First Shabbat in Israel

Normally, Friday is the start of the weekend here in Israel; but as I am planning to take a little time off next week, I decided to go into work in the morning. I'm glad I did, because I was back in the 'major' section, where things were very busy. An Arab man with parotid cancer, pneumonia and UTI, who brought an entire family of unfriendly people along... I'll have to tell you a story about a similar situation one of the Doctors experienced.

After several sets of bloods, a catheterisation, and farewells to Nurit, an intern who is transferring to another department, I headed off to the new Jerusalem train station, to catch my train to Netanya, where I was planning to spend the weekend in a friend's family's apartment.

Despite my internet checking, I arrived to find the entire station compeltely closed for maintenance. That's a bit annoying because the station is right out on the southern outskirts of the city. I could have opted for a cheaper, faster bus, but thought that it'd be nice to try something new. After an hour of inner city traffic to the central bus station, during which my bus crashed, I transferred to the packed bus to Netanya, full of people heading there for the weekend. But, I had time to indulge in a supersized, kosher double hot dog with large fries - something I haven't had in years. Not easy to find a kosher hot dog stall in the UK!

Aaron's apartment in Netanya is great - right on the cliff front, overlooking the sea; I arrived just as the sun was heading down to the Med, had a quick shower and headed off to synagogue for Kabbalat Shabbat - the prayers and songs that bring in Shabbat.

The last time I was in Netanya for any length of time was in March 2002. I was meant to be staying in a Hotel there over Passover, with my parents, who were planning to visit me. Through fate, we postponed our stay there by a couple of days, which was a blessing. The Park Hotel is famous for being the site of the suicide bomb that claimed the highest number of victims - more than 30 people were killed and 100 injured on that night. The week of the bomb, I went to the same synagogue as I visited this time. I think that attending that shul was one of the most depressing points of my gap year. Passover celebrates the exodus of the Jewish nation, from Egypt and slavery, to freedom in their homeland of Israel. But in this Anglicised area, where the synagogue announcements are made in English, I was so dismayed to hear the warning 'please don't congregate outside the synagogue; make a speedy exit in small groups.'. This is Israel, but in 2001, Jews here had to live in the same fear as they do in the UK. It's only because of the security wall that life has returned to some degree of normality in Netanya.

That said, it was still one of the most depressing services I've ever been to; out of the hundred or so people there, so could count on one hand the number of people singing along.

Anyhoos, back to the point.

Staying with Aaron were four fellow medical students, who had been on their elective in Nazareth hospital. As the birthplace of Chrisitianity, you may expect that the sort of students who go there for electives could be religious Christians, and you'd be right. Aaron and I were joined by Kathryn, Kathryn and Jo, two of whom were the daughters of Missionary workers. In their own words, they became our 'shabbos goys'. Because of the restrictions placed on Jews on Shabbat, such as being unable to cook, travel etc, the girls ended up waiting on us, hand and foot. Obviously, Aaron and I objected. Ahem.

It's quite rare to have a freshly cooked meat meal on Friday night, fully kosher, but prepared by three Christian girls. I think I'll use that one, next time I play 'I have never'.

In order to burn off the calorific meal, Aaron and I headed off on a night-time jog along the coast, defying death with our avoidance of the numerous smouldering bonfires abandoned by secular Israelis who had been out for the evening, and rocks fallen from the cliffs. Both of us survived with ankles intact.

Next day however, all of the Nazareth crew awoke to find they had 'N and D' (Nausea and Diarrhoea); thankfully I was fine, so that pretty much ruled out gastroenteritis... a spot diagnosis of Giardiasis was made by one of the more hypochondriacal of the group; this is a parasitic infection, which takes several weeks to develop; pretty much unheard of in Israel, I wouldn't have considered it possible for a second, until Aaron recalled that they had all gone swimming in a pool, to find what seemed to be a dead sheep under the surface.

Despite the risk of polluting the Med with fecal matter, we went swimming in the sea in the afternoon, where a particularly violent wave managed to snap the elastic of my shorts, leaving me in a rather compromised situation several times.

After a superb 'Business meal' (see review), I said bye bye to my new found friends and headed off.