There's No Place Like Home

And just like that. I'm back at home.

I'm jetlagged. And cranky. I managed to sleep through nine of the ten hours of flight time. But I need a nap.

Love and hugs to everyone who took time out to read this crazy online bloggy diary thing. I loved all of your comments and questions. Speaking of which....

My boy e-z b-z wanted to know what kind of animals I saw in Israel. Great question. The place is completely overrun by stray dogs and cats. They don't have animal control or a pound so unwanted cats and dogs just hang out near restaurants. And even dogs who are pets have the run of the streets. It was insane...

My friend "ME" wanted to know if they had a room 666 in the hotel where I stayed in room 1313. I checked. And they did.

Felix wanted to know if Israel was as tense as it is portrayed in television, specifically at The G Spot, the hip-hop club I went to. The answer? In Tel Aviv, it's like my Aunt Janet said, you'd think you were in Paris or New York. No tension. Not much security. (Although every restaurant does check your purse). At The G Spot, they didn't even put me through a metal detector, although they did at the techno/house music club. Go figure.

Aunt Janna asked if it was true that Ethiopians were the largest group of emigres to Israel. And the answer to that is a resounding yes! They are coming over in droves. At this point, the country is trying to limit the amount. And some people from Ethiopia are pretending to be Jews just to escape the poverty in their own country!

My friend "ME" also wanted to know if they supply you with pen and paper at the Western Wall to write a prayer. I got my paper from a random plastic chair that was near the wall. I'm not sure if it was supplied by the keepers of the wall, if there is such a thing. And I wondered the same thing about the prayers. I looked closely and there were thousands of scraps of paper inside. I could barely find a place to stick my paper. I think they must clean them out periodically. But I don't like to think that it works like that. Seems really cheesy.

And "Me" also asked if I could make my final blog entry a re-cap of questions that people asked about my trip... Well. Here ya go.

Oh, and that guy in the picture? That's Avi, my intrepid and patient tour guide for this trip. He's from Jerusalem. (And won't let anyone forget it). He doesn't like Tel Aviv, with it's fancy schmancy beach culture. He was very helpful. However, he refused to let me break the itinerary to buy some stamps. So for those of you who didn't get postcards from me. It's Avi's fault.
-A

P.S. I will be traveling to New Orleans--TOMORROW--to interview an American Idol. Can you guess which one? I haven't even caught my breath from one trip. And I'm off to the next. Whee.

Stay tuned.

Comments

[Leslie]

i am so mad at Avi for not letting you buy stamps. SO MAD.

[mobius]

they actually clean the cracks in the wall out with a power washer every few months and then trash all the notes.

it's ok -- god saw you writing them.