Toda Raba Dudes

"One of the characters asked a death stewardess if he would get to Heaven and she told him that of course he would. He asked if he would see God, and she said, ‘Certainly, honey.’

And he said, ‘I sure hope so. I want to ask Him something I never was able to find out down here.’

‘What’s that?’ she said, strapping him in.

‘What in hell are people for?’” K.Vonnegut, God bless you Mr Rosewater

I met Bertrand on the steps leading to a small hostel in Old Jerusalem, not far from Jaffa Gate. He approached me to ask if I knew where he could find something to eat. I answered that there was a falafel and pretzel stall nearby. But it didn’t end there. We established that we lived in the same city. We quickly trespassed the murky terrains of the usual travellers’ small talk. When he expressed his desire to visit Gaza Strip, I sensed that a truly rare specimen just landed on my doorstep (divine intervention maybe?) – a like-minded, hard-core, fearless traveller; an extinct kind – and I’d rather go and try to drown myself in the Dead Sea than let that one go! I shared my travel plans with the pleasant Frenchie and didn’t hesitate a second before asking him to join me. Now, I’m usually not that forward with people. Like, really really. Especially the male kind. The only other occasion of such an aggressive behaviour that I recall was when I met Olli. That was six years ago and Olli has been one of the bestest friends since.

So with Bertrand mightily jetlagged (having just arrived in the Eretz) and just as overwhelmed by my enthusiasm, I had every right to expect that he wouldn’t call me the next day. But he did!

A few days later I walked into my room at Abraham Hostel after a brief stay in Tel Aviv, to see a new addition to our merry bunch perched on one of the lower bunks – and A. upon her with a fanatic glint in her eyes.

“So, I thought about death” she was saying “or pondered death…oh, not like that!” she stopped herself, seeing the bewildered look upon the lovely face of the newcomer.

“Hi everyone!” I exclaimed “I’m back!”

A. duly introduced us, and this is how I met Samira. As she told me later, she was awash with relief upon my appearance in the room. It distracted A. from impending Christian indoctrination, which was something that Samira, having just spent the whole day with a dude who claimed to be the second incarnation of Jesus, had really had enough of.

Samira, Bertrand and I went on a day trip together. We climbed the mountain over Masada at sunrise. We frolicked in a waterfall in the Ein Gedi reserve. We covered ourselves in mud and floated blissfully in the Dead Sea. And we had absolute ball the whole day long. We laughed, laughed and laughed. When the trip came to an end, we felt like we’d known each other at least several lifetimes; we didn’t want to part. “We make a good team” said Samira. We were giddy with the discovery: we’ve found perfect travel buddies at last.

Ah, the blessedness of meeting people on the road. You bond so quickly and so intensely. There is a fast track of sharing life stories and intimacy, necessitated by the demands of being in each other’s company and dealing with practicalities of travelling, 24/7. There is fierce beauty to these strong but fleeting connections. You know you’ll have to part soon, which allows your heart to open somehow more fully, to be more present and more giving.

The three of us went to the Negev Desert together. A hell of a trip! We formed a united front against a sexually frustrated voyeur Beduin that happened to be our host. The night under the stars was one of the most mystical experiences I’ve had up to date. So was the drive back to Mitzpe Ramon (six of us in a five-person car, Samira and I squashed together on the passenger seat) with a bunch of mad Americans (a pastor amongst them). Oh, maybe I’m pushing it a bit with the mystical, but it sure was very enlivening.

Bertrand and I travelled to Palestine. Twice. Again it was fun. And educational.

Samira and Bertrand went to Tel Aviv together. Not my story to tell, but I can vouch that fun was also had.

Now they’re both gone, back home, to their friends and stories. And Israel is not the same without them. These short few days were enough to recognize their beauty, their sensitivity, their inner wisdom and strength. Thanks for sharing, my friends. Keep journeying with open hearts. “God loves us”

Till we meet again.

Maybe this is what people are for? To be with other people.