On a sherut to Jerusalem (It’s Easter Sunday) I am musing over the memories of the weekend. Spring time in Tel Aviv means the hordes of people take over the beach. Bikini clad- every old and new bathing suit style since 1920 can be seen on the sandy stretches lining the Mediterranean. Men sporting banana hammocks gather crowds while smacking paddle balls back and forth in designated sidewalk area’s. The constant ping and pong echo from Jaffo all the way to North Tel Aviv. Police officers patrol the sidewalks on rollerblades gliding on the top of the pavement like pretend grown-ups on a power trip. We laid on the crunchy sand til sunset meeting Itay’s friends and soaking in long anticipated sun rays.
The night before was tons of fun, but a little fuzzy from French Riesling, we walked 10 blocks to meet everyone for Asian-fusion cuisine. Devouring whole bowls of food, from appetizers to entrées I think only one person actually finished their food. We sluggishly made our way to an alternative bar on Basil Street with great music from all genres and plenty of beer on tap. Talking with people about their different reasons for being in Israel and crazy stories from where everyone comes from kept us up all night. By the end, I ended up explaining the basics of Christianity to some friends who didn’t understand the differences between Protestants and Catholics and were curious about the role of the Pope and the history of hierarchy in the Church.
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