Day 139: The Baha’i Gardens

Success! We made it to the Baha’i Gardens in time to go on a tour. It wasn’t the most amazing thing to do in Israel. It was pretty. The tour was nice… but… also a little bit boring. It felt more like a supervised walk through the gardens than an informational tour. After walking up the hill in Haifa yesterday, we felt a certain obligation to go on the tour to see if it was worth it. (Debatable) The short film at the end on the Baha’i Gardens and faith was somewhat interesting, more informative than the tour guide.

A quick review of the Baha’i Religion: it was founded by Baha’u’llah in Persia with the goals of uniting everyone -spiritually at least- on earth. I believe it’s the newest religion. It draws upon persons (messengers being everyone from Moses to Muhammad) and philosophies from Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and more. The Bab (founder) is buried in the gardens in Haifa- in the section we weren’t allowed to visit, specifically within the golden domed building. Interesting fact: No Baha’i follower is allowed to live within Israel. Because of their emphasis on equality, they don’t want anyone to be or think they are holier than others because they live within the holiest site of their religion.

Andrew teased me, asking if I was going to convert because they believe in and work towards equal rights for women. I teased him back that I just might. Unfortunately, over half of the gardens are off limits to visitors. This includes the shrine, library, and all other buildings on the grounds. This seems a bit at odds with their egalitarian philosophy. Guess I won’t be converting any time soon…

After the tour, we hung out back at the hostel and then caught a train down to Tel Aviv to meet up (and stay) with a friend we made in Burma (Myanmar) last year. Anat, and her musically inclined boyfriend, Ron welcomed us with open arms and some fantastic kubbeh. A wonderful respite from the falafel and hummus Andrew has been making me eat. everyday. for lunch. and sometimes dinner.

Day 138: Haifa

Haifa is boring. There. I said it. I have no idea why it’s number three on Trip Advisor’s list of things to do in Israel, because really, there is only one thing to do: The Baha’i Garden. The guided tour starts at noon. If you miss that (like we did), and it happens to be Shabat (like it was the day we planned to go through the garden), you will find yourself out of luck. Most of the city is shut down, buses are not running, and taxi drivers charge extra fare.

We were told there was a sculpture garden on top of the hill in Haifa (where the entrance to the top of the garden is) so we wandered through it. The sculpture garden, we discovered, is a direct reflection of the city itself: boring. Only one artist completed the 20 or so sculptures and they simply lacked imagination – as you may see in the video above.

The best part of the day was stumbling into a falafel joint with a buffet of unlimited sauces and side dishes. We stuffed ourselves silly and then camped out back in our hostel lobby with our computers to blog and plan our re-route through Africa!

Day 137: The joys of traveling around the world

“Smell my fleece.” Andrew demanded. I kept seeing him sniff different parts of it while we had been sitting in front of our computers in the hostel lobby. The joys of backpacking are not limited to smelling each other’s clothes, shoes, bodies at various times. I leaned in.

“Was your fleece on top of your shoes? Because it smells like it. Right here.” I pointed to the left side of his chest.

“Not here… but, right. here.” I said after sniffing around his chest, noting that there is something seriously wrong with us that we are willing to do such activities without hesitation.

“I knew it! Ohmigod I can’t wear this today. We HAVE to do laundry!” He said, and then we went upstairs for him to exchange his smelly fleece for a scarf instead.

My friend Michelle recently asked and made the comment “How is it wearing the same clothes over and over again? These are the kinds of things that people who are too scared to do what you’re doing say is the reason they arent doing it.”

Sometimes, it’s not fun at all. I fall asleep thinking of the variety of shirts and jewelry and bags and heels I have waiting for me at home. Who needs to count sheep when one can lust after her own closet thousands of miles away. Wool sweaters that are too bulky to pack. Dangly earrings that aren’t meant for overnight buses or camel safaris in the desert. The cocktail dress that is not wrinkle free. My silver pointy pumps. My green ballet flats. My ‘moquestian’ boots. I miss my shoes the most. 

This is when my Mom starts singing ‘Material Girl’ and I do not disagree. I miss it all. Sometimes I wear the same outfit for three days in a row because it’s the only thing I have that is warm enough. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve worn mascara on this trip. I’m pretty sure both pairs of my leggings (that I wear as pants, sorry Casey) have holes in them. And I still despise my backpack/daypack situation.

I miss having my own bed, clean sheets, and a pillow that is just right. I hate carrying my computer, DSLR body and three lenses around all of the time because I don’t feel it’s safe to leave behind in our hotel or hostel room. Relying on Skype to call your Mom or your best-friend is the WORST. Unless you keep getting sick in Nepal and India. In that case, that’s the worst. And you miss being able to safely lay down on the bathroom floor knowing you just scrubbed it a week or two ago and it’s relatively clean.

I haven’t cooked anything- as in follow a recipe and/or make something from scratch- since… August? I am officially ‘dog-crazy’ meaning I want one and have to have one right now. But I can’t because Andrew says it’s impossible or whatever while we’re traveling around the world. I miss wing nights and having a ‘place’ where you you go for a beer after work or to meet your friends for dinner. I miss my friends. Desperately. Especially of the girl variety because I’m tired of Andrew rolling his eyes whenever I mention movies starring Channing Tatum.

But.

Like I told Michelle, and like I remind myself constantly, it’s all temporary. And it’s totally worth it. Because when you’re walking through the Siq towards The Treasury in the middle of Petra, you’re not thinking about the closet full of clothes at your parents’ house. When you’re paragliding off the Himalayas, you’re suddenly not so worried about the backpack you’re going to have to pack up and haul around the country when you land back on the ground. And when you’re able to swap out a lens to get a close up shot of the kid hanging out on the Palestinian rooftop, you suddenly don’t mind having carried it around for the past four months straight.