Hanging with Bambi

December 1, 2009 - 9:42 PM by Jessica · Leave a Comment
Filed under: Environment, General, Immigrant Moments, Israeliness

We headed out today to Nahal David, David Stream, one of the two year-round streams in the Ein Gedi National Park, on the eastern border of the Judean Desert, on the coast of the Dead Sea. The ‘we’ was myself, baby boys, and two friends visiting from overseas, Bruce and his almost-ten-year-old daughter Ronit. The goal of the trip was for Ronit to swim — or float — in the Dead Sea, something she’d been waiting to do. I suggested the add-on activity of Nahal David, since it’s an easy walk (or so I remembered), and has a couple of waterfalls.

It was fairly easy, although it was my first time hoisting and carrying one of my boys on a carrier on my back, and climbing up and down stone-hewn stairs and slippery slopes. What was phenomenal was the wildlife we saw along the way. On our way in, as we tried to slip past the MASSIVE group of high school girls on a school trip, we spotted a few ibex among the trees, or as the teenagers called them, “Bambis.” Funny, those Israelis.

But better yet, on our way out, after having frolicked in one of the waterfalls and bypassed the school groups, we came upon a whole family of hyrax, a guinea pig-like creature, all of whom were sitting on large boulders and just staring at us. According to Wikipedia, the word ‘rabbit,’ or ‘hare’ was used instead of ‘hyrax”‘many times in some earlier English Bible translations because European translators of those times had no knowledge of the hyrax (Hebrew שָּׁפָן shafan), and therefore no name for them. There are references to hyraxes in the Old Testament, particularly in Leviticus 11, where they are described correctly as lacking a split hoof and therefore being not kosher. It also details that the hyrax chews its cud, however this observation is due to the habit of the hyrax chewing without having ingested anything, resembling the chewing of cud (the hyraces studied by the Hebrews may have been in captivity). Hyrax tend to make chewing motions when they feel threatened. I would guess that they felt threatened when they were in captivity.

Moving on from the hyrax, we came upon another, well, herd, of ibex, just wandering around, even on the path where we humans were trodding. They’re smaller than deer, although the dads of the herd are bigger, with longer horns and this great ‘goatee’ that would look great on a human (which, hey, is probably why humans have adopted goat hair growth). In Israel, ibex are almost as ubiquitous as deer are in the States, although they don’t wander through our backyards. Even so, I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to one.

Nature. It’s a good thing.

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Tags: ein gedi, hyrax, ibex, judean hills, Nahal David

Back to nature

October 5, 2008 - 9:05 AM by David · Leave a Comment
Filed under: General, History and Culture, Holidays, Religion, Travel

The Shabbat between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur is referred to as ‘Shabbat Shuva’ – literally, a return to God and one’s self. Falling during the ten days of repentance, it’s the time for introspection and reflection, ahead of the upcoming Yom Kippur fast.

While we usually observe Shabbat Shuva at our synagogue in Jerusalem, this year, we decided on a more novel approach – a scenic hike along Sataf, in the Jerusalem hills.

Located only a few minutes outside of Jerusalem, close to Hadassah Hospital, Ein Kerem, Sataf is a 250-acre thing of beauty, maintained by the Jewish National Fund. The downhill trail along the terraced mountainside includes the remains of a 4,000 BCE Chalcolithic village with some of the oldest agricultural traces in the region, the remains of a pre-1948 Arab village, an observation post overlooking the western entrance to Jerusalem, an abundance of fig and olive trees, and the Ein Sataf water spring.

According to the site, Gems in Israel, most of the remains found in Sataf are from the Byzantine era.

There is no mention of a village named Sataf in the Bible and the first occurrence of the name in writing, is from Ein Karem, during the Mamluk era. Most of the remains found in the Sataf are from the Byzantine era. The Arab village of Sataf numbered about 450 people around the middle of the 19th century. A short time after the War of Independence, a small group of immigrants from North Africa settled here – but they were only here for a few months. Later, the area served as a training area for the IDF’s 101st and paratrooper units. In 1985, the KKL-JNF began the restoration of ancient agricultural practices in the area, with the help JNF supporters from Switzerland.

The primary crops in the Judean Hills in ancient times included vineyards, olives, figs and pomegranates. In this rocky-hilly region, dry farming (which relies only on rainfall for irrigation) was practiced using an elaborate system of terraces and tunnels. The springs here were not plentiful, so the existing water supply had to maximized. This was achieved by tunneling into the water-bearing strata. An ingenious system of channels (parts of which are clearly visible) conducted the water that was stored in large pools to the terraced plots.

The place was packed with nature-loving Israelis, some taking advantage of the bicycle rental stand in the parking lot, to cycle down the steep road circling the terraces. But the hiking trails – ranging from 500 yards to two miles – are the main attraction. The trail floors of full of brown pine needles, reminding me of new England hikes of yore. And when you reach the bottom, and the Sataf pool, there’s a short water tunnel that the two seven-year-olds in tow had no problem going through at least 15 times in an hour, in between munching on a picnic lunch.

Despite the hordes of hikers, the trail didn’t feel congested, and until we reached the pool, we rarely saw anyone else. And unlike many public Israeli situations, these outdoor enthusiasts were respectful of both the surroundings and the people around them. No litter, loud music or barbecues here.

I even got a few moments alone to contemplate the year, the world and myself. I might have been able to do the same at ‘beit knesset’, but the surroundings at Sataf were certainly more inspiring. Now if we could only figure out a way to get there for Yom Kippur without driving, that would sure be a fast to remember.

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