"You're not the best, but you're better than the rest"

The eighth night of Chanukah

If there is another theme to this bar mitzvah vacation (other than the whole bar mitzvah theme), it would have to be excessive touring in vans that lead to carsickness. We have already spent more than enough time in a bulletproof vehicle; today, we spent over five hours touring the Gush Etzion region, which is just outside Jerusalem, in a van.

Our tour guide's name was Leon, and he had a South African accent, which sounds quite a bit like an English accent, which makes everything you say sound dignified and, therefore, correct. Just try it:

"Upon my honour, I did not colour that theatre, dash it all!"
"Oh, jolly good! Come have a cup of tea with me."
"Simply smashing. I'll bring the bangers and mash."

See what I mean? So, Leon would tell us all about the region, and because of his accent, we weren't sure if he knew what he was talking about. We visited alon shvut, a lonely oak tree, and the bell caves, where the Romans made prisoners dig deep pits to get out limestone. We all had to wear helmets (I got one of the two green ones!), not for falling rocks, but for bird "dookie," as it is slangly called.

On the way back to the hotel, Leon sang Chanukah songs for us, a task severely hampered by his knowledge of only half the words; this time, his accent couldn't help him.

We changed right as we got back to the hotel, and headed to Darna, a restaurant right off Ben Yehudah Street. Darna is a Moroccan place, and the room was ornately decorated as such, with sofas and pointy windows and writing on the walls. A lot of the people who attended the previous services and luncheons were, unsurprisingly, at the dinner tonight. I sat with the kids, which turned out to be a big mistake, as we were served kiddie meals of schnitzel and French Fries. Meanwhile, the adults got real Moroccan food. To be honest, I wasn't that upset at missing the real food; I just wanted a bowl of that thick creamy soup.

Other than that, the party was pretty uneventful. The adults just talked, and the kids amused themselves. Jake Gardner told me a funny story that cannot be repeated in this space, and Ariel Serenevich, Simon, and Freddy caused all sorts of trouble. The scrapbook I made was by and large a success, in spite of Matthew pulling out the cutest picture: it was a shot of him naked at four years old, wearing nothing but an English police helmet. I had tastefully placed a "Happy Hanukkah!" over the, er, embarassing area. Whatever.

Happy Holidays.

PS: We were supposed to have belly dancers perform as part of the Moroccan theme, but we decided not to hire them at the last minute. Some of us were disappointed, naturally, so we decided to have out own entertainment. Brace yourself...