Animal stories from Mt. Carmel and Athens

Animal Stories from Mt. Carmel and Athens: (Especially for Teo, Stevie and Pablo) The Raven of Mt. Carmel: On our last day in Israel, Grandpa and I drove from Nariyya, a dear little city on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea in the North of Israel, south through the big city of Haifa. Haifa is built by the sea, too, but just inland from the sea is Mount Carmel, the mountain where Elijah invited the prophets of the false God, Baal, to show the Israelites how strong Baal was. Of course, Baal didn't answer those prophets when they called him, and so Elijah said it was his turn. As you remember, he prayed a quiet prayer, and God answered with a bolt of fire so strong it burned up all the stones of the altar and licked up the water around the altar. Amazingly, after that Elijah got frightened and discouraged and went and hid by a brook where the only food he had was some bread that a raven brought him every day. (The National Park on Mt. Carmel) Well, Grandpa and I drove up to the top of Mount Carmel and found a little park with picnic tables. We had some food with us, and so we ate our lunch there and thought about Elijah. When we were finished, we had several pieces of pita bread left, and we knew we would not be able to take it with us on the plane, so I suggested we give it to the birds. We scattered some crumbs around and then Grandpa took a whole round pita loaf and sailed it like a Frisbee over the cliff and into the woods. I said, "I think that's good to repay the ravens for bringing bread to Elijah." Just then from the exact place in the woods where the bread had gone, we heard a raven cry, "Caw-caw! Caw-caw!" That was the only raven call we heard, and it seemed like he was saying, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you for the bread!" The Dogs of Syntagma Square: Grandpa and I arrived in Athens on Friday and went to our wonderful hotel where we have a sliding glass door with a balcony that looks out over the city to the sea and to the Acropolis. (The Acropolis is a rocky hill with some very beautiful, ancient and famous buildings on top of it.) We sat on our balcony watching the sun go down, just mesmerized by the beauty. The moon came up and flood lights turned on, making the Acropolis look like an enchanted castle. Finally, we got hungry, and we decided to go outside and down some stairs to the subway, a very fast underground train. Within a few minutes, we were at the next station, and we got off at Syntagma Square. This is a large paved area with benches and trees near the parliament building. There are lovely statues on platforms with marble stairs leading to them. Nearby there are restaurants where you can sit outside and eat or get something to drink. As I climbed the stairs from the subway to this lovely Square, I saw a big dog lying at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. He was lying on his side, so limp that I thought he was dead. "How sad," I thought. And then I saw another dog, a black one, lying on his side at the top of the stairs. "What's going on??!!" I wondered. Do people bring their dead pets here? I looked carefully at the two dogs and saw that they were breathing softly. They were just asleep – right in the middle of all the people coming and going. As I got to the top of the stairs, I saw a beautiful statue with steps leading to it and…Yes! You guessed it! There was another big dog, lying on his side, sound asleep on one of the steps. As I looked around, I saw more dogs, all lying on their sides, taking wonderful naps in Syntagma Square. Grandpa and I walked across to the far side of the Square to cross a busy street so we could find a restaurant. Suddenly, here came a middle sized Terrier-type dog with a red collar and big smile under his mustache. He sneaked up behind the lady in front of us and sniffed all around her tote bag. All at once he leaped around her and into the street. I gave a little shriek because cars were racing by, and I was sure he was going to be struck. He roared fiercely and jumped at the front fender of a yellow taxi. The taxi didn't even pause as it zoomed past with the dog running beside it. As soon as the taxi had been chased away, the dog stepped back onto the curb and waited patiently for the light to change, smiling with satisfaction that he had done his duty well. But, oh no! Here came another yellow taxi, and he sprang into action, roaring fiercely, jumping at the front fender, chasing it off into the darkness. Back he climbed onto the curb, happily smiling as other cars hurried past. Ay-yi-yi! Another yellow taxi! Into the street he bravely leaped again, risking his life to protect us all, chasing the enemy into the night. He waited for the light to change, and then trotted across the street and off on some adventure. Grandpa and I strolled on. The evening was enchanting. The temperature was just right, and the air felt like silk on our skin. Someone was playing beautiful music on an accordion. We found a little sidewalk café and ate Greek salad and delicious bread. After supper, we walked on and found an ancient church, an artist painting on pottery, and a man playing his guitar and singing American folk songs. Finally, we started back. When we came to Syntagma Square, it was after 11 o'clock, but there were dozens of boys skating in one part of the Square and…what was I seeing!?! All the sleeping dogs had waked up from their naps and they were trotting happily around among the boys, as though they were pretending to be skating, too. All at once, out of nowhere, came the little taxi-chasing terrier. He wove through the skating boys, barking, and then shot off through the park with all the other dogs following him. We watched as the line of dogs streaked past us and out of the Square, all barking like crazy. Daddy thought the dogs were chasing the Terrier away, but I thought he might be the leader, guiding them to some new mischief he had discovered. When the dogs had disappeared, we heard some barks from the park. There was the black dog, too old and tired to join the chase, but wanting to be part of it anyway. We walked toward him, and noticed that he had found someone's bottle of water. He was walking along with the top of it in his mouth, the rest sticking out to the side, so that whenever he wanted a drink, he just tipped his head and the water would flow into his mouth. He had a red collar, too. Who owned these dogs? Who was taking care of them? It's a mystery. The mystery of the dogs of Syntagma Square.

From Tell es-Safi to Tiberius

Tomorrow, Wednesday, we continue our exploration of northern Israel. However, before we pack up and move on from the Eden Hotel in Tiberias beside Lake Kinneret (Sea of Galilee), Vonnie and I want to share a few photos. (one photo is from our window overlooking Tiberias and the lake.)

There’s another photo of our dig site (Area E) under the awning. Just wanted not to forget our four weeks there. And there are two photos of me having the privilege of slinging a stone over the Elah Valley where David met Goliath.

In review, we enjoyed our Sabbath morning at Advent House, Jerusalem, where I was invited to preach. We visited the Shrine of the Book, dedicated to the Dead Sea Scrolls, that afternoon. And the next morning, we packed our little car with luggage for three and two additional people!

Lotte and Joshua toured with us to modern and ancient Jericho, Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were used and then hidden, and then up the Jordan River Valley to Lake Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) and the main town there, Tiberias. Both Lotte and Joshua had dug with us at Tell es-Safi, and both went on that same evening: Lotte to Haifa and more education; Joshua back to Jerusalem, and soon on to the USA. Dear, treasured people. We miss them already. (photos will follow later.)

One adventure on the road was when we came to the Israeli checkpoint as we left the West Bank, occupied in 1967, and entered northern Israel, carved out during the war of independence in 1948. Something about this quartet made the guards uneasy, so they had us park the car for inspection, get out ourselves and all our carefully packed luggage. Then everything went through x-ray or metal-detection machines, including us. All this while they looked in every nook and cranny in and under the car. It was a thorough inspection indeed, although I’ve read of far worse. (no photos here!)

On Monday we explored both Cana and Nazareth, neighboring cities. When we finally located the YMCA, we made appointments to return this morning for the Nazareth Village tour. (One of our photos is of modern Nazareth, and four are from the Village recreation.)

This afternoon, we drove completely around Lake Kinneret / Sea of Galilee. Now I’m wondering how closely this sea and Lake Tahoe in California compare in surface area. I’m thinking this is larger.

We stumbled on a wonderful archaeological dig and recreation area near the mouth of the River Jordan as it comes into Lake Kinneret. The site is identified as Bethsaida, where Jesus healed a blind man. And it was also the home of several disciples. John 1:44 “Now Philip was from Bethsaida, of the city of Andrew and Peter.” We truly enjoyed our time, alone on the dig-site with time to meditate and pray. (Several photos are from here.)

Then we went down to the Jordan River and discovered a quiet place to sit and doze off in the shade. It is obviously a favorite spot for hundreds of families. Some holidays or weekends, it must seem like a city of 5,000, hungry for bread and fish! Our time there was extremely slow and therefore delightful. (some photos here, too.)

Our final stop before supper was to a Greek Orthodox church from the 1920s, dedicated to the memory of the paralyzed man let down through the roof to be healed by Jesus. It turned out to be a wonderfully maintained and green few acres on the shore of Galilee, just yards away from ancient Capernaum. The Greek priest spoke good English and welcomed us into his church. He told us of his doubts that the “Bethsaida” we visited was the one Jesus knew. He believes another site, now in private ownership, is much closer to the lake shore and much more likely to have been the real place. So the arguments go! It was a very special stop. (this is the last photo.)

Farewell to Tell es-Safi/Gath

The new gateway spire over West Jerusalem


As I type, it is Saturday night in Jerusalem and Vonnie and I have just had a wonderful Sabbath. It's hard to believe that I had the privilege of sharing a few thoughts at Advent House this morning for the English congregation. The President of the Israel Field, Elder Elofer, was with me on the platform, just hours before he and his wife would fly off to three meetings in both North and South America.

After a lovely luncheon, Vonnie and I drove in our rental car to the Israel Museum and the Shrine of the Book. There we had the great privilege of seeing several chapters of the original scroll of Isaiah found in a cave above Qumran, one of the Dead Sea Scrolls found in 1947. No cameras were allowed, so it will just be stories from us.

Let's go back to Tell es-Safi, however. Friday was the last day for any activity. A large helium balloon provided a platform for the remote control camera and last pictures were taken. It was a blessing from God that everything went as scheduled, for we arrived in Jerusalem earlier than planned, and were able to get our rental car before they closed for Sabbath!

But it was hard to say good-bye to our new friends from around the world. Will we see them again? We had many invitations to return, including from the director, Aren Maeir. It would take some special planning to make that happen, and at this time seems unlikely. But . . .

On the last day of the dig at Area E, our Early Bronze excavations allowed an amazing find to be preserved. The previous week, some bones were discovered to be "articulated", meaning they were connected to other bones in the right places. At first our leader thought it would prove to be a pig, a big wild boar from 4,500 - 5,000 years ago. Then some teeth were discovered that indicated it was a herbivore, so it seemed it might be a big sheep. Only when the zoologist arrived on the last day of excavation did he reveal that it was from the horse family, or the equid family. Microscopic analysis will reveal whether it was really a horse, a wild ass, or a donkey.

Apparently horses were just being domesticated and ridden on the steppes of Russia at this early time. In fact, horses don't show up in Egypt (what? no chariots?) until 200 years later!

One of the curiosities that will be explored and reported is whether this burial has any relationship with other finds of ancient horses/asses/donkeys in the Levant. What does it mean? Why would someone bury this animal? Did they normally eat any such animals, but bury this one whole? Why was it arranged in death as it was?

Archaeology is full of mysteries and hypotheses. It was always fun to listen in on discussions of what this or that means.

For the whole tell, this was an interesting but minor find. Much more within the target of the dig were the finds of wonderful pottery untouched since the buildings were destroyed during the Iron Age, during the time of some of King David's descendents.

2 Kings 12:17 Then Hazael king of Aram went up and fought against Gath and captured it, and Hazael set his face to go up to Jerusalem. 18 And Jehoash king of Judah took all the sacred things that Jehoshaphat and Jehoram and Ahaziah, his fathers, kings of Judah, had dedicated, and his own sacred things and all the gold that was found among the treasuries of the house of the LORD and of the king's house, and sent them to Hazael king of Aram. Then he went away from Jerusalem.

Sunday we drive to Jericho, Qumran, and Lake Kinnerett (Sea of Galilee). And many from Milton and BMV Churches are enjoying the Church Campout at Camp Elkanah. We will all have stories to share!

Brief Note from Revadim

Heather told me people were noticing our "absence" from the blog - just as Israel was more in the news than usual. Well, we are fine, but terribly pressed for time. I'm writing this at midnight, and must wake up at 4:45 for this week's last day on the dig. And then it's back to Jerusalem for another weekend of adventures.

Today was a big day on the dig as Area D (we are working in Area E) uncovered many wonderful pots and bowls, including one with metal tools inside from the time of David and Solomon. Wow, was everybody excited.

And we've had a good week in Area E as well, much earlier in the Early Bronze Age, about when the pyramids were being built. Vonnie and Erika both found little pieces of metal, like needles. We've heard that Vonnie's was not bronze, but was probably copper. First time metal has been discovered at this early level of Tell es-Safi.

Last weekend, our greatest adventure was wading through Hezekiah's water tunnel, and seeing the uncovered remains of the Pool of Siloam where Jesus did his famous healing.

Now I must run get a few hours of sleep. We pray for so many of you and recognize that God is keeping His loving hand on each one.

Two Weeks of Digging

Here's a photo from Wednesday, July 16. We are just at the end of our dig day with lunch and pottery washing to follow. Actually with a shower and a long nap to follow the washing, too.
I had one of our dig partners take this photo so we could share it with the on-line readers of Biblical Archaeology Review (BAR). Why? Because we were the blessed recipients of a dig scholarship from BAR's parent organization, the Biblical Archaeology Society (BAS). They covered 1/3 of the cost of volunteering at Tel es-Safi.


It has been an amazing time. We have learned so very much by actually being on the site and participating in the process. Sometimes as we scrape away, or brush up the last dust in our work area, an advanced class will be taking place and Vonnie or I will be able to listen in to the technical discussions. And in the evenings, we have lectures on archaeology. Last night we listened to the doyenne (the grand lady) of Philistine archaeology. 89 year old Trude Dothan (pronounced truduh dotawn) shared what she had learned at Tell Miqne/Ekron years ago, a site actually on the property of Kibbutz Revadim.

We are feeling much more "in shape" this second week, but perhaps taking a few extra naps is part of the cause. Or perhaps we really are adapting physically.

During the last two days I have found two mysteries (that piece of decorated pottery in the first photo is one of them.) and worked on solving the puzzle. (Archaeology is FULL of mysteries.) While digging down in two different places, I have discovered pottery that "shouldn't" be there. Late Bronze Age pottery should not appear in Early Bronze Age levels! So, I've been digging and cleaning to help the professionals look for a garbage pit and a foundation trench, dug during the Late Bronze Age period, that would have allowed LB pottery to reach EB levels.

Vonnie has been working on an alley (three feet wide) and sifting her diggings looking for whatever people threw out onto the "street". Sometimes she finds nothing. Other times she finds tiny fragments of flint, shell, bone, and of course pottery.

Today, in a locus (a small dig area) that I had previously lowered, our German volunteer discovered several pieces of pottery that had broken and been buried together. They even got the official photographer to capture it. Finds are really the luck of the draw!

Tomorrow we return to Jerusalem. Vonnie asked me to let you see the inside of Hotel Hashemi so you could imagine us upstairs above the Suq Khan al-Zeit (the narrow market place that follows the ancient central street of Roman times, the Cardo.) The photo was created using Autostitch demo and has some distortion, but it sure captures the drama.

Now I must run find Vonnie for tonight's dinner!

People who have touched our lives: Benzi

Benzi:  Many of the people at this dig are young Jewish University students.  They are astonishing in their beauty, brilliance, and character.  We have been deeply impressed.  One of the young men on our team in Area E is called Benzi – short for a name that means "Son of Zion".   He has dark curly hair cut in a way that makes it curl up around his skull cap and form a halo around his beautiful, gentle face.  He reminds me of someone who could play the part of the beloved disciple John in a Biblical movie.  He and Daddy were assigned to be partners, and they worked together most of the week, enjoying wonderful talks while they moved loads and loads of dirt. On Friday morning, Itsak, our area supervisor, came in his quiet way and invited us to a "short break".  We all gathered around him, and he said he wanted to thank the students who were completing their assignment and would be leaving us, and to thank them, he said, we were going to have cake.  We sat down in the dirt, broke the cake into pieces, and ate together.  Benzi spoke up and said, "I had a dream."  Everyone wanted to know what he had dreamed and so he began, "I dreamed that Ole and I were digging in our square and we hit something that sounded like wood.  We worked and worked trying to dig it out.  We were so excited, we didn't even go to breakfast.  It took a long time to get it dug out, and when we finally did, it was a treasure chest!  Itsak told everyone to gather around while we opened it.  That took some doing, too, because the lock was…" he paused, looking for the right word in English, "Frozen!" "Rusty" Stuck!" everyone suggested, wanting him to get on with the story.  "Yes," he said.  "We finally got it open…."  Long pause.  "What was in it?" (Many voices.)  Benzi took a long breath, "It was empty." "Oh,h,h,h,h,h,h…" (Unison groan.)  "But", Benzi brightened.  "There was a note inside that said that the real treasure…."  (Another pause.)  "was the friendship we have found as we have worked together."  And everyone burst into applause.  This week we are missing Benzi  and the others who went home.

People who have touched our lives: Ana

Stories of People who have Touched our Lives:   Ana:   Daddy and I went to the little Post Office here at the Kibbutz to mail some postcards to you.  There is a little red-haired lady who is in her seventies who runs it.  You know how Daddy is, he asked her about some photos she had on the wall, and she told him about them.  Then she said, "You come sit down.  I have story to tell you.  Story about me."  And she pulled up some chairs for us close to her desk. "I grew up in Bosnia," she told us.  "We were very happy there, but when the war started, we knew we were in danger.  (Of course she was talking about World War II and Hitler's plan to destroy all the Jewish people.)  "I was 11and a half when the soldiers came to our town.  I had a little friend I played with who was from a Catholic family, and she begged her mother and father to try to save me.  Those brave, good people thought of a way.  "There was a Catholic orphanage in our town, and they took me there with my sister who was 8.  They gave us new names and a new identity.  We had to learn a story about our parents who, supposedly, were Catholic and were from another town and had different names and had been killed.  They told me that I was responsible for my little sister.  I had to help her remember not to tell the truth or call me by my real name.  They told me that if she was sad, I would need to comfort her so she wouldn't cry.  I remember wondering what if I were sad.  Who would comfort me so I wouldn't cry.  These kind people thought of a way to save my mother, too.  They made her a kitchen worker in another orphanage, and finally, they were able to give her a "transfer position", and she became a nursery worker who took care of the children in our orphanage – so she was caring for us!!  But no word of recognition, no hugs, no special treatment.  We had to pretend she was just a caretaker that we didn't know, but, at least, she could see that we were safe and well, and we had her near taking care of us!  These kind people were not able to save my father, though, he was taken off the street and sent to Auschwitz.  He may still be alive, but I never heard from him again.  But the reason I wanted to tell you this story, is that I think when you go to Jerusalem you will go to the Holocaust Museum there.  In one area, they have children's playthings displayed.  When I was in this orphanage, I decided to make a set of playing cards to play gin rummy.  I wasn't artistic at all, but for some reason, I decided to decorate each card in a different way.  I was able to keep those cards, and now they are displayed in the museum." Daddy and I were both very moved by her story, and we hope to go see her cards at the museum next Sunday wen we go back to Jerusalem.  We figured out that she is just exactly Uncle Merrel's age.

Stories from Israel

Since it's been several days since I've written to you, I have many stories to tell you again.  Don't feel bad if you have to read them a few at a time. Surprising sounds:  Last Wednesday morning, not too long after sunrise, our group was hard at work in our Bronze Age dirt.  I had gone to the bottom of our area to get my bottle of water from Daddy's backpack and was just stepping back under the sunshade when I heard a deafening roar like an enormous explosion.  The noise didn't stop but kept on roaring.  I looked back over my shoulder, and saw a white cloud, kind of like a mushroom cloud, rising from behind the hills that form our horizon.  It kept getting bigger and bigger with frightening speed.  I looked at the others, and everyone was frozen.  Daddy asked, "Do you know what that is?"  "We have no experience with anything like this."  Daddy was the first one to venture a guess:  "Oh, the Israeli military is testing a sustained missile.  They fire it into the ground and test how long it keeps exploding underground."  No one else had a better idea, so we all decided he must be right.  Finally, the noise stopped, and eventually the cloud dissipated.  We had heard on the news the day before that Iran had tested a missile that could reach Israel, so we imagined that this was Israel's answer. Later, Daddy and I were walking around our hill to the breakfast area when we heard another roar.  The roaring went on and on, but it was a very different sound than the missile roar.  At first I thought it was a motorcycle revving its engine to get unstuck from mud, but then I realized it was some kind of animal in distress.  I could not imagine what could be making such a huge, strange noise – like an elephant or a dinosaur roaring or 100 donkeys braying at once.  As we came around a bend, we saw the noise:  a baby camel crying its head off and trying to get away from the post where some Bedouin men were struggling to tie it up.  Finally, the men got it secured and gave it something to eat, but it kept crying every now and then – almost like it was calling for its mama.  After everyone left it alone and we all went into the breakfast tent, the baby stopped crying and lay down.  Several times throughout breakfast, it would start crying again.  We had to finally go back to work, and I never did hear where it had come from or where it went.  It disappeared.  I suppose the Bedouin men knew what to do with it and took it to its mama.

“Jerusalem Below”

Galatians 4:25 26 "But the Jerusalem above is free; she is our mother."

Back from our first weekend in Jerusalem, we can testify that the Jerusalem below is definitely not “free”. Of course I’m making a pun with what Paul wrote; he was not writing about financial cost. Whether the two kinds of freedom are linked or not can be debated, but we got another dose of what it means to be a tourist, and it reinforced how valuable the tourist season is to those who live in the Old City of Jerusalem.

We will never forget our visit. It started rather shockingly! We finished working on Tel es-Safi/Gath around the usual 1 pm, and were told our bus that takes us to and fro would wait around 20 minutes and take us on to the local bus stop if we wanted. 20 minutes! We had to finish storing our suitcases, put on something a little cleaner than our dig clothes, and make it to the bus. No way for a shower. “That’s how we travel in Israel. There will be showers in Jerusalem.”

So we arrived in Jerusalem, dirty, tired (let me emphasize TIRED) and got off the bus at the entrance to the “Wailing Wall”. With directions from our friend Jonathan (pronounced Yonatawn) we found our way into East Jerusalem and onto our first street. There we asked for directions and a young man said he would guide us.

And sure enough he did. Right to the door of Hashemi Hotel. And then he wanted 100 Shekels (around $30.00. This time we said NO. We paid him a few shekels and went into the hotel, but he was angry with us.

This hotel is run by devout Muslims who post signs everywhere stating that there will be no smoking in the rooms, no alcohol on the premises, and no unmarried couples allowed in a room together. We had to show our passports to prove we had the same last name (a marriage certificate would be helpful if a couple chooses to keep different last names!) and, when we said we had been married 38 years, they promised us the “honeymoon” room.

As plain and simple as it was, it was the perfect retreat for two exhausted, first time “archaeologists.” And the rest of the hotel had some wonderful features. Best of all was a roof-top with a view of the lower city. Wow!

We were amazed to watch Orthodox and Hasidic Jewish families streaming through the Old City to the “Shabbat” services at the Wall. We were so hungry we didn’t join them until they were streaming back, or stopping to perform Shabbat dances (men only) at an intersection. It was night when we made it back to the Wall and read the Shabbat rules that forbid photography.

We have learned from personal conversations with Jonathan, from signs posted on the Wall Square, and also from paintings we saw the next day, that one of the oft-repeated prayers at the Wall is that God will open the way to rebuild a third temple. There is even a Temple Institute whose mission is to have all the particulars in readiness, including priests who are themselves ritually pure, to start the services. This event may yet happen, although no one can calculate the cost if Islam were brought to the place where they were to abandon their third holiest site. A greater miracle would find a way to let both faiths have their holy places on Mount Moriah.

Sabbath morning started rather late, I can assure you. We ended up visiting the “Garden Tomb”, which is a delightful place to meditate on Jesus’ death and resurrection, and also the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which has so many layers of religious practice and even property-line conflicts, that it takes real imagination to see past the crowds and ornate structure. But even there we found a small corner and read the Matthew version of Jesus’ death and resurrection. And we were moved. We will treasure our time “alone” on that Sabbath morning.

We ended the day walking most of the Via Dolorosa backwards (this is the traditional route Jesus took from condemnation to crucifixion) and out the Lion’s Gate (or St. Stephen’s Gate) on the Kidron Valley side of the city. We passed the Garden of Gethsemane (closed by this time) and walked up toward the Mt. of Olives ridge. We watched, and photographed, the sunset setting behind Islam’s Dome of the Rock, and the lights start coming on in the city, before walking back to our hotel.

(Sunday evening, back in Revadim, we learned that two policemen were attacked at the Lion’s Gate on Friday evening. The prognosis is good for only one of them. There are unimaginable levels of pain throughout the populations in Israel, the West Bank and beyond, and still many display the most wonderful hospitality.)

On Sunday we did some shopping. My, Oh my! Suffice it to say that bargaining is not my forte, and there will be stories to share. It was almost indescribable, but it will be fun trying someday.

We actually, finally, found our city bus and got to the main station, and then got right on a bus that dropped us off at the Revadim stop. And a kind driver took us the last distance to our headquarters. And we both slept well last night before our early morning start to week two at Tel es-Safi/Gath.

Taking a Break

Life at Kibbutz Revadim and dig-site, Tel es-Safi, is SO full and busy that we are running out of time! But it is going so very well.

Today we dug from 6 am to 1 pm (as usual), then washed pottery (as usual), and then had a field trip to Askelon (Asquelon), and then had an end-of-week BBQ with the team, and now must get all our belongings packed for storage over the weekend, or to take with us on our trip to Jerusalem Friday night. Plus we need some sleep before wake up at 4:30 (as usual) or sooner.

We have decided on this first weekend to Jerusalem not to take our computers, so if we communicate, it will be at someone else's computer. Perhaps we'll discover we need to have one along but this first time, we'll go light.

We probably won't be posting anything more until next week. Bear with us as we learn how to navigate this busy month.

Blessings on all,

Ole

Life on the Kibbutz and the Tel

Yes, we are having the same sense of awe, mentioned in your comments, as we touch the pottery that someone used 4500 years ago! Today I was chipping away the mudbrick that surrounds the stones of the short wall in the area where I'm working, and I was wondering about the person who built this wall so many thousands of years ago. Was he a young married man building it for his bride, or was he one of the city fathers improving a common area where people came to grind their grain. I felt sad to be undoing his work. I didn't find anything of significance today, but Lauren and Zvi found a complete jug big enough to hold about a gallon of milk next to a stone oven they had been excavating. It had been tipped over, and the top was slanted down, but even the handles were intact. Inside the jar they found a lot of organic matter that they guessed might be wheat or barley--unrecognizable after all these thousands of years. Lauren and Zvi are on our team of eleven that is working on area E. (Lauren is a precious, earnest young Jewish girl from Philadelphia and Zvi is a local dairy farmer who just comes to help because he is fascinated. He grew up and farmed in Ohio until 1959 when he and his wife moved to Israel. Our claim to fame now is that we have an alley running through our site, and they have brought in a special archaeologist to work with us as we begin to excavate it. The reason they are taking such care with the alley is that they imagine people threw their garbage out there, and we will find lots of interesting things packed in there.

I must tell you that the leaders are doing everything possible to keep us safe and well. They have erected huge black sunscreen canopies over our work sites that help enormously to keep us out of the sun. Every half hour they enforce a break to drink water. This afternoon for the first time, we had to do pottery washing. Each piece is placed in a box that corresponds to the area where it was found. The leaders look over each box for anything that might be significant. I was happy to see that they were excited about my rim because it had some primitive looking letters drawn in the clay before it hardened. It looked to me like an M and a Hebrew G. I said it stood for Mrs. Goliath, but of course, Goliath wouldn't be born for many centuries after that jug was used.

I found out, too, why there are some meals when we don't have butter for our bread. Ole's rabbinical student roommate has been educating us. We are being served kosher meals, and dairy products and meat cannot be mixed. When meat is served, we have no butter and no milk for tea or coffee. He also pointed out that when we have dairy products we have blue trays and white dishes with blue designs on them. When we have meat meals, we have brown trays and plain white dishes. The silverware for the dairy meals has a hole punched in the end of the handle to assure the eater that this silverware has never been used for meat. So interesting.

Well, it's time for our lecture. Tonight we are listening to the archaeologist who will be helping us with our alley. He is teaching us how to deal with bones we find -- because they are expecting to find lots of bones in our alley. I'd better go pay attention!

First days at Tel es-Safi

Is it possible? Thursday is about to begin? It's just 5 am, and we must be on the bus in 20 minutes. And last evening Jonathan (Yonathan) and I stayed up till 10:30 discussing Jewish halakic (sp?) laws (clean and unclean).


My battery recharger is not working through the 220 adapter, so I'm not getting many photos, but here are a couple from our first days. And Oh my! They have been full! What with early morning digs, afternoon and evening lectures, and already one field trip, there's barely time to keep up with everything. We are thoroughly enjoying it, however.

They have assigned Vonnie and me to work in Area E where they have excavated for 8 previous seasons. We are digging down into what is called the Early Bronze period, at the same time as the pyramids were being built. So when we dig up the rim of a pot, as Vonnie did, we think about the fact that it has been buried for around 5,000 years! Before even Abraham! For "newbies" like us, that's impressive.

Our field trip took us to Samson's hometown. And to the town, Beth Shemesh, where the Ark of the Covenant came home, pulled by two cows, after destroying the Philistine idol of Dagon. Most impressive.

Well, I must run. God be with you all.

Dead Sea Float, Masada and Tel es-Safi

Hello to everybody! As the photos show, Vonnie and I have enjoyed floating on the dead sea and also visiting Masada, only twenty minutes away.

It is true, what they report, that it is almost impossible to sink in the Dead Sea. It is so dense with salts (not just table salt) that it's like wearing floaters all over one's body - or like wearing a wet suit without a lead-belt to counter the bouyancy.

It also surprised us by being so warm, and so softening to the skin. Vonnie described it as being in a giant hot-tub with bath salts. It was good to have fresh-water showers waiting by the sea shore and then to relax on the lounge chairs. Truly the most restful we've been on our trip.

The next morning we hired a driver, recommended by the hotel, to take us to Masada and Jerusalem. However, when he inquired further about where Kibbutz Revadim is, he offered to take us there instead of Jerusalem for only a little more money. So that's what we did.

We spent 2 hours at Masada, the Herodian palace fort used as a last-stand by the Jewish rebels of AD (CE) 68-73. A few hundred of the rebel soldiers held out with their families and other refugees for almost two years until Romans breached the walls. Rent the movie and get a Hollywood version. It is truly an astonishing place up on the high bluff. We took the gondola for speed instead of climbing the "Snake Path" that winds up to the gate. And then we went through their new museum. It was a wonderful presentation.

From there our driver took us back past our hotel at the Dead Sea, up into the Negev, past his Bedouin village where he has his estate. (Apparently a very nice property.) And then we went directly to Kibbutz Revdim.

We toured the dig last night and started cleaning our sites for excavation this morning. More on this later. But for now, know we are well and digging in (pun intended) to Israel.

At the Dead Sea

Aqaba to Dead Sea, Israel

Happy Sabbath – and Happy 4^th of July! By the time it gets this dark in the USA, the fireworks will be lighting the hearts of all who treasure our American freedoms. What a great privilege it is to live under a constitution that has made our country unique for over 232 years.

Tonight we are in the Tulip Inn, 150’ above the Dead Sea. We watched the sun linger on the high, desert bluffs above us, and on the mountains of Jordan that we visited a week ago. Then we joined all the families in the dinning room, many of whom were welcoming the Sabbath with special ceremonies.

As we ate a few more slices of fresh watermelon, Vonnie commented that at least we had watermelon on the 4^th of July!

Our trip was blessed of God. Between sewing Vonnie’s hat back together, or trying (and failing) to repair the telescoping handle on my suitcase, we didn’t leave Aqaba until noon.

All the room cleaners in Jordan are male, and you’ll notice the young Egyptian who surprised us with towels folded up into swans and a heart after we came back from breakfast.

Our taxi driver took us to the border where we paid our exit tax, and then walked ourselves and our luggage across what felt like “no-man’s-land” to the Israeli border checks.

I should mention that our driver, upon discovering we were Americans, gave it his best shot at influencing our vote in the upcoming USA elections. His was a parting political comment echoing many in Jordan, saying the common people of all countries, including Israel, Palestine, Egypt and America could be friends, sit down and drink tea together. It’s just the kings of those countries that want to make war. (So very interesting to see how our nation’s leaders influence even the common people.)

When our passports were about to be stamped with an Israeli visa (free in Israel), I remembered to ask for a visa on a separate piece of paper. This way the doors remain open for us to visit Islamic nations in the future (?) whereas the Israeli visa in the passport guarantees hassles or rejection. Pastor David Cox, teaching in Amman from Union headquarters in Beirut, made it clear how hard it had been for him to do his work in Muslim countries with Israeli visas in his passport from years before.

When we finished processing at Israeli Customs, a new taxi driver took us first to a bank ATM for Israeli shekels, and then to the bus station. He told us he was afraid we wouldn’t be able to go to the Dead Sea by bus because it was the Preparation for the Sabbath and buses don’t run in the afternoon. It was almost 2:00 pm. By God’s grace we were on time! Barely! But we were able to jump on the last bus nevertheless. The bus was full, and most were headed to Jerusalem, but we got off by the hotels at the Dead Sea after a couple of hours going through the desert.

I must let Vonnie describe the driver who offered to take us to our hotel, only to be verbally confronted by the Israelis who recognized he was gouging us good. His response to them was classic!

Vonnie now:

Ole has turned this over to me to tell you a story that still has us chuckling. We had been riding the bus for several hours through the barren desert of the Negev when we came to the Dead Sea. Quite a little resort town has sprung up here by the water with Palm trees decorating the rows of hotels. We jumped off the bus, Ole pulled our luggage out of its belly, and it roared off.

Before we could blink, a taxi van drove up and its driver asked where we were going. “How much would it cost for you to drive us to the Tulip Inn?” Ole asked. “Thirty shekels,” the driver answered and started scooping up our luggage and throwing it into his taxi.

A beautiful young lady who was waiting at the bus stop stepped forward and asked, “Did he say ‘thirty shekels’?!” “I think so,” I answered. “How much should it be?” “Well, it’s only five minutes from here. I would think only five shekels!” she said loudly. And then all the people at the bus stop chimed in agreeing with her, expressing disgust that the taxi driver would cheat us so brazenly.

In between loads of luggage, the driver would hiss at them to be quiet and mind their own business, but they kept remonstrating with him to be fair with us. Suddenly the driver finished loading luggage and darted at the young girl saying, “Shut your mouth!” and then, with both hands motioning like jabbering mouths, he wove through the crowd, fingers in their faces, chanting, “Yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip, yip………..” until he had driven the young girl back to a seat on a bench and forced the others into silence. He pushed us into the taxi, leaped into the driver’s seat still yipping, and zoomed off. I noticed the people at the bus station were kind of grinning, so I guessed they weren’t too traumatized.

Finally, he was able to compose himself, catch his breath and explain, “Jewish people! Always have to talk, talk, talk, about how you should drive for free! Five shekels!!!! Let them do it for five shekels!! If you want to buy something from a Jewish person, the price will be high, but they want to buy from you for nothing!! They bring fifty people on a tour bus and want you to carry all their bags for free!!!!! For free!!!!! I say I will drive you. I will carry your bags, but if you don’t want to pay, carry them yourselves!!!!! “ And on and on he went, still fuming when he got to our hotel (truly only three minutes away.)

He grabbed our bags and had them all in the lobby before we could breathe twice. Suddenly, he was sweet as pie. If we should need a taxi to take us to Bethlehem, to Jerusalem, to Masada, etc., etc., …. here was his card. I asked him where he was from, and he said, “I am Bedouin. This is my land, my home.” He took our thirty shekels and drove off, and that was our introduction to Israel.

******

Well, Vonnie had to wake me up to finish this J. But it reminds me how impossible it would be to do this kind of log if we waited until the end of our three months. It’s hard enough day by day to put down a few vignettes!

Again, Shabbat Shalom, and Happy Independence Day.

PS Internet problems at the Tulip Inn must wait until Shabbat is over to be repaired. If you see this before Sunday, it is because we found an internet café or some such. I’ll also take this opportunity to mention the night photo, again from our balcony. It was the clearest we have witnessed the Dead Sea area, and one can easily see the Jordanian lights on the far shore. If you enlarge the photo, you can also see the dim lights up in the Jordanian mountains. We don’t know which city this might be, but we may well have been there a few days ago. Perhaps it is Madaba, near Mt. Nebo, and we were there.

Vonnie and I had a wonderful worship service this morning in our room after breakfast. Isaiah 58 was our source text. In the paraphrase we used this morning, Peterson wrote in one spot, “Quit blaming the victims”. Now there’s a challenging command, especially in the context of the everlasting Arab/Israeli conflict, but also in our day to day lives.

The Red Sea is BLUE

Get out your Bibles. Look up Ezion-geber. You'll find this is where Solomon launched his fleet to get the gold of Ophir. This is also where Jehoshaphat lost his fleet after a prophet told him he had made a wrong alliance. Ezion-geber is for all intents and purposes, Aqaba where we are! In two of the passages, it also lists Eloth (now Eilat, Israel, where we will go tomorrow.) And when the Israelites left Ezion-geber, they travelled through the wilderness of Zin, or Kadesh.

Well, it sure felt like we were traveling through some kind of wilderness on our way from Petra to Aqaba! Amazing formations in the distance and lots of trucks coming from the port. (I took some photos for Gaby.)

We extended our stay by one day so we could go snorkeling, and today was the day. As the pictures show, it is an amazing blue arm (gulf) of the Red Sea.

Yes, we both got in the water and both loved it. My mask didn't fit very comfortably, but in spite of looking like the great white whale, I enjoyed seeing the amazing schools of tiny fish. It was like swimming in a giant aquarium! And the coral formations were wonderful, too. One was a brilliant blue. With no underwater camera, you'll just have to believe me :-).

Just as much fun were the people on board our four hour cruise. One couple from Portugal, our age, were a delight. He spent 6 years at sea as an engineer and learned his English there. She stuck with Portuguese. Quite the travelers!

The rest of the group seemed to be from Israel, but were mostly Arabs / Palestinians instead of Jewish citizens. The young family in the last photo was from Nazareth and had driven to Aqaba in 5 hours. That's like driving to Tacoma from Milton-Freewater! Just shows how distances are different over here. They left 6-month-old twins at home with two grandmothers to care for them! Their mother is a special-ed teacher finding it really challenging to do her work at school AND have twins when she gets home in the evening.

The boat also had a glass bottom and took us over a sunken ship. Very intriguing. (Why do disasters fascinate us?)

One of the ship's crew pointed out a big Hilton Hotel on the far shore just on the Egyptian side of the Egypt/Israel border. And the mountains of Sinai extended on south.

One other story: Yesterday evening after a walk on the beach front, we spotted a barber and I decided to get my first sabbatical haircut. Vonnie returned to the room to try out the "sink and bathtub washing machine". My barber spoke little or no English but seemed to understand my wishes. However, he had one surprise for me. I watched curiously as he pulled off some thread from a spool and came toward my face. Suddenly he was uprooting extraneous hairs from my ears, around my eyebrows, between my eyebrows, and on my cheeks - defining my week-old beard. I still have no idea how he could use that thread to snag short, short hairs! I DO know that it HURT!

When an English speaking customer/friend saw that I was wincing (crying?) he asked if I wanted the barber to stop. I laughed and said No. He told me this is how they do it in Aqaba and I told him that I was in Aqaba to experience things I couldn't at home, so please continue. By the time it was over, we were all laughing. I asked him, How much? He said "Whatever you want" in the best English he could. I checked my understanding with the friend, and he confirmed that's what he meant. I have no clue how much it costs locally, so I gave him the equivalent of what I pay in Walla Walla. And Vonnie thought it was such a good job, both on the hair and the beard, that we stopped today and gave him another tip. He was all smiles, as were we.

Vonnie once again found us wonderful housing for Friday night and Sabbath. We'll be on the Israeli side of the Dead Sea. It took a LOT of work on her part to learn how to call to Israel from Jordan.

Oh, the "washing machine" seemed to work. We will start our next adventures with fresh clothes in the suitcases. (Where are the laundromats?)