Tours of Frustration

I was just in a rotten mood today. I got up at 4:45am after only having slept for about 2 and a half hours because I had spent all last night trying to get current with my picture page. I took a shower, and got ready in time to make it to the King David Hotel where I was to meet my tour to the Sea of Galalee, and Nasareth. As I walked into the lobby, I felt my nose begin to bleed, which has happened frequently since I arrived because of the hot, dry climate here. Immedeately, I ducked into the bathroom and took control of the situation. However, while I was in the bathroom, the bus driver for my tour entered the lobby looking for me. According to what they say (however I very much have my doubts, I was not in the bathroom very long at all), They called my name over the loudspeaker several times, however I must not have heard them most likely due to the dramatic butchering of my name. Eventually he got tired of waiting and left. So unaware that anything was wrong, I waited for a bus that never came. Finally, after almost an hour the tour company calls the hotel to ask why I wasn't on the bus. I told him I never saw any bus, and I had been here the whole time. The conversation continuted on with the man on the other end scolding me for not showing up on time and making the bus driver late, to which I did not take very kindly to. Eventually, I asked him to either send me another bus to catch up with the tour group, or refund my money. He said it couldn't be done because it was my fault I was late. More than insistantly I asked to speak with the person in charge. He said he wasn't in, and I replied sharply with "well find me someone then." He told me he'd be in around 10, but maybe 11 or 12. He wasn't sure "This is how things are done in Israel" he assured me. I had had more than enough of this, I told him to just refund my money and put it back onto my credit card. He said he'd talk about it with his boss to see if it was my fault or the driver's. We argued a few moments more leading us back to absolutely nowhere, and then I just gave in, and said "fine! call me back when your boss gets in." Without another word, I hung up the phone, composed myself and thanked the poor woman at the front desk as nicely as I could. I rushed back to my hostel and found a pamphlet with a couple tour packages listed. Unfortunately the Sea of Galalee Tour it advertized had left already, but there was a tour to The Dead Sea leaving in about an hour. By this point, I was a little more calm, so I called the number listed on the pamphlet to see if I could get on the tour before it left. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. The voice on the other end sounded strangely familiar as I asked if there where any seats availiable for the tour. As soon as I gave my name, we both realized that we had been mortal enemies only moments before. "You!?" we both shouted at once, and then a long silence followed. "Look" I started, "I'm sorry about earlier, I was just really frustrated about missing that tour. Is there anyway I could get on this one?" He said there were some seats available, and offered to use the money I payed for the last tour for this one. I said great, thanked him, and rushed off to make sure I caught this bus.

Halfway to where I was supposed to meet this second bus, I reached behind me and realized I had left my camera in my room. I had about 15 minutes till this bus would arrive and find me missing once again, but I had to have my camera for the Dead Sea. So I ran as fast as I could, back up the huge hill to Jaffa Gate, and up 5 flights of stairs. I found my camera sitting where I had left it, and then ran all the way back. I actually made amazing time, and I was suprised I had run so far so fast. When I got to the hotel, I walked up to every tour bus panting and wheezing until I made absolutely sure none of those busses were for me. Locals who work at the real fancy hotels I've learned are really huge jerks. I was obviously out of breath, and trying to speak clearly to ask where each bus was going, and several of the bus drivers and bell boys scoffed at me because I was an "impatient American, who thinks everyone else is stupid." I shrugged it off each time, and focused my attention on making sure I found this bus to the Dead Sea. Several buses went buy until finally I heard the sound of my name being butchered. I only understood it this time, because I already knew what it sounded like. I turned around and saw a man with a clip board calling my name (or one like it). I ran over to him, and told him that was me, and he lead me to the bus I was waiting for (which was actually parked accross the street, where I never would have seen it anyway). On the bus I met a couple (at least I think they were a couple) who were staying in the hostel next door to mine. Suki from England, and Charles from Portugal. We talked for a bit about how strangely cold it was today, and it certainly was. Yesterday it was into the hundreds, and today it looked like it was going to rain. Talking to them helped me destress a little, and I was very thankful to be in the right place. On the bus ride over, we saw Jericho and the Tomb of Moses, as well as the caves where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered by a kid throwing rocks into the caves to try to recall his sheep who had wandered off. He heard the sound of a pot breaking, and crawled into the cave to see what it was. Inside he found 7 ancient jars with the scrolls inside.

We reached the Dead Sea at a special little tourist spa resort with a natural, hot spring steam room, and massage lounge. Down the way some were little plastic chairs under fake palm trees along the coast where you could swim, and right along side was a big mud reservour full of the famous Dead Sea mud that supposed to be amazing for your skin. I found a seat under the shade, kicked off my shoes and started to relax. I didn't pack any sort of swim wear, so I didn't get to go swimming, but I put my feet in the water, and covered my face, arms and neck in a thick layer of mud. We sat there for prettymuch the whole day. I got some time to sleep, finally, and got a very nice mud mask facial which would have cost me hundreds of dollars back home. The whole day I spent relaxing in solitude next to the water on a resort with a bunch of rich tourists.

I got a lot of good thinking time in, however, I'm not really sure I like the whole "tour" thing. There's some good to them, like for instance it allows you to see many different things that may all be spread far apart, and they pay for your transportation there and back in a nice comfortable tour bus. Often times they also pay for a meal, but there are a lot of ways tours can get in the way of my journey. The first thing is that when I travel with a tour group, I'm treated a lot differently by the locals in the area. I'm not me to them, but instead I'm a steriotype of whatever jerk tourist pissed them off in the past, and the whole time I have to proove differently. It's like they start me up on an expectation I have to work myself out of. The second is that on a tour you can't go at your own pace. You have to stay with the tour or you miss the bus. The other reason is that I've found that everytime I'm on a big tour, I'm somehow trying to compete with myself on what sights I've seen and haven't seen, rather than really just enjoying the area. I'm not here to see sights. That doesn't mean I shouldn't, but I can't spend my trip worrying that I won't get to the famous light show in time. This is NOT a vacation. I have to keep reminding myself that. I'm here to discover the world, and who God is, and figure out some things about myself. I'm not here to visit the gift shop, and come away with 21 new T-shirts. It's sometimes hard in places where there are a lot of tourists, to remember that. That's why I have to go easy on the tours. Sometimes they'll be the best thing for me, but I don't want this trip to be about air conditioning, and spa treatment. Especially if that means losing that human connection with the locals.