Adventures with Aloni

We feel incredibly privileged to see Israel through the eyes of Aloni, this remarkable man who has been part of our family for more than 30 years, but who is now a bona fide member since he became my mother’s partner (he really does not like the term “boyfriend”). He is a Sabra (someone who is born in Israel--literally the word for desert flower--prickly on the outside and soft in the middle) whose family has been in Israel for 500 years, a former frogman and Colonel in one of Israel’s most elite military units who fought in every war except the War of Independence (because he was 10 years old at the time), a poet, an artist, an avowed secular Jew and a steadfast Zionist. He has a gruff exterior that covers one of the kindest, sweetest and most thoughtful souls I have ever known. He also has a beautiful home in the middle of the German Colony--the hippest part of Jerusalem (not an oxymoron-I swear)--in which he has graciously allowed our family to stay and wreck havoc with the otherwise peaceful (and neat) surroundings.

Despite his antipathy towards religion, he reads the Bible every day and knows its contents by heart--and I mean that in every sense of the term. He also has a positively encyclopedic grasp of every inch of Israel’s geography and moment of Israel’s history, much from direct personal knowledge. It is in this context that he shows us Israel—the popular tourist locales with his personal insight (spin?) and the nooks and crannies nestled into various parts of this country that few have the opportunity to see, and even fewer the great fortune to see through the eyes and enchanting stories of Aloni. I know it sounds like a lame cliché, but he truly makes the Bible and Jewish history come alive.

These excursions require no planning on our part. Indeed, our input is neither sought nor considered. He usually says something like-“get ready, we are going somewhere very beautiful and special,” and off we go.

Nevi Schmuel was our first such destination. This is the tomb of the prophet Samuel who installed the first king of the Jews, King Saul. The tomb, considered a sacred site by religious Jews and Muslims, is nestled into a quiet Arab village about 30 minutes from Jerusalem. Aloni started by focusing our attention on the excavated site and noted the numerous and somewhat complex system of water collection and storage that was the key to survival in this country of limited rainfall. He then turned to the geography and topography and the strategic nature of the place which sits atop a hill with a view of Jerusalem and much of the West Bank—allowing residents to keep a constant watch for the enemy. He also pointed out that the site sits at the exact border between the dry, lifeless dessert and fertile valley with numerous fruit trees and other agriculture. He taught us to identify the various kinds of fruit trees and described how the bountiful harvests and ability of the residents to sell the fruit in Jerusalem kept the town prosperous. We could all imagine the residents piling baskets of apricots, almonds and olives onto donkeys and on women’s heads as they ascended the hills to Jerusalem to sell in the markets. As Aloni was talking, there was a group of young Arab girls with whom he engaged in discussion. They were sweet young girls who seemed to be typical teenagers—they asked us questions about where we were from and offered us a package of sunflower seeds. At that moment, the war that continues just miles down the road seemed particularly ridiculous.

After the history and bible lesson, we descended into the actual sanctuary, where men and women must pray separately. Adam and Aloni went one way, Emma, Maya and I the other. The girls and I finished fairly quickly, and waited for the men. Since praying is never on Aloni’s agenda, I was curious as to why they were taking so long. It turned out that Aloni had engaged one of the religious Jews (“black hats”) in a discussion about the Messiah. The Black Hat apparently asked Aloni why he did not pray for the Messiah—didn’t he want all Jews to be resurrected in Jerusalem? Aloni’s response: “Absolutely not—we already have too few parking spaces.” Even the Black Hat laughed.

We also went to Ashkelon, a beautiful seaside town—with a huge park (incidentally designed by Aloni’s father) containing fascinating antiquities, including those related to the story of Samson and Delila—which Aloni told in beautiful and illuminating detail.


One day, Aloni showed us the Russian Compound and Jerusalem Municipal Buildings—and pointed out what I suspect are often overlooked details about the gardens, the bullet holes and other battle scars of the various wars—and even the ancient tools that were hidden behind unremarkable walls that were used for pressing olive oil.


On another day, we had a delicious breakfast, with the best pita bread ever—at Bar HaBar and then an extremely cool excursion to the Sobeq caves where we saw the most amazing collection of stalactites and stalagmites—something that looked like a Disneyland exhibit—completely unreal.


Kibbutz Ramat Rachel was our last excursion with Aloni (besides Masada—see next post). This is a beautiful kibbutz just outside of Jerusalem, in truth a 20 minute walk from Aloni’s house, that he described at the last Israeli stronghold against Jordan before The Six Day War. He first showed us a unique and beautiful peace monument that sits in the middle of an olive tree grove, which consists of large pillars with olive trees on top.


We then stood on the ridge, looking over the West Bank and contemplated the magnitude of the battle in which Israel constantly exists. He also explained how much one can learn about history by examining the ground—where we found shards of clay that were once pots, pieces of flint that were once spears or knives.

Aloni also explained his theory of why the emblem of Israel is a menorah-while most nations choose some sort of animal (or scavenger, as he says). He explained that in biblical times, Jews worked from dawn until dusk to cultivate their fields so they had no time to study during the day. In order to study, an essential activity of Jewish life since biblical times, they had to do so at night. The menorah, of which they have found many ancient versions, provided the necessary light and helped Israel become a “light unto the nations.” This made an obvious impression as the kids now frequently repeat the phrase—“you need light to learn.”

In between all of these fascinating excursions, we had the pleasure of just being with Aloni-- eating, chatting, listening to him read and translate exquisite biblical poetry and sometimes just hanging out in his garden while Emma plays in the swing, There is no doubt that he has significantly enriched our Israeli experience immeasurably and for this we are exceedingly grateful.