As the chorus of groans from the undergraduates grew louder, a thoroughly disheveled and half-asleep Dustin jogged out of the main gate and threw his stuff in the baggage compartment.
The Madrichim (counselors) shook their heads in a mixture of surprise and bemusement and followed him aboard.
"Sorry. Sorry," Dustin said with a laugh.
It was 8:00 a.m.
Dustin's alarm had failed to go off. Ryan had bolted off the bus and back upstairs to Dustin's room to wake him up. Dustin and Ryan made their way to the back of the bus where I sat in a delirious state of partial cognizance.
"Get here when you can," I quipped as Dustin sat down.
"I set my alarm on my phone, but left it on silent," Dustin answered with a laugh. He glanced down at his phone and saw about eight missed calls within a ten minute time span.
"Whuh!" he guffawed in disbelief.
"If you had stayed behind and slept, I was gonna be pretty pissed off," I said groggily. "Because that's exactly what I want to do."
"Couldn't do that. I've got a Rotary presentation in Eilat on Sunday. I just hope all my clothes got packed. Ryan woke me up and said we were leaving and he literally threw all my stuff in a bag in about five minutes."
The speaker phone on the bus crackled, drowning out the whines of about a half dozen undergraduates. One of the Madrichim, Moshe, stood at the front of the bus and smiled. He adjusted his eye glasses before speaking.
"Good morning guys," he said in his thick Israeli accent. "Everyone smile."
Audible groans echoed in staggered intervals. A few of the girls, curled up next to their temporary overseas boyfriends in stomach curdling examples of PDA, started whining.
I hope there are more people from our Master's program on this trip, I thought unrepentantly.
"Sorry about the late start," Moshe continued. "We're about to leave now. We just need to go over a few things, okay? Some of you need more sleep I see."
"It's cool. Dustin got an extra hour for all of us," I said as I pulled my hat down over my face.
***
The Overseas Student Program (OSP) had organized the weekend excursion to Eilat a few weeks before. Having briefly crossed through Eilat en route to the Sinai during what will henceforth be known as Welcome Week In Hell, I was excited to spend a few days in Israel's southernmost city and most popular resort location.
Situated on the Red Sea at the southern edge of the Negev Desert with the Jordanian mountains as its backdrop, the city of Eilat has been transformed into a beach resort getaway for thousands of tourists. It's one of the most popular destinations for Europeans and given the landscape, it's understandable.
We had been looking forward to this trip since hearing about it. If one thing was needed, it was a break from the monotonous grind of the MAMEH program, Hebrew, and Arabic.
The bus ride from Tel Aviv to Eilat was a solid five hours. We made a pit stop in Dimona about two hours into the ride. It was of great relief to see a half dozen other Master's students had tagged along for the ride: Brian, Danny, and Alona among them.
The inaugural entries into Fried Camel for these three fine individuals is long over due. Brian is a graduate from the University of Delaware (Da Blue Hens!) and is one of those rare individuals that radiates intelligence within moments of first meeting. One of the most astute members of our program, he is capable of taking entire discussions thought condemned to the abyss of the mundane or pointless and salvaging them with a single insightful question or quip. His dry sarcasm also provides much needed levity.
Possessing both dual American and Israeli citizenship, Brian was also a member of the distinguished Golani Brigade of the Israeli Defense Force.
For more information on the valiant history of the Golani Brigade, go here and here.
Danny hails from northern Chicago and is straight up the most good-natured person around. With a flair for the stylish and an artistic aura, Danny is always ready for a good time. He enjoys being around people and good conversation. This is convenient given his general propensity for conversing.
And he's a shoe-in for the Chris Daughtry look-a-like competition. Seriously, it borders on frightening.
Alona is from across the pond as it were. She is a dual citizen in the UK and in Israel and possesses the revered British sense of humor that we so enjoy back in the States. A serious student who possesses a cheery disposition, Alona is a refreshing member of our program.
The stop in Dimona didn't last long. We had enough time to use the bathroom and have breakfast at a coffee shop before loading back up onto the bus. And for those of you keeping score, Dimona is the location rumored to house all of Israel's "special weapons" that "Israel will neither confirm nor deny to exist."
Ryan and I joked as we drove through, imagining the sand dunes and hills to be artificial constructs hiding silos with big boomers inside.
Meanwhile, Dustin, like Chewbacca before him, was thinking with his stomach. He picked up a carton of Pillsbury rolls which he would later try to force me to eat in an effort to alleviate the feeling of guilt that only comes from injecting infinite grams of Trans Fat into your system. I will not bend, good sir.
As the morning gave way to the early afternoon, the landscape changed immensely. Approaching Eilat through the vast expanse of the Negev Desert, I was able to take the Negev in in all of its day light glory. The craggy Jordanian mountains stretched for as far as the eye could see to the East. Swaths of arid, no-man's land were dotted with patches of agricultural wonders.
The Israelis have quite literally figured out how to make the desert blossom. Fig and date orchards, along with verdant patches of grass, lay scattered about. It was surreal. The technology and innovation required to make such a thing work was nothing short of miraculous and added yet another element of admiration for the Israeli people.
The bus pulled into Timna Park on the outskirts of Eilat. We were subjected to a brief movie explaining the significance of the land around us, including its richness in copper. Copper had been used by both the Egyptians and the Midianites in ancient times as a prime resource for their metalworking endeavors. The movie was fairly mundane, but it did have a spinning seating construct that, while utterly useless in its utility, did succeed at making a few of us dizzy.
After the film and some brief instructions by the Madrichim, we loaded back up on the bus for the five minute drive to our starting point for our first hike.
***
"We need to put some distance between ourselves and the complaining," I said to Dustin as we marched up the rock and shale-laden Eilat mountains.
"I'm not complaining!" Liz objected with a barely stifled laugh.
"Good. And don't start," I added quickly. "Dustin, Stefan, and I marched for five hours through the Golan Heights and there was nary a peep of complaint because we're men and we're awesome. Elana hiked up Mount Sinai with us in the middle of the night for three hours. She didn't complain either."
"Blah blah blah."
Our guide took us to the top of a vast ridge covered in granite. There were a few falls along the way and Liran (one of our favorite Madrichim) reminded us of the girl who had fallen off a cliff the previous year only to catch herself at the last moment.
My money for this year's victim was on Liz.
As was repeatedly articulated to us by Liran, we had to have a hat, closed shoes, two liters of water, and the ability to put one foot in front of the other at all times.
The trek from the top of the ridge took us down through a valley and into a shadowy canyon. The hike down was slippery as bits of rock and loose shale tumbled from underneath our feet with every step. Falling was a distinct possibility. Fortunately, no one suffered anything more than a slight trip or scrape.
Dvir, another one of the Madrichim, who will feature prominently shortly, brought up the rear of our formation in his characteristic blue jean shorts (i.e. jorts). He is your typical Israeli in that he is physically lean and amusing in his views on the world. However, he is not typical in that his Give-A-Damn is busted. Dvir doesn't sweat anything.
"Look at Dvir in his jorts," Dustin pointed out at the base of the ridge.
Taking his sweet time to meander down the mountain side, Dvir ushered others in front of him.
"He looks like Krusty the Clown with that hair coming out from under his hat," Dustin added.
Our guide took us out from the shadowy canyon and into the open Negev desert. There, we found massive rocks that jutted out from beneath the sand. A group of Israelis were scaling one of the rock faces in the distance.
When we gathered near the ruins of an old Egyptian sanctum, I literally felt as if we were in the middle of an Indiana Jones movie. The desert wind, the mid-afternoon sun, the ruins, and the ancient rocks crafted a nearly perfect enigmatic vibe. All that was needed was a slow playing flute eerily echoing off the rocks, blowing through the sand, and carrying up into the air.
The rock pillars in the distance were known as the Pillars of Solomon. In fact, most of the sights in the area were named after Solomon despite the ancient king having never ruled in the southern tip of the Negev.
And the base of the Pillars of Solomon proved to be our final stop of the hike before returning to the bus and in to downtown Eilat. The Madrichim had procured most of the second floor of the Red Mountains Hotel for our crew.
The hotel restaurant served up a phenomenal Shabat dinner to close out the last day of Hanukkah. As we were eating, Liran got up and announced a "special surprise."
"Guys, we will be leaving at 9:00 to get on the bus," Liran said with a smirk on his face. "I suggest bringing...uh...clothes that...uh...should you get hot, you can dance in."
All the girls started clapping and shouting.
"Guys, guys, I'm not saying anything. I'm just suggesting wearing something under your jacket that...again...should you get hot, you can remove your jacket and dance in."
I flashed Dustin a raised eyebrow.
"Ruh roh Raggy."
***
"I've seen this movie before," I said as we stepped onto the massive boat docked at the marina. "It doesn't end well."
As the OSP students filed onto the boat and climbed up the dual ladders to its upper deck, we found it exposed to the elements. Off to my immediate left was a bar. An assortment of chairs and couches lined the railing around the outdoor deck.
Party Boat. On the Red Sea. Score.
The Madrichim explained that the drinks were not free and we would have to procure our liquid courage on our own shekel. But that didn't seem to bother anyone.
As the vessel revved up and exited its berth for the open waters ahead, it became readily apparent that Dustin and I were going to have to show everyone just what we were capable of on the dance floor.
Dvir came strolling past us toward the bar. He had changed out of his jorts into something slightly more acceptable in the public sphere.
"Hey Dvir," I called out.
He turned around.
"Gonna need you to go ahead and call the cops. Because I'm about to murder the dance floor."
He paused for a moment and grinned.
"I'll be sure to let the Coast Guard know to shine a spotlight on you, Andrew."
"Oh yeah! Challenge accepted," Dustin added.
Shortly thereafter, the music started. The combination of flashing lights and loud music out on the open water of the Red Sea made me grin. The civilizational divide couldn't be more apparent as the relatively dim lights of Aqaba, Jordan and the utter darkness of Saudi Arabia and Egypt loomed off in the distance.
"It needs to be loud enough for the Saudis to hear us," I quipped to Liz.
"Why not just go park off their shore and give them another reason to hate us?" she responded as the captain turned on some rap.
"All we need is some flashing lights that say 'Infidels Aboard.'"
***
"Damn! Go son!" Danny yelled.
Dvir was not about to outdo me on this one. Dustin and I had already been busting out river dance. And I had only gone through a half dozen endzone celebrations. There were plenty more utterly humiliating moves left in our considerable repertoire.
As others surrounded us, laughter and cheers nearly threatened to drown out the music.
Wearing his hooded jacket, Dvir looked as if he was trying to pull off an Israeli version of Eminem from "8 Mile." But aesthetics were not going to be enough to triumph on this night. Utilizing Steve-O's infamous "motorcycle crank," footwork achieved only through years of watching Cody, and what was essentially nothing less than coordinated retardation, Dvir bowed out and accepted defeat to cheers and applause for both of us.
Dvir strolled over toward me with a sly grin.
"Andrew, the Coast Guard is on its way."
"Tell 'em to wait. It looks like its Dustin's turn."
Boom! There came the thunderous fury of the "Grundy"-- a move that quite literally sent ripples through the deck. It was nothing less than a full fledged gorilla thunder clap. A chorus of laughter erupted. Dustin rode the waves of cheers with a formidable rendition of the "Cowboy."
We had essentially adopted the U.S. Army slogan of "Own the night." For that night and the subsequent night, we certainly did.
But what happened next, no one could have predicted.
Oshrat, one of the other Marichim, announced a very special surprise. From behind the captain's cabin, bounded a certifiable, barely clothed...belly dancer.
Everyone spread out and allowed her to perform her...ritual. At this particular juncture, I would be remiss if I did not mention that an item on my Bucket List had been crossed off.
Ryan moved over next to me, pumped beyond belief.
"This is a blast!"
The belly dancer continued on her own for a few more minutes. But soon she targeted Danny. Standing off to the side, Danny was inadvertently pulled onto the floor with her to a roar of mixed laughter and surprise.
She soon made her way over to Dvir and then to another person. And before I knew it, she grabbed me by the hand and walked me out onto the middle of the deck. Dustin whipped out his camera and began recording. I detected a chortle coming from him almost immediately.
Many things were flashing through my mind at that moment, not the least of which was the fact that I have a wonderful girlfriend and relationship which I would never compromise.
But figuring that it would make for one helluva funny story and knowing that Allison would have encouraged it had she been there, I threw caution to the wind and decided that this belly dancer needed a lesson in how to break it down, not to mention career management.
She would have to join Dvir on my casualty list. And she did.
As I walked back to join Dustin, Ryan, and Liz, I found that they were all cackling.
"That's going on Facebook!" Dustin exclaimed with a burst of laughter.
"Dustin, do you want to make it to 24?"
Scaling the Eilat Mountains.
Dvir. And the infamous jorts.
The Pillars of Solomon.
Israelis scaling the vertical face of the mountain.
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