We visited the Children's museum in Holon, outside of Tel Aviv. There were two exhibits we saw, or rather didn't see. The first exhibit simulated being blind. Our guide was blind, and when we walked into the dark room I kept expecting my eyes to adjust but they didn't. None of us could really get over the feeling of complete vulnerability, in which we had to rely on someone to lead us using only their voice. There were several rooms we walked through, the first was just an empty room so we could get used to walking with our hands out in front of us. The second room was a dock where we sat on a boat. The next room was a city street with a car parked. Then we went into a market full of vegetable bins and carts. All the sounds were amplified and we had to listen to the noises and try to picture what we heard. Then we went into a quiet music room with elevator music playing, and we got to relax and lay on the floor. I didn't notice just how noisy it was in the previous rooms until I got to the quiet music room, and it was a relief to be there, less stressful. The last room we visited was a cafeteria in which we could purchase a snack or drink and we had to figure out how much money to give them in the dark, and then sit and eat or drink in the dark. It was really incredible, and as we walked through all the rooms, I couldn't get over the irrational fear that I was going to hit my head on something, so I walked around ducking my head the whole time.
The second exhibit we visited was a simulation of being deaf. Our guide was deaf, and we had to wear huge ear phones so that we couldn't hear anything, even though we could a little bit. This wasn't as cool as the blind simulation, but it was fun. For most of the tour we had to learn to use exaggerated facial expressions and hand motions to convey what we wanted to say.
I always thought that if I had to choose between being blind or deaf, that I would rather be blind, because there would be no point in living if I couldn't listen to music. But after visiting the museum, I don't know if I could handle being blind. You would be more vulnerable, and have to rely on people more so than if you were deaf. I don't really like people having to do things for me. Unless it's my homework.
We had dinner in Jerusalem one night, and while we were there my roommate and I missed the last bus back to Ashkelon, so our federation paid for us to take a cab home. Our cab driver was really weird and listened to really loud techno music the whole way back. On the way out of Jerusalem, though, he took the tunnels that go through the West Bank. When we pulled through a check point the driver rolled down my window in back and said, "Say 'hello' to the soldiers, girls!" He was so weird we were thinking, "You mean say 'goodbye' because you're kidnapping us into Palestinian territory?" Then he stopped for gas. This "gas station" was in an alley by a shack. The "gas pump" was directly attached to a gas truck that we assumed had been hijacked. The "gas station attendant" smoked a cigarette the whole time he was pumping the gas, and we thought he was going to blow us all up.
The thought, "I am going to die," has never crossed my mind as often as it does since I've been living in Israel. We hear explosions from Gaza on a daily basis. There are bombs washing up on the beach. I never thought I would get used to the sound of an explosion.
We spent Purim in Tel Aviv. It's like the Jewish Halloween, everyone dresses up and gets really drunk. You're even supposed to get drunk on this holiday. There's a mitzvah to drink and drink until you can't tell the difference between good and evil. I tried, but at the end of the night I did know what a bad decision was. We went to Florentine, where there was a huge neighborhood party, and a bunch of streets were blocked off. The streets were packed with people in costumes, and there were people in balconies dancing and waving.
Aside from the night we went out in Florentine, it rained the whole weekend. I was watching the storm with a buddy on the balcony, and suddenly lightening struck the house next door. It scared us pretty bad, I could feel my bones quivering the thunder was so loud. And then it struck again! We could see the sparks flying up in the air from where it hit the metal pipe on top of the house next door. It was a scary and exciting thing to see.
("Let there be songs to fill the air," from "Ripple," by the Grateful Dead)
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