I am sitting on the bus and my computer is about to die but I thought I would try and write up this email. Sometimes, it feels like the only time I have to sit down and write you is on the bus. It is Thanksgiving Day (hooray!) and we are driving home from Galilee. Our bus reminds me of the magic school bus: it is daffodil yellow, with dolphins and little sea creatures all over it. I keep waiting for a teacher with frizzy red hair to come sauntering down the aisle, announcing we will be shrinking ourselves today so we can fly with butterflies or drive into some student’s mouth.
Instead, Professor Huntsman shuffles us around Galilee in our magic school bus. I think Galilee may be better than any adventure from the cartoon shows.
We arrived in Galilee ten days ago. Everyone else in my group got aboard the bus with plump, fully packed suitcases. I came with my little duffel bag. Bad idea.
After ten days of living out of my little duffel bag, I now smell. Like campfire ash, muddy feet, mixed with manure. But I can’t complain.
I smell like a campfire because I snuggled up around a bonfire three times on the seashore.
I smell like dirt because we hiked to waterfalls and jumped around on rocks where Christ may have spoken to another rock, Peter.
I smell like the sea because I swam in the Sea of Galilee. Yes, in my professor’s words, “We swam where Jesus walked, today.”
We stayed at a kibbutz right on the sea shore of Galilee. The Sea of Galilee is so, so clear. When I went up to the water, I put my toes in the tide and looked down. I could see every pink-pearled seashell and every pale pebble. I understand why Christ chose to walk in this sea instead of Bear Lake (no offense, Grandpa-I still love Bear Lake for fishing).
We lugged rocks in the water and each took our turn “walking on water.” But I kept begging someone to accidently push me into the water.
For the first few days, the teachers told us we could not go swimming and I was just itching to get into the water (one, to cover up my smell and two, because it is the Sea of Galilee). But, no, we needed a lifeguard.
I didn’t have too much time to complain. Every day, we went on a field trip or we went to class. I think our teachers want us to become as wise as Christ’s disciples with the amount of studying they expect from us. I tried to hush my mental breakdowns, because Galilee already has a history of women possessed with devils. I took the readings on the bus and carried my scriptures around like a baby, trying to squeeze in time to read and study.
The day of our midterm came and I basically stitched myself to my study guide. After lunch, and cramming for another hour, I went to take the test. Right before then, my teacher told us-miracle of miracles-they found a lifeguard for us. But we had to be to the water by 4:30.
I grabbed my test, sat down in one of the seats without a desk, and nearly choked on a hysterical laugh when I looked at the test.
I am a slow test taker. And I knew this test would take me a while. But I dove in. Question after question, I ached to rest my hand. I kept looking at my watch. I tried to scribble in the tiniest hand writing my every tiny bit of knowledge on every term.
I only had a few more questions left and I looked down at my watch: four o’clock. There was no way I was going to make it to the beach. I sighed and consigned myself to a sad fate: I would never swim in the Sea of Galilee. But then, I read the last question. It was about Mary and Martha.
I knew this answer.
Martha was always so troubled … about everything.
And I know I am always so troubled … about everything.
At that moment, I made a decision. I did something I don’t normally do. I did not look over my test five thousand times before I turned it in. I wrote in my last response, stood up, handed in my paper and then … I ran.
I ran outside, slipped off my shoes, and I ran to my little cottage near the end of the kibbutz. My backpack sloshed around on my back and my tailbone still hurt from basketball, but I continued to run. At my kibbutz cottage, I slammed the door and grabbed my swimsuit off the bathroom hook.
Then, clad in a damp, mildew-smelling, ultra-modest, there is no cleavage anyways, swimsuit, I ran down to the shoreline.
Everyone else was already at the water’s edge. There were some people “walking” on water. Other people were wading out past their ankles. And other people were throwing clumps of mud at each other. I turned to the closest person and asked, “did I make it?”
No.
The lifeguard had just left.
I wanted to sit down and cry.
I felt like one of the ten foolish virgins, who was not allowed into the wedding.
I felt like I did when Sheila left for Seminary without me, because I was too busy dabbling on my tube of mascara.
But then, Scott and Thomas grabbed my arms and while I protested, they threw me into the water.
I wasn’t allowed to go in past my waist without a lifeguard, but I still floated around and got fully soaked in the Sea of Galilee.
You remember the part in Ever After where Danielle floats in the pond? I felt like that. The sun decided to join me in the water and slowly sunk down at the edge of the horizon. I am getting gushy again but, really, Galilee is beautiful.
There is so, so much I need to tell you. But I am afraid I am just blubbering now so we’ll keep the rest of this short (I promise Sheila!-This will not be another high school sized, Kimberly essay).
We sang gospel songs on boat rides. I lifted my hands and sang, “My God is an Awesome God!” until my throat hurt. I still have that song stuck in my head.
I think I may have experienced the first stages of hypothermia on our hike. But we found a waterfall so I stopped complaining about my yellow, molten purple looking-skin.
We ate at another fish restaurant. There were options: fish, pizza, or pasta. Everyone was so happy to get the plump rolls and bread everywhere we ate in Galilee. But I was not surprised—of course, the land where Christ fed bread and fish to the five thousands would have delicious, doughy warm pitas. Plus humus. So, I ordered the fish because I wanted the full experience: bread and fish, please. I felt like one in the crowd of five thousand. But when my fish came, it looked like one Peter had just caught in the net. Except a little fried. So I ate some of Jessica’s pizza, too. This time, I stayed away from the fish’s eye.
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My computer died on the Bus
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When we trudged off the busses, and got back into the center, we all almost started to cry.
They decorated the Center for Christmas.
It is so beautiful.
There are pine trees and gold twinkling lights.
I really do live in a castle on a hill.
Our teachers told us to go wash-up for dinner (yes, they knew I smelled). By this time, I smelled like fish paste mixed with humus.
I got in one of Kaylie’s dresses and tried to scrub off the dirt on my face.
Then, we went outside the Oasis.
Achman made Thanksgiving dinner. I like to compliment Achman whenever he makes fudgy brownies or anything I like because I know he will make it again soon, if I do (I like to believe that is why we have potatoes at almost every meal).
But this Thanksgiving dinner Achman outdid himself.
We walked into the Oasis and the cooks were just grinning, as if they had big ears of corn stuck under their lips. We did not disappoint them with how excited we acted. I think I squealed. The cooks stood along the buffet line with two grizzled turkeys slicing thick tender pieces for each plate. They gave out dollops of stuffing with the softest pieces of bread and crispiest pieces of celery (and some olives but we all picked those out). Royal purple cranberry sauce. Fruit salad with whipped cream and gold, sugared pecans. Then they presented the pies. The pies were sugared with crumbled doughy tops and warm sugared apples. I feasted like a happy queen.
But, Grandma Allen, your Thanksgiving dinners will always have my heart.
And I wish I could have been there at the Michels' home with everyone. I miss you all!
Today, we are still in recovery from our Turkey comas. I am too deliriously happy to have another mental breakdown about my grades. I think later I may just go into the Old City.
The shopkeepers will be waiting for me.
Love you all so much,
Kimberly
P.S. Sorry Sheila, this turned into a rambling email…per usual…just imagine what headaches I give my teachers with the essays I sneeze out.
We went on so many field trips the places are now jumbled around inside my head. We had a pig race where the devil possessed swine ran into the sea. We saw John's home (at the place pictured above). But my favorite, still, was probably going on the boat ride.
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