Farming and Food

When I was considering what I’d do during this visit to Israel I had thought I’d cook with people from many different cultures, return to my apartment in Jerusalem, cook foods from those cultures, then shared my experience and recipes with you on my blog.  As usual, things don’t always turn out the way one has planned, and in this case that is true. The issue is that I’m not really cooking very much – it’s very hot here and I’ve pretty much lost my appetite, and I never really figured how to use the oven with confidence.

However, the need to refocus has allowed me to expand my attention beyond just cooking, but also to the foods that are used in making so many delicious and varied meals.  Since I’ve been in the north I’ve gone to three different shuks; the one in Akko I described in the last blog post, and the second, in Haifa, was in an Arab neighborhood called Wadi Nisnas.  I’ll discuss the Nazarath shuk in a future post.  I also spent part of the day at an organic farm. in Kerem Maharal, which is located south of Haifa and north of Zichron Yaakov, in the fertile area of the Carmel Mountains.

Makura Farm is located in the crater of a volcano in the fertile Carmel Mountains south of Haifa near Zichron Yaacov. Guy Rilov, the owner of the farm and whose children and grandchildren grew up on the farm and still live there, generously gave me time from his busy day.  When I first met him and told him I was from Seattle, he laughed and shared that he had just purchased an "anti-frost" machine from Washington State.  

Guy Rilov, owner and CEO

Guy started farming in this location in 1981 and changed to fully organic in 1989 as he learned more and more about the disadvantages of chemical farming.  He uses compost rather than fertilizer, and “beneficial enemies” to protect the orchard from harmful pests.  One hundred percent of the electricity is produced by solar energy.

Guy proudly explained that the farm cultivates approximately 250 of its 400 acres and is fully organic.  The orchards produce olives, Cabernet and Merlot grapes, litchi, avocados and persimmon, with the primary business of the farm is olive oil. There is a winery on the farm that sells wine made from these grapes. Some of the olive trees on this farm are over 1000 years old.  Apparently the first cultivated olives were in northern Israel. The Romans took olives from Israel to two parts of the world – to Greece and Italy and to Northern Africa.

Litchi behind protective netting

Persimmon

Avocado

Merlot grapes

This says Cabernet Savinion

I always wondered how the olives got off the tree without someone climbing up and picking them. Guy showed me  a piece of equipment that was made specifically for Macura that shakes the trees, collects the olives and separates the olives from the non-olive products. He explained that with their system there are only 30 minutes from the time the olives leave the trees until they are actually pressed.  Yes, pressed. Minutes from tree to press is one of their quality measures.  The other is the acidity.  In order for an olive oil to be called “extra virgin” the acidity level must be 0.8 or less.  Macura's olive oil average acidity is 0.17.

Olives

The drip irrigation system, whose timer is fully automated, provides water from a natural spring located on the farm.  This method of irrigation was developed in Israel and is now used widely throughout the world.  

In the last few years Guy dedicated 1.5 across as an educational farm about organic farming and ecology.  With funding from a friend in memory of his son who was killed in the second Lebanon war.  This year over 1000 children came to learn and experience farming.

The educational farm

Just about the food:

I thought it would be fun to show some of the food that I’m seeing in the shuks   Most of it is familiar in one way or another, but in Israel, the varieties are different than what we generally see.  Not only are they interesting to look at but I’ve learned a lot of tidbits about each one.

Fakus is a zucchini like vegetable that looks like cucumber and zucchini in shape and like a cucumber inside.  But the color is much lighter green and it has a bit of a fuzz on its skin.  As with a peach, you can eat the skin.  The taste has a tang, almost tart, which is heightened and improved with a little squeeze of lemon and a few shakes of salt.  Fakus grows primarily in the Galilee and is seen frequently in Arab markets and is used more like cucumbers in cold soups, salads and just plain.  Learn more on the blog Galilee Seasonality from my new friend Abbie Rosner.

 

Cousa is the type of zucchini that is typically used for stuffing in Arab kitchens.  It’s lighter in color, chubbier in size and has a nuttier flavor than regular zucchini.  Cousa originated in Lebanon and is also known as Lebanese zucchini.  For maximum sweetness, Cousa is harvested when it reaches about 15 cm in length (about  6 inches)

Baby Eggplant.  I’ve never seen these in the US, but they’re all over the Arab markets, and are known to be less bitter than eggplants we traditionally use.  They're only 2-3 inches long and even that small are often stuffed.  My lunch with Balkees (see next post) included pickled baby eggplant.

Sabra is the Hebrew word for “prickly pear”  or  “cactus fruit”.  The word sabra is also used to describe native born Israeli’s.  It is said that sabras the fruit and sabras the Israeli’s have in common that they’re tough and thorny on the outside and soft and sweet on the inside.

Melukhia is a Middle Eastern spice used as fresh whole leaves or dried, either crushed or as a powder.  When it’s cooked whole it has a gelatinous texture, and overcooking causes it to congeal at the bottom of the pot.    Melukhia is often made into a sauce and added for flavor to soup.  See the link for an interesting article by an Israeli food blogger, Sarah Melamed.

Taking the malukhia leaves off the vine

Baklawa.  Yes, I spelled it correctly.  Apparently, Baklawa (pronounced “w”, not “v”, is a cateogory of Arab pastry.  Those triangular or square shaped ones that we call “baklava” are only one variety of Baklawa, and they’re called “triangles”.   All over the Middle East baklawa stores sell these beautiful pastries, and I’ve asked multiple times what the different names are – the vendors always say “baklawa”.  Finally in Wadi Nisnas the salesperson in the Baklawa store understood what I was looking for, but he only knew the names in Arabic.  Using “Google Translate”, we learned what the names would be in English.  They seem to be based on shape and probably make more sense in Arabic.  Some of the English names were “triangle”, “shrimp”, “finger”, “Christ Tiles” (squares with cashews on top), and “lips”.  There are many regional varieties all having their own unique ingredients.

 Ending on a sweet note.  

Fertile Land and Security Threats

Monday was the beginning of my adventure to the north of Israel.  Throughout  the last year, whenever I thought of Israel my mind immediately went to the hills and farms of the Galilee and to thee glistening blue water of the Mediterranean Sea.    

Israel is known to have three geographic and climate regions – the desert of the Negev, the fertile mountainous area of the Galilee and the Jezreel Valley, and the coastal plains on its eastern border.  All three regions are very different and in some cases, just minutes apart.  As I headed north toward the Kineret (Sea of Galilee), through the Jordan Valley the surroundings stayed beige for a long time. As in the Negev with its vineyards and olive groves randomly scattered throughout, I began to see groves of  loquat , or Japanese plum trees,  and of mujara date palms that became increasingly frequent as I moved farther north.  I had a hard time identifying the loquat, but as it turns out, Israel is its second highest producer after Japan.  

Miraculously once I left Tiberius and rounded the northern Kineret, driving toward Tsvat everything was green.  It was as if we had entered a totally different part of the world. The Jezreel Valley, separating the hills of the Galilee and those of Samaria, is Israel’s richest agricultural area, providing fruits, cheese from several types of milk producing animals, olives and olive oil, herbs and spices and more for Israel and beyond.

I stopped briefly in Tsfat to visit a cheese farm.   The destination farm was closed for tasting but I did find another cheese maker nearby - Kadosh cheeses.  The present owner, Shlomo Kadosh, explained that his great-great-grandfather came to Tsfat at age 12 and decided to become a cheese maker.  He wandered among Arab villages learning to make cheese.   In the tasting room the extensive varieties of cheeses made from goat and sheep milk, including Kashkaval, Pecorino, Roquefort, a cheese flavored with Merlot wine and a salty cheese called “Tsfat” were attractively displayed along with olives, olive oils and halava. 

Because I had gotten lost both getting out of Jerusalem and leaving Tiberius,wasting close to 2 hours, and I was expected in Nehariya, I was way behind schedule and didn’t have time to make any other stops.      I did not find the GPS that came with the rental car to be as helpful as I had hoped and I ended up going in the wrong directions several times.   It didn’t read several intersections, and couldn’t identify my destination address at all.  I’m sure some inaccurate response to the GPS instructions may have had some influence on my getting lost.

Yehudit and Yossi's back yard

Andrea has been raving about Yehudit Ben Dak, the mother of one of her good friends from Hebrew University six years ago, and insisted that when I came to Israel I had to meet her and see the Mediterranean from their home in Nehariya.  Yehudit and I clicked like sisters – we have a lot in common, and like our daughters, have enjoyed our time together.   She is a Sabra, having been born in Israel, and was anxious to show me her part of the country.  Yehudit and Yossi live ON the beach – apparently their house is closer to the sea than any other house on the Israel coast.

Yehudit, her friend Esther and I visited the shuck at Akko in the morning. Akko was conquered by the Crusaders in the 12^th century and again in the 13^th century. Formerly part of what was known as Greater Syria, whichd included Syria, Lebanon and Palestine, Akko is one of the oldest port cities in the world, and is also the home to marinas where fisherman supply fresh food from the sea on a daily basis.  Jews, Christians and Muslims successfully co-exist in this town that has a vast history that includes the Crusaders, the Byzantines, Romans, Ottomans and British.   In the last ten years, many areas of Akko have been excavated and conserved. The old city of Akko was recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site.

In the shuck (marketplace) colorful food, merchandise stalls and intimate eateries are concentrated throughout ancient pathways.   A small table was set up outside the main area, closer to the marina, where two men were quickly and skillfully cleaning small fishes called “barbounia” for a restaurant in Nahariya .  Barbounia  is a small Mediterranean red mullet that is known to be one of the tastiest fishes.   The fishes were scaled, had their organs removed, rinsed and gently placed in a container for transport.  

Deeb Bader, the owner of the Bader Coffee Shop in the market, was born in Akko, as were his parents and grandparents.  He lived in the US for many years as a young adult but returned  to Akko with his family so his children could grow  up in the environment of their native culture.  Deeb imports coffee beans from all over the world and roasts them in his small shop once a week.  Customers line up to buy his coffee, either as whole beans, ground, or prepared to drink.  The distinctive aromas of the different beans fill the air. 

We joined the group of people waiting to get into Said, a popular hummuseria in the shuk.  Said has been around since 1971 and serve a limited menu which is popular with both tourists and natives.  They serve from the morning until they run out of hummus, usually around 2:00 PM.  The small eatery has stations set up to efficiently chop vegetables, prepare hummus, plate and serve the food.  I tried a new food called “mushawsha”, a warm variation of hummus, with extra tehina and chickpeas. It was delicious.  Since we weren’t that hungry, but HAD to try this restaurant, we shared a single bowl of some each of hummus and mushawsha.  

In the afternoon we went to Rosh Hanikra, the town farthest north on the western side of Israel and on the border with Lebanon and in a magnificent location on the Mediterranean. Yehudit and Yossi live in Nahariya,  only several miles from Rosh Hanikra, where the population and tourism have decreased over the last decade due to the constant missile threat.

Looking at the water through a grotto

One of the attractions are Rosh Hanikra are grottos that naturally formed inside the bedrock of the huge cliffs from the power of the waves continuously hitting against the massive rocks for thousands of years.  Combined with a series of underground shocks and raindrops penetrating the areas of separation in the bedrock, natural sea caves began to form.  I took a cable car down and walked through the 200 meter length of the path of the grottos, at one point getting soaked from the intense spray of the waves.

The power of the waves

During World War II and prior to the recognition of the State of Israel, the British, with soldiers from many countries, blasted railway tunnels through the rock to be used for transporting arms between Cairo and Istanbul.  The tunnels also served to bring hundreds of Jews, literally underground, to Palestine from Europe.  The tunnel was eventually blasted closed by the Jewish underground fighters to prevent passage of the Lebanese through the tunnel during the War of Independence in 1948.  

It was fascinating and concerning to be here where the history and the present time are so significant in the security, independence and survival of the State of Israel.

There's No Place Like Home

I was in Greece for 9 days.  When I arrived on Sunday, June 16th I hardly knew what to expect, having heard mixed reports.  Most people told me that Athens was hardly worth a visit and to spend as little time there as possible – that it was dirty and nothing much to see.  Only one person raved about it.  She loves the history and the ruins in and around Athens and couldn’t speak more highly of the city. I went with an open mind.  I found a combination of both.

I had rented an apartment through AirBNB for four nights.  As the taxi entered the neighborhood the driver commented that this was a dangerous neighborhood, that I should not be out after dark by myself and to be careful showing signs of being a tourist, such as using a map and a camera.  This started a level of anxiety for the first 36 hours that was indescribable and unshakable.    

The neighborhood was one of many immigrants, primarily from the Middle East, but lacked the beauty and interest of the various ethnicities. With businesses closed on Sunday there was very little activity.   There were, however, plenty of seedy looking men just hanging out on the streets where I had to walk to get to more populated locations.   I couldn’t ignore the comment made by my cab driver and was very, very nervous especially leaving and returning to the apartment for dinner. The next day was Monday and the streets and neighborhoods were hopping, and I felt much better.  I found “the other side” of Athens which was actually quite lovely.  The city had gone through a comprehensive makeover in preparation for the 2004 Olympics, and there were several neighborhoods that had unique and interesting personalities.

One place I went to on Monday was the Athens Central Market. The Greeks are big meat eaters, and there are more meat vendors in this market than every other type added together.  “Butcher Rows” as I’d call them contained easily 20-30 individual meat vendors.  My first vision was of several skinned rabbits hanging on hooks with fur remaining on their tails and paws remaining.  The farther I journeyed into these rows the more I was grossed out by other animals hanging on hooks – with and without their fur.  Yuck!  I not only didn’t take anymore pictures, I deleted the one of the rabbits – poor bunnies.

The rest of the market had similar fare as many others in the Mediterranean, but I had the most fun buying olives – I think the guy in the olive market thought I was crazy when I said I wanted 5 olives of 5 different types, rather than a specific weight of any one type. There were so many to choose from. He was very accommodating and offered his suggestions about the five different types to choose.  He was also very cute.

Many kinds of olives

My patient olive guy

  

 Andrea was arriving at 3:00 AM Tuesday morning.  She has traveled all over the world but this was a country where we didn’t know the language, and she was arriving at night to a neighborhood that was less than desirable.  Additionally, our communication technology was not reliable – so how would I know when she arrived by taxi at the apartment. The cab driver that had originally brought me from the airport was very nice and we arranged that he would pick Andrea up from the airport.  Although I thought that was a good idea originally, I could not get rid of my anxiety around her arrival at the apartment.  I finally decided that I needed to go to the airport with him to meet her.   The driver picked me up at 2:00 AM and once she arrived and  I saw her walk through the gate I finally felt better.    Now I started to enjoy Greece.

We started our day on the little balcony of our apartment with breakfast of tomatoes and cucumbers, cheese and olives I had purchased at the Central Market the previous day.  

The Olympics and Greek flags

    

Where's my king?

Andrea and I are both big sports enthusiasts, hence our mutual selection of the original Olympic Stadium as our favorite among all the sites we visited in Greece.   This stadium was build to host the first “modern” Olympic games in 1896.  As we walked around the stadium that holds 80,000 spectators in seats of marble, we could imagine the king and queen of Greece sitting in the special seats constructed for their “comfort” and clear view of the activities.  The fact that the father of one of Andrea’s co-workers had actually pole vaulted in front of the Greek royalty many years  ago added a little bit of extra excitement to the visit.  

We imagined the events that have occurred in this stadium over the last century with the cheering and celebration by the large crowds. As we walked through the long tunnel from which the athletes enter the stadium we both recalled our participation in the Maccabee Games in Baltimore in 2002 with Andrea as an athlete and me as the delegation head, and the thrill of  proudly marching out onto the field representing our city. 

We started our visit to the top Acropolis late in the afternoon in order to avoid the intense

The Parthenon

heat of the day, and it was still plenty hot.  Armed with our hats and water we trekked up the hills and stairs leading to the plateau.  There was quite a bit of restoration going on throughout the entire site, which we recognize as important, but somehow it made it harder to let our imaginations take us back to the ancient era when there was so much historical activity occurring.  It was a surprise and somewhat of a disappointment to find the Parthenon largely encased in scaffolding for its restoration, which was scheduled to have been completed in 2009.  

The view from the top, however, was spectacular, enabling us to see the expanse of the city of Athens and beyond, including the Temple of Zeus which I had visited the day before.  One tidbit of information we learned was that there is a law in Athens that prevents the construction of any buildings higher than the Acropolis.  

View of the Temple of Zeus from the Acropolis

Close your eyes!

Early Wednesday morning we left Athens and took off for our much-anticipated trip to Santorini    We boarded a high speed ferry which took just under three hours. 

We want to officially give credit to the bus drivers on Santorini for keeping us alive.  Being at sea level, the ports of all of the islands are at the bottom of hills.  In order to get into Fira, the main town the buses drive up very windy, narrow roads during which we were positive we would fall of the edge of the road.  Imagine busses going up these roads, with cars and other busses coming the other direction. These were “eyes closed” rides.

We had many memorable moments and observations in Santorini but what we will remember most is the indescribable beauty of the island and its environs. Santorini is an extremely hilly island and the towns are at the top of the very high hills and extend down the sides toward the volcano.   Lots and lots of steps to get anywhere and everywhere.  Santorini is not the location of choice for people with bad knees – even those who have had knee replacements - but it was worth it!

View from the top of the volcano

One day we took a sailboat to the volcano where we hiked to the top over paths of black lava, then sailed to hot springs where we swam in water heated by the internal energy of the volcano which is close to 1000 degrees centigrade. The view from the top of the crater across the water to Santorini island was breathtaking.

Black sand beach

Due to the volcano’s influence the island is not well known for its beaches - they are very rocky and gravelly.  We did go to the black sand beach where we found find that we could still enjoy the sunshine, beautiful scenery and clear, bright blue water, despite the rocky entrance required before finding the flat sandy surface 10-12 feet into the water from the shore.

The island is also known for its sunsets.  It was hard to imagine anything more beautiful than the sunset in the main town of Fira, where we ate our first dinner and had our first sunset siting.  We went to the town of Oia (pronounced “ee-a”) one evening to see the more famous sunset and found the colors to be even more spectacular.  The pinks and orange hues continued well beyond the completion of its descent for at least an hour.  We figured out that we’d seen sunsets in every city we visited, but the one in Oia was by far the best.

One of the many beautiful sunsets

Oia is also the location of the white buildings and blue domed churches that represent Santorini in Web sites, tour books and travel brochures.  It looks just like the pictures.  Another tidbit - reasons for the colors.  In addition to white reflecting the heat, white is the color of lime, and when mixed with water it naturally disinfects the rainwater that was collected on the rooftops.  Also during the 400 year Ottoman occupation Greeks were not allowed to fly their blue and white flag.  Painting the domes blue was the way that the village demonstrated their defiance and showed their colors.  (We still haven't figured out why the domes in Mykonos are red!)

Oia, Santorini - this is a real photograph

Our final two days were spent in Mykonos, which is quite different from Santorini.  The topography is much different – it’s much less hilly, has sandy, beautiful beaches and there less to see and do than Santorini.  

The beach at Mykonos

The beach is life and we had no problem with this.  We stayed in Mykonos town for the two days and had the choice of many different beaches, all connected by frequent bus service.  We tried two very different beaches, both having comfortable lounge chairs, sunshine and warm,  clear blue water.  The differing shades of blue were fascinating and made the vision even more stunning.

Bus service to the beaches from the main town of Mykonos starts very early in the morning and doesn’t end until after midnight.  This is a party island.  Paradise is the party beach, but now there’s a new beach called “Super Paradise” that seems to be the place to go, and it’s only accessible by boat.   I appreciated that Andrea was willing to have a late dinner, walk around the town and save the partying for her friends.  After all, no one handed ME any party brochures!

Evening quiet in Mykonos - no parties here

Oh – can't forget the food.  Every meal was simple, nothing fancy, and so fresh. Choices of mezas were extensive everywhere and there was no problem finding meat-free options. The new foods that we tried and loved included tomato croquettes, fava spread (on one menu called “mushed fava ), fresh yogurt with quince preserves, and a beet, garlic and yogurt dip that was served in several different restaurants, each in a different form.  Santorini is known for its produce, including the tiniest little tomatoes in the same shape as our usual grocery store tomatoes – but much smaller, much redder and much sweeter.   We had a fish dish in Mykonos that was so fantastic that I asked for and received the recipe – sea bass with tehini, stuffed with spinach.  Another amazing sea bass preparation was with a very thin mashed potato crust, and mashed potatoes pureed with celery. No restaurant food pictures – you’ll have to just wait to taste.

I found Greece to be a difficult place walk around in. Short of the beauty of the islands, the beaches and the food, it was a scary place.  Roads are narrow and drivers are crazy!!!  Really. There is no such thing as right of way, slowing down or stopping for pedestrians, particularly on the islands, but also in the city.  We saw no stop signs on Santorini or Mykonos; the drivers just go.  They don’t stop for anything.  Rental ATV’s and mopeds are everywhere, so you never know when either of these or a car might be coming down the road or around the corner.  We were very surprised that we didn’t see or weren't the victims of any pedestrian / motor vehicle accidents while we were there. 

Our final journey in Greece other than our ride to the airport was our return from Mykonos to Athens by overnight ferry. Little had we known that Monday was a holiday in Greece – the best explanation we got was that it was celebrating “spirit” in Greece – so we tried to be happy.   However, all of the ferries were sold out on Monday and we had flights on Tuesday afternoon and evening.  Our ferry left Mykonos at 1:10 AM.  Or I should say it was scheduled to leave at 1:10 AM.  Life is loose in Greece.  Everything is “on or about”.  This was true with busses, ferries, and other forms of transportation.  So we weren’t surprised that the ferry didn’t leave on time.  By 1:10 AM there was still no ferry to be seen.  There were many people waiting, including a lot of kids between 18-25.  I told Andrea it reminded me of the days of traveling through Europe on a Eur-rail pass (1972) with only a back pack, traveling at night to avoid spending precious days on trains. Here we were, sitting on the curb, waiting for the ferry to arrive.

Greece is also not very organized. If you know me at all, you know that I prefer order to chaos.  This was a big adjustment.  When the ferry arrived, the entire crowd rushed to the gangplank.  Every ticket needed to be checked and each person directed - and everyone in the crowd pushes to get ahead.  A second entrance was finally opened, but we had to carry our luggage up several flights of stairs in order to go to the “reception” desk to be directed to our cabin – we and hundreds of other people. 

We did finally get to our cabin which with two beds was pretty comfortable. We both slept for 5-6 hours, arriving in Piraeus (the Athens port) at 8:00 AM.  The same several hundred people crowded the stairwells to get down the steps and off the ferry.

I finished writing this post from the Aegean Airlines lounge at the airport where I had food, drink, Internet and relative quiet, waiting for my flight back to Israel.  I went to the airport early with Andrea.  I'm now back in Israel, where despite still not understanding the language very well, I do feel at home.

Almost Had to Convert to Russian Orthodoxy

This week I returned to Ein Keram in the Judean Hills. The last time I was there was early in my trip when I came to make kubbeh with Dahlia, but hadn't had time to explore the village.  

This day was very hot, and the area is very dry.  There are lots of hills, and I actually like climbing hills.  This Russian Orthodox monastery is at the top of the highest hill in the area.  It's beautiful and just stands out like a sparkling diamond.  I HAD to see it up close.

Reading the very simple map of the town I started following the road up the hill toward the church.  The higher I got, the more difficult it was to actually see my target which was hiding within the trees.  But I kept going, passing St Vincent's of Ein Keram, passing the Ein Keram youth hostel. 

Very old olive trees

I saw an open green gate with a sign for a convent, not a monastery, so I kept going until the road ended. Still not finding my destination I descended back to the convent and the open gate, and walked in to beautiful grounds with small cottages scattered throughout where the nuns live, each surrounded by beautiful gardens. Ancient terraces sprouted olive and almond trees.  The road narrowed but didn't flatten out.  There were no other "civilians" on the grounds, but none of the nuns stopped or questioned me.  I didn't realize they didn't speak Hebrew, so when I asked about the "church gadol" and each one pointed and directed me to follow the path UP the hill,  I thought they understood was I was asking for.

This was a long climb and I was tempted to stop several times;  my water bottle was just about half full, and it was hot. But I was determined to get to the top and now I could see the monastery peeking out through the trees - still higher than I was.

I finally reached the top, thankful to see a bathroom.  After taking advantage of my find, I walked around the building and admired the surroundings.  I looked out to see the town which seemed much smaller than when I left it.  The other sign I saw was one that clearly said "No Uncovered Legs or Arms inside the Church.  Since I was wearing shorts and a tank top I wasn't able to see the inside.  At that point, although I was enjoying the beautiful view and the beautiful building I was ready to leave - I was hot and tired.

Getting down was faster and easier than getting up.  I passed the cottages, passed the gardens, passed the small church lower on the hill and walked toward the green gate, which was now closed and locked!  What do I do?  


The stone wall on the inside of the gate was about three feet high and there was shrubbery behind the wall that continued to the other side.  I thought I'd just climb over the wall, work my way to the other side of the gate, then climb back down.  I was confident that I could do that.

I hoisted myself up and over the wall (thank you to Debbie Sanders for helping me have very strong arms) and worked my way through the brush, which included some very sharp thorns.  When I reached the other side of the gate, I realized that the road had descended but the wall had not, leaving about a 6-8 foot drop.  There was no way I could successfully tackle that!   So I returned to my starting place, retracing my steps through the thorny brush.

The outside of the gate - with very high walls

The only remaining option was to walk back and find one of the sisters to let me out.  I knocked on the doors of several of the cottages - no answer.  Continuing my search I heard voices in the basement of one of the larger communal buildings.  There was an open window and seeing several women inside I tried to communicate my situation to them. Whether or not they understood me, I don't know. I do know that I did not understand them.   As it turns out, the residents of this convent only speak Russian - no Hebrew.  And I know less Russian than I do Hebrew. 

One finally came out and escorted me into the building which housed the dining room for the community. There were several very, very long tables with food and drinks, and only a few people in the room eating and drinking.  Of course the people in the room did not understand a thing I was saying. No one offered me food.  I didn't think it was a good idea to take pictures, but I did get up the nerve to ask to fill my water bottle.

Finally using hand motions, I was able to communicate that I was locked inside the grounds. Someone got a key and handed it to a very stern, official looking nun (like the Mother Nun in the Sound of Music), who walked me to the gate and let me out. She never said a word.  

I quickly descended the hill back into town, got a nana lemonade and found the bus to take me back home.   Did I say I was very hot and tired?