Akko And the Adventure

Today we have officially been in Nazareth three weeks. So, we decided to go visit another country: Akko in Israel. We did not expect that it would be such a very different country when we innocently sauntered out on our own adventure, alone, into the big and the new, but it was. Nazareth, at least the part we live in, is mostly Arab, and Arabic is primarily spoken. We were not prepared for the "country outside Nazareth." Same headaches of misunderstanding as entering foreign culture, same disbelief, same acceptance towards the end of our time in the new culture, same astonished bewilderment and frozen stares into the landscape around us.
We caught the bus to Haifa and the train to Akko, but as we advanced we realized English did not increase, it seemed to diminish. As we stepped from our little Arabic or English speaking bubble we realized that the country we entered spoke largely Hebrew and we knew next to nothing in Hebrew. (Toda is thanks and ken is yes - we did not even know the Hebrew for bathrooms. By the time we caught the bus back 'home' we were able to memorize the Hebrew for Nazareth so we could identify it on signs.)
From the train station, we acted like we knew where we were going and found our way to the Old City, a walled city right on the lapping Mediterranean, a port city for many years back, now housing underground Templar's tunnels from the Crusades, several mosques, an Arab bathhouse, delicious hummus and a Turkish market as well as fabulous castle walls. Philip's heart was set on seeing an amazing underground Knight's Hall but after some linguistic fumbling we found out that there was a great festival happening in the Old City. The Alternative Israeli Theatre Festival. Wow, very cool but it happened in the evening and the Knight's Hall was closed.
As we circled the Old City in the blazing heat, we grew increasingly aware that all of this was much harder than we imagined and that this would be a crazy tour to take children on. By semi-accident we found a place to buy tickets and saw the Templar's tunnel. Not as impressive as the Knight's hall but a start.
We ate almonds and dried apricots looking out at the blue, blue, blue, green waters of the Mediterranean.
We stood on the walls and watched the waters slap against the old stones.
We watched a conservative Jew fly a fighter plane kite with his children.
We toured a museum of early 1900's artifacts from mainly Jewish "pioneers."
We toured an art collection by a famous Jewish artist.
We saw the stunning bathhouse.
We ate hummus and falafel as we watched hippi-like Israelis stroll past, and two little girls play with the ATM much to the annoyance of a whole line of people who came to withdraw money. The girls would not be rebuked. They continued to squeeze against anyone withdrawing money and poked paper into the slots.
At the end of our time we saw a few actors in the park putting on pre-show acts.

We found the way home again, and as we strolled up the closing market right below our house, one Arab man we had never met called out to Philip (who was wearing his 'love your enemies' shirt) "Beautiful. Your shirt - those are the words of Jesus. They are beautiful."
Another man, when we were almost wearily home, invited us into his shop. Philip had begun a small relationship with him so we went in and he fed us guavas and grapes, sent someone to buy us juice, talked of his two wives (neither of whom he was leaving his shop for) and tried to force nail polish on me.
Then we were home. Back to Nazareth.

Templar's Tunnel.

Bathhouse

Art

ATM girls

A final Act.