Take Now Thy Son (11/28/2008)

I had promised my friend TJ that I would visit him in Cairo since we graduated college in 2003. Several vacations -- South Africa, New Zealand, the Balkans, and 20 baseball stadiums later -- I finally upheld my promise. In hindsight, I'm glad I held out for so long -- a chance to let the trip marinate, allow the anticipation to build, and read up small fractions of the literature: the Bible to Mark Twain, Lonely Planet to the BBC. A trip through the Holy Land -- a three-week Exodus but-I-crossed-the-Jordan-River-so-take-that-Moses jaunt. This was, and will be, the longest vacation on my life -- in an area where people opine as deeply as anywhere in the world.

Whether you're a religious zealot or passionately atheist, it's hard to put into perspective the influence of the region on the modern world. This is the year 2008 for a reason, and we work five days and rest on Saturday and Sunday for another. The world's largest bestseller is a collection of stories that centers around a carpenter from a hilly town in an otherwise nondescript valley resort town. Laws created in Israel 2000 years ago still influence constitutions that effectively divide church and state.

My three destinations -- Jordan, Israel, and Egypt -- are baby boomers with deep roots (born 1946, 1948, 1956 respectively), each uniquely ancient, each uniquely modern. Histories, images, and prejudices of Egypt and Israel are well documented (Jordan, having been conceived by the pen of the British Empire, gets a relative free pass). The differences are distinct, each with a distinct banquet for the shoestring (well, it would be if the dollar had value) or lavishly spending traveler. For a region plastered in the daily headlines, I not once felt unsafe; and strangely, it wasn't the function of guys -- and girls -- carrying machine guns. Perhaps you know you've been in the Middle East too long when an Uzi doesn't phase you.

Most surprising is the way these three countries completely destroyed my prejudices. The Valley of the Kings isn't littered with gold, and is leg-bendingly hot. King Tut's tomb is ironically tiny. The Egyptian Museum is as organized as Tutmosis' attic. Say what you will about their status as tourist attractions, you still can't put the Pyramids' scale into perspective. Wandering around residential Cairo, away from the tourist traps, is fascinating -- and, for hours, no one will bother you. It is amusing to no end when a herd of camel passes you (on the road) as you walk to the Israeli border. Eilat is tantalizingly similar to Atlantic City. Sitting on a rock where you can see four countries never gets old. "Lawrence of Arabia" can't do the desert justice. Petra is much more open and expansive than "Indiana Jones" leads you to believe. Calls to prayer are glorious ... except outside your hotel room at 4 a.m. You'll never forget sitting in Amman on Tuesday preparing to cross the West Bank on Wednesday, and hearing that Israel and Hamas have struck a cease-fire set to take effect at 6 a.m. ... on Thursday. Israel is far less religious than you'd think... but you still can't replicate the Western Wall on Shabbat. Or Jerusalem on Shabbat for that matter. Or Jerusalem in general. Particularly the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and old, fat Russian tourists with "THIS THING IS BOOTY" t-shirts. Or East Jerusalem on Shabbat, or as they know it, Saturday. Bethlehem's steep hills + donkey = ultimate labor ball. Floating in the Dead Sea is wholly surreal. Having your 58-year old father get you out of bed at 4 a.m. so you can see sunrise from Masada only slightly less so. A cotton Abraham in Beer Sheva is more astounding than Nelson's Column. The Sea of Galilee is remarkably far below sea level. Cana wine is both sweet and dry; who's to say what the "best wine at the party" was? St. Peter's Fish is so underwhelming it's no wonder the guy changed jobs. The Golan Heights is staggeringly craggy; everyone should view the UN's buffer zone between Israel and Syria from Coffee Anan. Getting stuck behind tanks on winding, hilly highways is even cooler, though. Basketball-sized jellyfish are pretty damn intimidating. Driving around Haifa like madmen looking for Elijah's cave is maddening, even before you get tricked into "buying" a bracelet for like $5. But at least you know you've succeeded in getting off the tourist trail, since it's not signed in English. So there. The beachfront in Tel Aviv might as well be Miami. And there is no more ironic way to conclude three weeks in the Holy Land than ... "do you want bacon with that?"

A trip to God's country (the non-West Roxbury version) will shatter your expectations on the roots of Western of civilization, and not to mention, challenge your wits as a traveler. After this, any trip should be icing on the proverbial baklava.