(Note: The whole 7 hour time difference made it confusing. Did landing in Israel count as Day 1 or Day 2? For argument’s sake I’m going to say it was Day 2.)
The one story I always heard from the Duckman’s birthright trip was that on the plane there were no movies to choose from. He was so bored he watched The Simpsons Movie 3 times. Seriously. He told me that story atleast 5 times. I don’t know why. I still don’t know why.
Well my flight had a pretty decent selection of Netflix-quality movies. Since I couldn’t sleep I ended up watching all the movies I never wanted to watch. Like Tropic Thunder. Possibly the crappiest movie Ben Stiller has ever made. I know that is a bold claim, since Ben Stiller has the Midas Touch of crappy films. Yet I stand by it.
And of course just as I feared, there were Hassidim dancing at the airport when we landed. I avoided them though, surviving my first Jewish dance attack while on the Holy Land. Chicky: 1, Israel: 0. If I’m gonna be dancing on this trip it will be at a club in Tel Aviv. Grinding and terribly typical club dance music.
We made our way to some swanky ‘kibbutz’ outside Jerusalem. Not that kibbutzes really exist anymore. They are as hard to find as a good, 80s style stache. The kibbutz was really a glorified community-hotel where birthright participants are barreled through each year. It fit my rich American sensibilities quite well.
Only 1 American flag? I don't feel safe here…
I attempted to fall asleep to Israeli basketball on the t.v. Somehow I found befitting that a country full of Jews would love basketball so much. Even if most of the players were from America. It is our sport after all (‘our’ being ancient white Jews).
