Shuk Carmel

The phone rang at around 11:30 Friday morning. It wasn't the familiar buzzing of my blackberry but rather the obscenely obnoxious voice-over of my IsraelPhone. Imagine a large, angry Israeli fruit vendor screaming at you in Hebrew in a tone that is tantamount to you having just manhandled his prized bundle of grapes. That is the default, and up to this point, irreversible ringtone of the IsraelPhone.

"Do you and Dustin want to go do something Jewy?"

It was Liz, a girl we met at the bowling alley the day before. For a brief moment, flashes of long-bearded rabbis, matzah ovens, and Wailing Wall prayers burst through my addled mind. I figured I had better solicit a little more information. She elaborated that she was going to meet two of her friends at the shuk (bazaar) and figured we might be interested in tagging along.

When in Rome, right?

I called Dustin and he was interested, so we we met up at the security gate and walked down to the bus stop at the Ramat Aviv mall. Some brief background info on Liz. She is only half-Jewish and attends American University. She has been in Israel for the past two months on an internship program and has a fairly respectable command of the area. But, like us, her Hebrew is essentially nonexistent. And by essentially I mean actually.

We boarded the bus and departed for the Shuk Carmel where we met up with two other girls, Alex from Texas and Elana from Pennsylvania. Alex was happy to meet both Dustin and I due to our southern manners and euphemisms. I'm not so sure Dustin counts as being "Southern" since he's from Missouri, but seeing as how his nickname back home was "The Deerslayer" I think I'll let it slide.

After introductions and an overly aggressive offer by an Orthodox Jew to join some sort of Shabat (Sabbath) festivities, we moved from the main pavillion into what looked like a maze of tent-covered alleyways.

My immediate reaction to the scene before me was marked by a bit of wonderment. Dustin would put it best later by describing it as "sensory overload." As we entered the maw of the Shuk Carmel, I realized that I was in the Middle East. I guess it had not really sunk in until that precise moment.

The shuk was bustling. The pathways were crowded with young and old, Israeli and non-Israeli, Jew and Gentile. Hebrew music blared from a sound system somewhere overhead. Dogs barked. Vendors yelled out to passersby to check out their products. A million different conversations were occurring all at once. Products ranged from spices to fresh vegetables to fruits to drink stands to discount clothes to little trinkets and everything in-between. My head was on a swivel. This was not the girls first jaunt to the shuk, but it certainly was mine and Dustin's and we were both getting a lot of looks.

Fortunately Dustin is a big guy and at the time, I had my game face on. Thieves are always a problem and something to lookout for; the Madrichim warned us of that from the very first day we arrived here. Tourists and foreigners are usually their surest prey. That wasn't happening today.

As we navigated the labyrinth that was the Shuk and absorbed the sights, sounds, and smells that comprised its din, the impression I received was mostly positive, despite the occasional stares or glances from hungry eyes within the crowd. This place literally had everything one could want or need. And the vendor stands were as wide as the Carmel alleyway was long. There were shops behind shops and shops within shops. It looked to me to be the perfect place to go to escape, literally or figuratively, from the monotony of life.

The girls were busy looking over fruit and bread. Dustin and I broke down and picked up some fresh pita from a bakery near the end of the bazaar for only seven shekels. The great thing about the shuk is that the prices are usually cheaper and the food is a lot fresher. I also maneuvered over to a boy and his father at a cheese stand and bought some goat cheese. It tasted pretty good.

Loading up my backpack, we met back up with the girls and proceeded out of the Shuk to an outdoor restaurant that served hummus and falafel. I ordered the chicken hummus and split some falafel with the others. Falafel is basically a fried ball of chickpeas. It is hands down one of the best things I have ever tasted. Mom, if you're taking notes, start looking for falafel recipes!

After lunch, we took a trip through the shops outside the Shuk Carmel to buy a bath rug and some paper towels. The man running the store tried to convince me to buy his "three pack" of bath rugs for 65 shekels instead of the one for 15. I mean, I'm not a rocket scientist, but both the utility and the math on that one seemed a bit off. Thanks but no thanks buddy.

In all, the Carmel market experience lasted only two hours. But in those two hours I was able to gain invaluable insight into a culture I've long studied and read about; insight that cannot be obtained by reading a book or an article.

We took the 24 bus back to Einstein Street to rest and recuperate before heading out to the beach later that night. As I walked back up to my dorm, I couldn't help but think that the shuk truly began my education.