ethiopians soldiers and turks

Ethiopians, Soldiers, and Turks

All right. Three more stories from Eilat:

1. While staying at the Shelter (the name of our hostel), a man I did

not know came up to me and asked me to play backgammon with him. I

told him that I was not very good, and that he would have to remind me

of the rules, but that I'd love to play. He said he wasn't very good

either and that it would be fun. One of those things was a lie, one

was the truth.

Backgammon is popular game in the Arab world, so I can reasonably be

expected to lose when playing against an Arab man. Also, the game was

invented by the Turks, so I would be even more expected to lose to a

Turkish man when playing him. Finally, I have only played the game

with Fro 3 times.

Really, I thought that backgammon was a game of luck, but it was as if

I was playing chess against Bobby Fischer. Bobby could tell me all the

hints and tips he wanted, he could even tell me what moves to make

half the time, but he would still destroy me like Tyson destroyed

Peter McNeely. However, I am proud to be able to say that I played

backgammon with a Turk.

2. We have a guidebook for Israel and the Palestinian Territories that

is about 6 years old. This leads us to some places that no longer

exist. For example, we tried to find a pub near the hostel section of

town in Eilat, but couldn't find it anywhere. Across the street from

where we were trying to go, there was a small bar with music blaring

out if it. We decided to wander in, and fortune smiled upon us.

It turned out to be a restaurant/bar run by Ethiopian Jews. There was

only one other white guy in the place and I think he was the owner or

the manager or something. Our first night in the place, we had just

eaten dinner, but one of the Ethiopian men literally forced food into

our mouths (when I say literally, I mean it. I held the food in his

hand, refused to let me take it with my hand, and forced it into my

mouth). It was great, but we were so full that there was not way we

could eat more than one bite. Sarah couldn't even handle that much.

She made me eat most of hers.

The next night, we went back to the same place for dinner. The food

was really intense, and it made a very powerful impression on my

stomach. I am used to eating Arab food, which is no light fare, and

this still felt incredible heavy. It was also bursting with flavor. As

we ate, the Ethiopians watched and corrected our eating style, and

interrupted us every two or three bites to ask if we liked the food.

It was really fun.

After we had finished eating, the music really started cranking, and

one particularly gregarious man (the one who had forced food into our

mouths the night before) convinced us to get up a dance in the middle

of the restaurant with him and some of the other men. So there we

were, three white folks from the US, dancing in between the tables at

an Ethiopian restaurant to some sort of music that sounded like a mix

between Busta Rhymes, Tribal Beats, and Raffi. (Alright, everything

will be alright, we can make it/ Alright, everything will be alright,

we can make it).

We were there for about 2.5 hours, and we only left because the hostel

had a curfew. When we tried to leave, the other patrons of the

restaurant tried every trick in the book to keep us there. I ended up

arguing with them in the street on our way out, trying to convince

them that we really had to leave, or else we would be locked out of

our hostel.

As we were arguing, one of the men ran into the bar (I knew where he

was going) and came running out with a beer for each of us to walk

back to the hostel with. (This is allowed in Israel). Finally, we were

able to leave . . . But I am sure we will be back, God willing.

3. One morning, Jesse, Som, and I got up early to hike in the Negev.

We took a bus out to the spot where the trail began, but we could not

get a bus back after we were finished with the hike. We decided to

hitch back. As we were walking, we came across a checkpoint that was

manned by Israeli soldiers. They stopped every car heading back to

Eilat, and asked if they would give us a ride. They first promised to

find a car full of beautiful, single girls, but later we convinced

them that we would be happy to ride back with anybody that would give

us a ride.

Jesse and Som got a ride fairly early on, but there were only two

seats, so I waited with the Soldiers for another 45 minutes or so.

They offered me water, coke, sunflower seeds, and cookies. They asked

me what music I liked and tried to give me their Ipod to use, and they

constantly tried to make sure that I was as comfortable as possible.

At one point, a soldier who was stationed a little bit away from the

check point began to sing "Good Morning Beautiful" by Steve Holy,

followed by "You'll Be In My Heart." (The Phil Collins song from

Tarzan). The other soldiers started making requests, and even put in

my request for some Cat Stevens, but apparently, his Ipod was only

stocked with cheesy love songs in English.

My perspective and attitude toward Israeli solders (as people) has

really been impacted by this encounter. It was the first time I have

interacted with soldiers who did not have reason to suspect or be

frustrated with me.

The enduring image of this trip may indeed be dancing in the Ethiopian

restaurant. I know that I will never get that song out of my head, and

I pray that I will be able to return to that place. Israel is quite a

unique place. The blend of cultures, religions, and languages makes it