, we have reached our cruising altitude and the pilot has turned off the fasten seat-belt and no electronic devices signs, so I guess I'm free to move about the cabin and turn on electrical devices. Now I hope to drift off to sleep for a while.  It's a ten hour plane ride, so I bid you “Shalom”, and good-night.

That's our flight to Tel Aviv!

Hanging out at the airport with Nana and Pop-pop -  in the SECOND waiting room