Tiyul to Tel Aviv

Though I've been to Tel Aviv several times, it never ceases to surprise me how different the city is from good ole Jerusalem.

Yesterday a vast majority of us HUC-sters and SOs boarded an air-conditioned chartered bus (thank you, interns!) and journeyed down the hill to the city by the bay for a day of sun and fun. We arrived around 1pm, ate some delicious non-Kosher sandwiches, lounged at the beach for several hours, ditched a Shabbat service to have non-Kosher Chinese food for dinner, and headed back to quiet Jerusalem in the early evening.

The glorious Mediterranean Sea welcomes you with a "Swimming Prohibited" sign

Thanks to my inability to get out of the house on time, Lauren, Adam, and I had to haul ass down to HUC so we didn't miss the bus. By the time we got there we were sweaty and disgusting. This is, unfortunately, not entirely uncommon. Two showers a day is the norm here in J'lem.

When we got off the bus in Tel Aviv we were shocked to be hit by a wave of intense humidity. Thus, the sweat and disgust that had somehow evaporated during our air-conditioned ride returned tenfold. However, we were so happy to be smack dab in the middle of hustle-bustle Tel Aviv, it barely mattered.

A group of us walked around the Nachlat Binyamin shuk-like-area for about ten minutes before the density of the crowd got to us. There were more people crowded into that packed little street than any other place I've been in J'lem; even the shuk on a Friday morning could not compare.

People buying things. Lots of things.

So, we meandered over to Shenkin Street (arguably the epicenter of Haute Couture in Israel) for a delicious lunch and window shopping.

Israel-Chic on Shenkin Street

It was midway through our lunch that my Sensory Overload wore off and I was able to ascertain why Tel Aviv is so different from Jerusalem. First, the way women dress in Tel Aviv is starkly different from the buttoned-up conservative-chic look of J'lem. Everywhere I looked on Shenkin Street were women of all shapes and sizes flaunting their figures and not giving a hoot. Women had crazy colored hair, tattoos, and all sorts of interesting clothing choices. The female body is celebrated in Tel Aviv, whereas Jerusalem encourages its women to button it up and save it for their husbands.

The noise was overwhelming in Tel Aviv. Granted, Jerusalem any day but Saturday is not a quiet place. (Especially on Rehov Ramban) But the sounds coming up from the streets of TA were overwhelming! Every time my eyes moved, my ears focused on a new word, new sound, new melodies. It felt like Tel Aviv was bursting with life and raw, unbridled energy. It could have been Friday afternoon craziness, or perhaps it was something more. But Tel Aviv was loud. Real loud. And completely, totally proud.

The third thing I noticed was the relative scarcity of ultra-religious Jews walking around. Here in J'lem, and especially in Rehavia, there are religious Jews everywhere you look. They identify themselves not only by way of dress, but how they carry themselves in the "outside" world. Usually, picking out an observant Jew begins with their clothing choices. For men it's a polyester black suit, kippah or black hat, and occasional tzitzit. For women, it's the long sleeves, long skirt, and obvious wig.

But with both men and women, there is a tremendous conveyance of coldness that comes out of their body language. They look harried, exhausted; like they're rushing to get to shul. The women pushing the baby strollers always kills me; they look unhappy, perhaps desperate. It's a strange thing to experience, especially when you believe in the same God. Relatively speaking.

After our Shenkin Street tour, we walked several blocks down to the beach. Now, as Los Angeles girl I feel it is my birthright to love the ocean and worship the goddess of warm white sand. Yet, I've always found the beach a bit unsettling, and perhaps a little bit uncomfortable. The crash of waves can be a little scary, I worry about people (specifically children) drowning, and the sand always gets in places you don't want it to go.

However, the Mediterranean Sea was warm, sparkling, and beautiful yesterday. Just to be able to dip my feet in the water was a gift that kept on giving. Adam and I shared some delicious Stella Artois beers at the restaurant overlooking the ocean, and it was incredibly relaxing. It felt like a real pleasure to sit there and enjoy our Friday afternoon together.

My view from our table in the restaurant.

As the sun went down we found ourselves sandy, sweaty, and slightly exhausted. Thus, the option of going to Shabbat services didn't thrill me. And I was plenty hungry. So, in true Tel Aviv style, we skipped services and headed off to a nearby Chinese restaurant with a small group of HUCsters. It was a good meal, good conversation, and good adventure. To me, having positive experiences with new people can substitute for a service you don't feel you can sit through.

To sum it all up, Tel Aviv seemed to me like a big middle finger sticking up at Jerusalem. The city itself felt like a rebel, challenging the orthodox of Jerusalem with its non-Kosher restaurants and scantily-clad women. It seemed a bit over-the-top, a bit ballsy, but totally and completely unique. Tel Aviv is a fearless city; unafraid to be a little dirty, a little secular, and a whole lot busy. I hope to spend more time there in the next few weeks before Adam returns to the states.

Until next time,

Jaclyn