I think it best that I leave Nazareth early, before all the locals have a chance to lobby me. I plan to catch an early "sherut" to Tel Aviv. Sherut's are small vans used as a long distance shared taxis in Israel. In Africa they are called "Bush Taxis" and in Africa they would be packed with at least 20 people while here in Israel, ten is the comfortable limit. As in other parts of the world, they leave when they are full, thus ensuring the owner makes a profit every time his van drives.
Mary's Well is close by and on the way to the sherut station. I'm sure Mary would never recognize the well she used when living in Nazareth. It looks nothing like any well I've ever seen, with three big spouts from which water can pour. All the wells I've seen, especially old ones, are holes in the ground, but I suppose holes in the ground are not as photogenic as this edifice.
I grab something resembling a pizza from a local bakery, eat half and share the rest with the Arab drivers in sherut station. They are pleased and give me several cups of Turkish coffee in return.
The sherut follows a set route between Nazareth and Tel Aviv and passengers routinely get off while others get on, usually at marked bus stops. I'm sitting smack in the middle of the van and this gives me a good view of how sherut drivers are paid. A passenger enters at a stop and sits behind me. They mumble something to me in Hebrew (the location where they want to get off) while handing me some money. The money trickles up to the front and eventually the driver makes change and money then trickles back, from hand to hand, to the original passenger. Fortunately, the woman sitting beside me quickly realizes I do not speak Hebrew and she repeats the mumbled exit locations to the driver every time I pass money forward.
Today is Lag Ba-Omer, which means the 33rd day after the Omer count, which follows the Passover holiday. It is the Israeli equivalent of Guy Fawkes Day in the UK. Children light bonfires in the evening and stay up late while eating BBQ food, usually with their parents. The bonfires have historical significance as in ancient times, they would be lit on hilltops to pass messages between settlements. Lag Ba-Omer also signifies the victory of the Jewish people's rebellion in Israel over Rome.
Oren and I head over to spend the evening with Yosi, a good friend of Oren's who has a seven year old son. You would think that finding Yosi and his son gathered round a fire in Tel Aviv would be easy. However, every vacant lot of any size has multiple fires on it. The three acre lot across from Yosi's apartment has at least thirty fires burning.
Yosi's fire is very modest in size but sufficient to keep a constant stream of hot dogs, sausages, baked potatoes and other treats headed my way. Yosi has at least three times as much food as he needs. He keeps pushing food my way, despite my protests, until I put my foot down and say, "NO!" Apparently this is the sign he has been waiting for as the food stops coming.
Children scavenge the neighborhoods for weeks prior to this day, collecting wood. The construction companies donate piles of wood to prevent kids from breaking into construction sites and steeling wood. The companies are less concerned about the loss due to pilferage and more concerned about children getting hurt while wandering around dangerous sites at night. The largest fires have flames leaping thirty feet into the air so some people take this seriously.
Yosi's son is already getting tired when we arrive at 10PM, and continues to get more and more cranky. At 11:30PM Yosi walks him home to bed. It is interesting that kids the world over have the same behavior, determined to stay up and not miss an important event like this, getting more and more cranky until someone forces them to bed. I must be a big kid because the same is happening to me and Oren finally sends me home to bed at 1AM.
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