Entry 6: Journey to Greece

Sunday March 15
My last night in Israel I stayed one more time at the Milk and Honey Hostel, the place I worked at for almost two months in December and January.

While there I met a new hostel volunteer, Stephanie, another Jewish American active in politics who enjoyed my Birthright critique. We talked endlessly about Israeli politics, as she was actively involved in the campaign supporting the labor party, the main opposition to Netanyahu. While she has no doubts that the Israeli labor party is no win for the peace struggle, in her view it's the lesser of two evils, at least better than Netanyahu. Some disagree however, as a Netanyahu win means the horrors of the occupation won't be hidden by the nice guy face of the Labor party.

My last few hours I said goodbye to Milk and Honey staff when I suddenly remembered I still had the key to my friend's place in Jerusalem, so had to rush to deliver her key to her parents' place in Tel Aviv. Luckily some friendly Israelis helped me find the place and gave me money for the bus as well as a lecture on why I should make Aliyah and marry a Jew. I'm not sure if the free bus ride was worth suffering through that talk.

On the way to the airport I met Alberto, a Spanish-German guy trying to bike around the world who paid for my train ticket to the airport as I had little money. We ended up sitting next to each other on the two hour flight to Athens! After landing at nine at night Alberto and I took the train into the city and instantly started talking to a Greek woman who invited us to dinner the day after the next, which unfortunately neither of us could make it because I went with my relatives instead.

Alberto went to his hostel and I met my CouchSurfing host Dimitri. His one room apartment on top of a building in the south of Athens can see the mountains overlooking the city, and welcomed me to a comfy couch and crunchy paximadi.

Monday 3/16

I toured Athens, mostly the Acropolis, Parthenon, and its museum. Honestly it was underwhelming, Greeks openly admit that I should go to Italy for the ancient architecture instead. Later that night I watched Annabelle, some horror film with my CS host Dimitri. I hate horror films, and my sweaty hands from my nerves affirmed that.

Tue 3/17
There's a neighborhood in Athens known for it's rich political history and vibrant anarchism, Exarchia with a public square that hosts parties every weekend and a market once a month. I never saw this happen but supposedly if police try to enter some parts of this neighborhood they will get molotovs thrown at them from the rooftops. Curious, I went to Exarchia Square to hang out with my ukulele, (any instrument can easily make you new friends) and met a self-proclaimed anarchist Syrian refugee named Sam. We talked for a while and he bought me a beer as I played ukulele for the others around him, and met some other refugees. Towards the evening, there suddenly poured tons and tons of people all wearing black out of a cafe in the corner of the Square. Sam and I wandered over and I met a Bookchin inspired anarchist who explained to me what was going on: they were preparing for a demonstration and march in solidarity for the political prisoners going through hunger strikes. I ended up joining them as well as thousands of others dressed in black in Monastiraki Square. Sticking out like a sore thumb in my blue sweater and ukulele, I wandered around talking to people to get a feel for what was about to happen. It took an hour to finally begin marching but when we did they yelled chants in Greek and asked me not to take pictures of their faces because of security culture, they don't want the police to find out who they are. Check out my blurry video in which you can't see much but you can at least hear the Greek chants. Here are two articles of the event, one from an anarchist perspective and one from the mainstream. In a fortuitous display of events the march just happened to end at Syntagma square at 8 pm, which is the exact time and place where I had arranged to meet my relatives for the first time for dinner. They were late due to the march but it was fun getting an escort there. It was only after I left the demonstration that the fires and clashes with police erupted, which were far away from me and my relatives' dinner.

Before leaving America six months ago I met with Manny, my Dad's cousin in Cambridge to learn about my relatives in Greece who I hoped to meet. Manny gave me their contact information, so I emailed them to explain who I was, hoping to meet them in person. Christos and Dimitris Kaklamanis are brothers with another sister who couldn't make it there, my Dad's second cousins. My great-grandmother is their grandmother's sister.  They bought me dinner and I showed them the family tree Manny made for me as well as pictures of my family, and I learned about my relatives in Greece and told them about my travels in the Middle East.

Wed 3/18
I left my CS host Dimitris (note: very common name in Greece, I'm referring to my CouchSurfing host here, not my cousin) Wednesday night to take the six hour night train to Thessaloniki, the cheapest train ride I could find. With the lights on constantly and no room to stretch out, I barely slept but at least I got plenty of reading done.

Thurs 3/19

Early Thursday morning at the train station, my new CS host Vasiliki, or Billy, came to get me to take me to his home where he lived with his brother, both attending a local university.

Fri 3/20

Today for the first time I tried busking, the word for performing on the street as a street entertainer. I still wasn't coordinated enough to sing and play ukulele at the same time but I played almost all day, practicing my heart out. The very first person to give me money was a little girl who handed me a few cents. All together I made maybe a couple euros over five hours but it was worth it. Playing ukulele simply makes me happy, as it's music and I'm used to playing piano whenever I want at home and missed playing so much. I really don't care if I don't make money as the act of playing it relieves stress on it's own.

That night Vasiliki and his friends took me to a bar where plenty of wine was drank and Greek music played, and we all ended up going to the home of one of his friends' friends to hang out until maybe four in the morning.

Sat 3/21

I busked for just a half hour with Vasiliki, who is an excellent musician who made twenty euros after four hours of playing while I wandered off to meet another friend I met online at a cafe.

At ten pm I walked to Vasiliki's friend's house to meet him and his friends there, with lots of music, dancing, baklava, paximadi, and rakomelo, a very strong alcohol mixed with honey that stung my eyes when it touched my lips. Surprisingly, ouzo, the licorice flavored alcoholic drink commonly associated with Greece isn't very popular in Greece. Vasiliki played greek music almost the whole time with his bouzouki, a Greek styled guitar, and sang with the music in Greek as I danced along and they all laughed at my dancing. Oh and I ate so much paximadi, which they covered with a tasty salsa drenched in olive oil I was full for days.

Sun 3/22

I met Nathan, who Vasiliki also hosted from CouchSurfing for that night. Also Jewish, he left America two years ago after he hated his job and has been traveling since, now does copy editing from his mini laptop as he travels for work. He bought me a pork gyro, which had ketchup and mustard on it -- very surprising to me as I expected only tzatziki.

That night I went to my new CS host Fereshteh, an Iranian student of an Italian university currently on Erasmus student exchange at Aristotle University in Thessaloniki. The whole time I stayed with her I pretended I was an Erasmus student to get into the university's cafeteria for free but shitty meals.

Mon 3/23

Nathan joined Fereshteh and I for lunch at the cafeteria and then Nathan and I tried looking for museums to explore, however they were closed as it was Monday. We also discovered that the Jewish cemetery where Nathan's great-grandfather is buried was destroyed by the Nazis and Aristotle University was built on top of it. So we just hung out in a cafe as he worked while I did emails and planning.

Nathan and I had dinner at uni then went on a bus to a party Fereshteh suggested, running into her on bus. It was a Erasmus student party at a bar/dance club, with games too like a "famous couples name tag match game", if you found your match you both got a free shot, which I did. Some very drunk person got loud and angry at me for having a Bill Clinton name tag even though I didn't have a choice but thankfully I found nicer people to talk with, like another traveler who was visiting Greece from Turkey.

Tue 3/24

Wed 3/25

The past two days poured lots of rain in Thessaloniki, so that meant lots of conversation with Fereshteh about each other's cultures. One of these nights I ate an entire jar of olives for dinner as I walked along the boardwalk, feeling the breeze of the Mediterranean.

Thurs 3/26

Took the night train from Thessaloniki to Athens, met Syrian and Palestinian refugees, showed them my pics of Palestine and tried talking to them in Arabic and what little English they knew. One of them kept trying to speak Arabic to me no matter how much I didn't understand a word of what he said.

Fri 3/27
Arriving early in the morning to Athens, I ate a jar of snails I found in a market for breakfast, escargot drenched in olive oil. Later on I felt fine, thankful for the protein.

I met my CS host Vaios and his girlfriend Stella who had an odd fascination for America with pictures of my homeland all over their house. They have visited a couple times and plan to go again so I promised to host them when I return to America and serve them pancakes with maple syrup. Stella is from Cyprus, and she taught me much about Cypriot history like that they still have their own extant language in addition to Greek.

Sat 3/28
A few months ago I asked the anarchist subreddit, /r/anarchism if anyone in Greece would like to tour me around, host me, or at least get coffee to talk about the situation in Greece. Someone responded and I finally met this guy today, though he was sick and couldn't hang out long we got coffee and he toured me to a university known for the uprising in the 70's during the dictatorship, which is still occupied.

Sun 3/29

Busked with ukulele and made over 4 euro, so technically this means I'm a professional ukulele player now, right? Anyone want to recommend songs to play? So far my list, in order of how well I know them and how much I play them, includes "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, "Hot and Cold" by Katy Perry, "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" by Green Day, "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen, "In My Mind" by Amanda Palmer, "Let It Be" by the Beatles, "No Rain" by Blind Melon. I figure a good mix of traditional and pop could net me the best income but I so far only have three songs memorized and I need sheet music for the rest, so I keep it at my feet as I play.

Mon 3/30

Tue 3/31

Left Vaios and Stella

Busked, made 4.10

Got my cell phone charger back from CS host Dimitri since I left it there when I went to Thessaloniki. He bought me coffee and a pick for my ukulele as I was developing a blister on my thumb from strumming my ukulele.

Later that day I met Garifallia, who's name means I think means flower or chrysanthemum in Greek. She took me up one of the big hills (mountains for an East-coaster like me) of Athens to see the sunset, and on the way down we played basketball with invisible ball at a court we found until a kid felt sorry for us and gave us a real ball.
As night came I went to my new CS host Chris, an aircraft engineer in the Greek military who says "dude" more than most Americans and served me popcorn and beer for dinner.

Wed 4/1

Went with Chris to the Olympic stadium with his girlfriend, an immigrant from Nigeria. As I saw the Olympic pool my inner child burst in glee -- this is where Michael Phelps won his six gold medals in 2004. Unfortunately I couldn't go in but perhaps I'll find a way to pretend I'm friends with Phelps.

Thurs 4/2

Fri 4/3

Fantastic view of Acropolis at night (see pic) from a nearby hill in Thessio, a neighborhood/area of Athens.

Sat 4/4

Busked for an hour in Thessio and made two euro, met another ukulele player and played with her for a bit.
That night I went to a synagogue (see pic, outside and inside) in Athens for Passover (Jewish holiday), which has 24/7 armed guards outside as Antisemitism is rampant in a country in which the Nazi party Golden Dawn has 5-10% of the vote. It was a Sephardic synagogue that split men to the bottom floor and women to the top, with barely anyone in attendance. After the service they invited me to the Chabad House (sort of a Jewish community center) that doubles as a Sephardi (Spanish Jews) cuisine restaurant for the Passover Seder (pics, one and two). Despite the lack of matzah balls, the Mediterranean flavors impressed me over the top as I ate my heart out. It was at this Seder that I met yet another guy from Silver Spring, a town just ten minutes away from my hometown. If you've following my blog you would know that I've met several people from Silver Spring in my travels already, so this pushed the freaky coincidence meter over the top and spilled over the Seder plate. He was in his sixties, on vacation visiting his son if I remember correctly, traveling to Turkey and Israel as well as Greece. I asked him if he could take some stuff of mine with him home but unfortunately he couldn't because he over-packed too. At least he was ok with his picture on the internet with my crazy hair!

Sun 4/5

Left CS Chris
While waiting to meet my relatives for dinner, I used the restaruant's wifi to FaceTime with my friend from home Carl as a test to see if FaceTime would work. It just so happened to be my Dad's birthday today, and so I had this idea to FaceTime with him as a birthday present while I had dinner with my relatives, who are my Dad's second cousins. Though the noise of the restaurant posed difficulty hearing, we passed my phone around for us all to talk with him, and my Mom, cat and dog also said hello from Scaggsville, Maryland. At the restaurant with me was not only Christos and Dimitiris Kaklamanis again but also their sister Dimitra and their mother Marika. Dimitra's daughter, my third cousin Marianna, would have shown up but she was sick. Of course, I was so distracted I forgot to take a picture of this get together but I'm sure there will be lots of pictures when I'm with them for Easter.
That night I went with my second cousin once-removed Dimitri to stay with him until Easter. He and his wife live at the foot of a mountain (legit mountain, not a hill) on the edge of Athens with their two baby twins and a maid who helps with the twins as one of them is chronically sick and won't eat.

Mon 4/6
I'm thinking of teaching English as a second language (TESL) as a way to travel and work, so I'm looking into various certification courses that could get me such a job. The Certification in English Language Teaching for Adults (CELTA) is one such qualification administered by Cambridge University in England, which is a governing body for centers all over the world.  To taste the waters to see if it's right for me I found such a school in Athens, and went in to learn about it and take the pre-exam at the center. Twenty minutes into the exam without having done anything, I realized that the full-time one month long course would be a massive mistake, as my level of ADHD cannot possibly handle such intensity. I used up the 90 minutes allotted for this pre-exam staring into the wall, my mind wandering, and messaging some friends to vent about my lack of focus. There is another option for me however, a part-time semester long course that would be much easier for someone like me without much time-management ability. Unfortunately these longer, more relaxed courses don't start start until this Fall, which may screw up my plans to be in Paris Nov/Dec for the UN Climate Conference. Or perhaps I'll stay in Greece until then and try to get Greek citizenship/passport as I wait to take the part-time course in Athens this Fall.

Tue 4/7
For now, busking is my source of income and I continue to practice. I recorded myself for you all to hear: please enjoy and know that I've only been playing a little over a month, so I'm still learning. Feel free to critique, be blunt and honest! Should I stop singing and try playing harmonica with ukulele instead with one of those neck stands that let me play ukulele and harmonica at the same time? I don't know how to play harmonica but I have one with me.

Garifallia found me playing ukulala and we ate spanikopita together, unfortunately without cheese because the religious tradition says no animals products in the forty days before Easter and some bakeries and restaurants follow this rule.

This weekend I will go with my relatives to Lefkada, the island my family comes from, for Easter as we will roast lamb, play Greek music, and visit Karya, the village in Lefkada of my ancestors.

And hopefully I'll post my next blog entry much sooner!

Entry 4: Jaffa to Ramallah

Jaffa to Ramallah


Wednesday, Jan 21

After several days of procrastinated packing I finally left with goodbye hugs to my friends. I must admit I was sad to go but I didn't want to get too comfortable.

Right now I'm in the mindset that I need to keep traveling, I left the Milk and Honey hostel because I could feel myself getting too comfortable there. I made great friends and it was sad to go but I felt like I had to because I'm traveling -- that's what you do when you travel, right? Yet when I walked away with my heavy backpack slowing me down, there was an additional weight of regret pulling me back to Milk and Honey as if I wanted to stay longer.

The warmth of the sun and clear skies gave plenty of room for thinking my plans over though I trekked onward to an on-ramp Ori suggested to try hitchhiking, or "tremping" as they call it in Israel. Swaying in my arms in plastics bags were a fire starter and fuel kit that I collected from guests who left them behind, dried fruit, nuts, and granola to ensure my sustenance for the coming days.

I waited a half-hour until I met Shoshana, a New Jersey native who picked me up on her way to her Jerusalem home. We talked the whole time about our home country and why we left.

Once she dropped me off I took the short walk to Abraham Hostel where I checked in for free, as fellow hostel workers get three free nights there. Soon after, I met up with my friend Zoe, an experienced traveler helping me spread my wings and fly, who toured me through the city.

After a long day I rested my head in a crowded dorm room of Abraham Hostel.


Thursday, Jan 22

I woke up early to get first in line at the Ministry of the Interior's Jerusalem office where my attempt to extend my visa was thwarted by a bureaucratic delay, which I was warned is horrifying -- the earliest appointment I could get was February 9th, one day before my visa expires. Whatever, I'll get there early that day too, and if they don't accept it then I will quickly trek to the Southern Israeli city of Eilat where I can hop to Aqaba, Jordan and back, though they may only extend my visa for ten days. If this happens then I will try the Egyptian Sinai and back, or maybe move on to Cyprus.

I returned early enough to score a second breakfast at Abraham Hostel where I found a former guest of Milk and Honey, Tseda, an American researching for her senior thesis on the history of medical attention to refugees (I think? I forget).

Stressed about my visa circumstances, I wandered around the city and ate a mini cup of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough (so thankful they have it here) until I ran into my Norwegian friend from the asshole-led Jerusalem Gardens hostel, Bjørnulf -- Beo for short. I forgot to write about it in my last post but I ran into him at the Milk and Honey Hostel too, as he wanted an escape for a day, so it was a crazy coincidence to see him again. He lifted my stress and I went straight back to the Abraham Hostel's wifi to work out my situation.

While I could have stayed for free at Abraham Hostel, I ditched my reservation to CouchSurf with Ira from Silver Spring, Maryland, a town fifteen minutes away from my hometown of Scaggsville! Ira hosted another guest along with me, Claudio from Italy, and regaled us with tales of his activist youth in the 70's.

Friday, Jan 23
Friday and Saturday I found another CouchSurfing host, Shiri, a chemistry student at Hebrew University who cooked me and her friends a fabulous vegan dinner that kept me full for days. Like me, she grew up Jewish but is now atheist, so we bonded over that.

It's interesting actually, my time here in Israel has made feel less Jewish. Non-religious and atheist-Jews in America often still culturally identify with Judaism, joking and mocking their own Judaism to stick out as a form of identify expression in a Christian dominated culture. I know some such American Jews who casually joke about themselves openly to their friends as if to remind themselves and others about their Jewish background. Not that this is a bad thing, it creates a sense of community and belonging out of a tiny percentage of society who would be alienated otherwise.

However Israel doesn't have this because of the Jewish dominated culture. It's not necessary to joke about getting Chinese food for Christmas when nobody forces Jesus down your throat. The secular and left leaning Jews I've met here are actually disgusted at the increasingly religious-right government and certain parts of the population, so they eschew Judaism all together to create bonds rather than joking about their own Judaism like American Jews do. When showing my avocado seed carved Star of David to an Israeli I met he even compared it to the Nazi Swastika, asking me to get rid of the nationalism from his sight.

I can't deny my Jewish cultural identity though since I was raised with it but when the Netanyahu administration ties Judaism with Israeli Nationalism it becomes elitist when one does deny the Palestinian struggle.

Ok, that's enough pseudo-anthropological rambling, let's return to my blog.

Sunday, Jan 25

I left Shiri's place early to ensure my procrastination habits of a few days before would not resurface, leaving the fire starter and fuel here as I didn't want to bring that through the checkpoint. Standing at two of my bus stops on the way, I mentioned to the Israelis waiting with me where I was going to which they gravely warned me to be careful and wished me luck not to get killed. The only thing that scared me, I told myself, was how ignorant Israelis were -- buses are segregated, after all. (Keep this is mind as you read though as I end up scared nonetheless.)

I got to the bus station for Palestinians at around 3:00 PM, where a friendly one-armed man enthusiastically helped me toss my giant backpack and grocery bags under the bus and asked for twenty shekels, which I assumed was for the bus ride. I think he ripped me off though, using ten of those to pay for his own ticket, and since asked me for more money when I sat next to him. After he fell asleep, I occupied my time with staring out the window, keeping silent and enjoying the Arabic language in the air.

Passing the checkpoint is a breeze going in; it's on the way out that gives Palestinians hours, usually a full day, of trouble. During this bus ride I saw the apartheid wall up close for the first time -- it was surreal, a high wall with barbed wire rounding the top decorated by watch towers and occasional graffiti. I didn't get a photo, I wanted to wait until I learned the culture a bit first before I pulled out my iPhone's camera. As the blue dot on my phone approached Area D Hostel, which I knew had free wifi, I exited the bus and thanked the driver, shukran, lugging my bags across the street toward the hostel while people smiled at the American idling by.

Soon after borrowing a phone to call my CouchSurfing host Mohanad, he took me to Ramallah Cafe for hookah where he smoked as we chatted for a couple hours. He bought me Chinese take out as we headed for his home in the north of the city. I have a private room, bathroom, and shower in his beautiful apartment, recently emptied by his ex-wife and three-year-old daughter who he plans to see in Sweden soon. Mohanad works at a bank while studying for his master's in International Development, mountain biking with his friends in the little free time he has, so his busy schedule allows me to explore the city by myself.

Edit: check out this article about him and his friends mountain biking in Palestine!

http://www.middleeasteye.net/in-depth/features/palestine-riders-biking-through-holy-land-226620473

Or this link:
http://www.thatsramallahbaby.com/#!Mountainbiking-in-Palestine-Thats-Ramallah-Baby/c166d/55ae11330cf286eab0280e10

Monday, Jan 26

I woke up early yet spent much of the morning on my phone looking over my plans, with a late start out of Mohanad's home. While it's a half hour walk away from the city center, I took the stroll to see the route. Perplexed by a fancy KFC/Pizza Hut on the side of the road, I wandered in expecting to check it out for just a minute when a man exclaimed at me to help him finish his meal after learning I was American. I rejected at first but he insisted and eventually left me alone for his taxi job, which I first thought he was slyly making me pay for his meal but he turned out to be a sincerely nice guy.

Full with grease, I kept moving toward the city center where a swarm of kids ran into me at the afternoon market trying to communicate with what little English they knew, though it was much better than my Arabic. They cheerfully led me to their "boss man," an eighteen-year-old named Ali selling vegetables for his father's business, who's Arabic name on Facebook is علي أبو عطيه. The rest of the day and through the night I learned what Palestinian hospitality means. It's as if their national sport is throwing kebabs and pastries at Americans. From a teen worker handing me raw fennel drizzled with lemon juice to an old man walking by who came out of nowhere and literally pushed his half-eaten doughnut into my mouth out of giddy generosity, I was stuffed until the next morning.

Ali asked me more than a few times if I was scared to which I replied that I wasn't. No way, why would I be scared? They are people just like any other on Earth, kind and compassionate at heart. But could he see something that I couldn't? In the middle of goofing around with the kids at the busy market, an older guy around my age cut through the crowd and inched to my face with a stern glare, seemingly annoyed at me as if I was disturbing his family by my presence. I calmly asked him if he was ok, repeating myself several times yet got only a silent, angry glare in response. After a full minute or two of this he let out an incomprehensible yell -- immediately followed by a chorus of laughter as the kids realized their older brother was joking with me long before I did. He walked away chuckling at my fear. Without me realizing it, Ali was right. It was just 24 hours after arriving in a new place and new culture, the Arab world and the "Other," why wouldn't I have some fear and anxiety? Racism permeates us all subconsciously, it's naive to think I wasn't scared of entering the West Bank.

I hung out with Ali and his friends at the market until it closed shortly after seven, then we all headed to an Internet cafe in a taxi-van to spend the rest of the night goofing off, sharing music, and learning about each other's lives in butchered Arabic and English, while sipping a creamy, orchid tea (picture!). While it was mostly fun and games, they also showed me YouTube videos of the IDF countering Palestinian demonstrations and a montage of Palestinians who have died at the hands of the IDF. While they love Americans they don't like our government, which backs Israel. Interestingly, I never heard the word "Jewish" from anyone yet; it's pretty clear to me that despite some Israelis claims otherwise, Palestinians hate Israel, not Jews. My CouchSurfing host has Israeli friends he invites over, though with difficulty due to the wall. I brought up the subject on my own and told him I was Jewish, which didn't phase him at all.

Ali invited me to stay with his family that night, who gave me another full dinner. I wasn't hungry but it would be rude to refuse and it was tasty anyway. After I told his Dad I was in Israel before coming here he gave me a long talk in decent English about how Israel doesn't exist, it's all Palestine, which I was grateful for the opportunity to listen and not argue. He also spoke in Arabic to Ali at length about their financial situation; I could see the poverty in their faces though they didn't specifically mention it to me. Hanging on their family's wall and as Ali's Facebok profile picture is a portrait of one of his sons who was taken prisoner by the IDF even though he was not armed.

They have a small television and wifi, though it's a crowded home as I slept in a small bedroom with two of Ali's brother's while Ali got out an extra mattress to sleep on the living room floor. I only saw Ali's Mom a couple times, who wore a headscarf and didn't make eye contact with me. While Ramallah isn't as traditional as the rest of the West Bank women are still often kept separate from men, especially when guests arrive. In the streets however I see plenty of women without any headscarves. I was warm enough to sleep most of the night however the morning call to prayer at around 5 AM wouldn't let me fall back asleep. The mosque must have been very close to his home because it was very loud and kept going for at least twenty minutes. In a odd sense of familiarity and curiosity I realized that while it was definitely foreign to me, it was similar to Jewish music heard in synagogues as a minor keyed tune.

Tuesday, Jan 27

7:00 AM breakfast at Ali's was sweetened tea, though he bought me some plastic wrapped pastries on the way to the market as well. He works twelve hour days with his family yet makes the best of it despite the conditions, giving travelers like me all he has. I hung out at the Area D Hostel typing this up (check out the view!) and checking emails then went back to market where I was given more fruits and pastries out of hospitality.

Notes, Tuesday through Sunday:

Mohanad finished the book he had for his course, "Popular Resistence in Palestine: A History of Hope and Empowerment" by Mazin B. Qumsiyeh, so he lent it to me for reading.

One night, Mohanad took me to meet his friends at an Irish pub where I met other CouchSurfers, NGO workers, and travelers. It was like a UN meeting of various countries sipping alcohol in Ramallah. Another night we went out again to a different bar and then to a dance club at the top floor of a fancy hotel.

I mostly wandered around the city, not doing anything in particular, but simply exploring and getting to know the place. Often people of all ages shout out to me "Welcome!", wave in glee, or even hand me a piece of whatever fruit or vegetable they are selling. Once some teens followed me around asking for shekels, the Israeli currency also used here, but adults caught them and sternly told them to back off (or at least I assume that's what they said since I don't know Arabic). On the other hand, I've had kids offer me money too, which I had to flat out refuse -- there's no way I'm taking that from them. While I typically walk everywhere to save money, walking to the Mahmoud Darwish museum honoring the late poet some people offered me a ride in their car right up to the front gate.

I left my CouchSurfing host Mohanad to spend one night for free at Area D Hostel on Saturday night, since a volunteer there invited me when he visited Milk and Honey a few weeks ago.

I start volunteering at the Hostel in Ramallah today, Sunday February 1st, for at least one month, and I may volunteer at a refugee camp or teach English during the next month. My first week here has been incredible, here's to the rest of my time here.

Adding on: Just got to the Hostel in Ramallah, and was greeted by a wonderful guitar voilin duet rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" as we're making dinner together. I like it here already, great music, great food, great people.

List of Arabic words I've memorized so far (pardon me if I butcher them):

Salaam Alaikum -- hello, goodbye, peace. Like Shalom in Hebrew

Layla Sayeeda -- goodnight

Jayeed -- good

Mahyi -- water

Shukran -- thank you

Israel post-Birthright. Blog entry one.

Apparently I should do these more often.

I'm finalizing a 24 page essay on Birthright, exposing it's propaganda point by point. And I've been waiting to finish that before doing any other blogs.

But screw it, here's a quick one for everyone in the meantime. I guess this means you can see the rough draft of the essay if you skip to the previous blog entry. Read if you want but I may add or delete some of it.

Wednesday night, Nov 19th.

Birthright ended, goodbyes were rushed as people went off to different directions.

I went with Maxi (our 60 something year old guide) and Eitan, a fellow Birthrighter, on a train towards Tel Aviv. We were all headed in different directions.

I went to my Dad's friend Melissa's house in the suburbs and stayed there for the next four nights, where I spent most of the time typing my essay. I swam in the Mediterranean, ran barefoot on the beach, and played with her kids. Thank you for letting me stay and use your computer Melissa!

Sunday, Nov 23, went to Jerusalem to see my third cousin Lev, his parents, wife Steph and newborn daughter Meira. We had dinner at a nice restaurant and then I stayed at the Abraham Hostel in Jerusalem, which is apparently one of the best hostels in the world. Not bad for my first hostel. I highly recommend it. Just don't make the same mistake I did of taking someone's bed on accident (it was early enough I found a new bed and nothing problematic happened). I met some Germans who visited the Holocaust musuem here and asked them if it was too depressing for them, to which they said they responded that they grew up with it and so are used to it.

Hostels being too expensive for someone trying to travel without using money, I found a guy from someone at Abraham Hostel who was open to hosting travelers. Thanks Achia! He has cool story himself, having ran away from his ultra orthodox family as a teen, slept on the streets, and has found his way to a living with a few jobs and apartment in Jerusalem. Over hummus and arak, with a friend of his visiting, we hung out at his place and watched Friends.

Next night I used CouchSurfing to find Avrum, an Australian-Israeli building his own hostel but is letting couchsurfers stay too. Thanks Avrum! I stayed Tue night through Thursday, and met a bunch of cool people. A Norwegian journeyman who rambled about conspiracy theories but is pretty fun to talk to anyway, a British electrician who's helping to wire the house in exchange for living there, a Thai cook who's also doing some sort of helping children here (I think?), American biologists spreading awareness of secret engineered viruses that control the population (I'm skeptical, but ask me if you want to see the abstract), and an American journalist tracking the story of a new director of an Israel-Palestine struggle activist organization.

Thursday evening through Monday morning I stayed with my cousins, and went with them to friends of theirs for Thanksgiving, which was more of a party for the hell of it with lots of desserts and no turkey. Met some cool people there who invited me to an All That's Left (activist organization opposed to the Israeli occupation of Palestine) meeting in Tel Aviv, Thurs Dec 4th. Thank you Lev, Steph, and Meira!

Up until last night when she had to fly home to Montana, Lindsey, my friend from Birthright, was in Jerusalem for a few days with me. We wandered inside the Old City, visited the Israel Musuem where the Dead Sea Scrolls are kept, toured to the Dome of the Rock, went to Shabbat dinner with my cousins, spontaneously ran into our Birthright friend Ben, had lunch with our Birthright medic and guard Yosef who lives in Jerusalem, and spent tons of time in the market, which was a great people watching and good food eating experience. It was great spending time with you, thanks for the being here!

I'm now back at Avrum's place. I had emailed him asking if I could come back. He gave a long response that I thought meant yes. Turns out it was just a question. And I assumed yes. When I showed up he got mad and asked why did I come back without his permission. We settled it though. And I can work here in exchange for staying.

Ok I think that's good for now. Typing this with my thumbs on my iPhone with wifi can only get so eloquent. Please pardon my butchered grammar.  I can add more later. See my pics on Facebook! I upload each night I take pics.

Oh yeah. I need to blog about my past six months of travel. and thank everyone that was involved in that. Next time on Michael's blog!

Edit: Forgot to mention that on my way from my cousin Lev's and back to Avrum's hostel for the second time, I walked by the Israel President's house just to check it out as I was curious. I think they had asked me in Hebrew to stop so they could question me but since I couldn't understand it and didn't realize they were talking to me I kept going. Eventually they caught up and yelled at me, so I turned and said I didn't know much Hebrew. The guard asked for my passport, and had me walk back up closer to the House to question me for maybe 20 minutes. They said my big backpack looked suspicious, so I opened it up and showed them the inside. Since I told them I was visiting my cousin they needed his information to confirm what I said, so they called him up and chatted a bit.