In the (Golan) Heights

I had only planned to stay with Barry’s family for two nights, but it turned out that on Wednesday, I had the opportunity to meet with one of Barry’s former students up in the Golan Heights so I decided to leave on Thursday instead.  Maya and her family are Druze, which is one of the two main ethnic minorities in Israel, along with the Bedouins.  The Druze have an entirely different culture from everyone else in Israel and are neither Jewish nor Muslim.

Golan Heights with the Nimrod Fortress in the background

On Wednesday morning, Barry dropped me off at a bus stop near the college and spoke with a local boy who it turned out was headed to the same place that I was.  The boy told me that he could show me where to get off and help me to hopefully meet up with Maya when I got there.  He said he didn’t recognize her name, which was odd since everyone in these small villages generally knows everyone else.  He even asked several other people on the bus if they knew who she was, but nobody seemed to be familiar with her.

Stand-glass picture on the "temple" door

The hour-long bus ride wound its way up into the hills past ancient Roman ruins, the entrance to the Banias Waterfalls and the massive Nimrod Fortress.  We even drove past Israel’s only ski resort, Mount Hermon, which is one of the few places where you can actually see snow in this country in the winter.  We finally got off the bus in the town of Buq'ata and the young guy led me into a coffee shop where he gave Maya a call on his phone.  It turns out she was right around the corner waiting for me at a different stop and that she actually did know the boy who had been helping me.  It appeared that Barry had gotten her last name confused with that of another student of his so I was asking everyone about the wrong Maya.

After drinking a cup of tea that the boy had brought over for me, Maya and I left the cafe and walked through her small village.  She brought me first to a sort of temple room that was a memorial to a famous old Druze leader.  We had to cover our heads with scarves before we went into the small room that featured a small sarcophagus type of structure and portraits of important Druze figures.  I watched as Maya went around and kissed the sarcophagus, which is what she said one would typically do.  Even though she seemed quite familiar with this ritual, Maya explained that she is not in fact a religious Druze and therefore is not allowed to go into the prayer hall or read any of the sacred texts of the religion.

Monument to the Syrian uprising

The Druze religion is apparently a very secretive faith that only the initiated are allowed complete access to.  Throughout time the Druze people have actually incorporated elements of the Jewish, Christian and Muslim faiths and this current Druze religious is most closely associated as an offshoot of Ismailism.  Maya explained that the five colors of the Druze flag--green, red, yellow, blue and white--each represent one of the five main principles of the religion.  If Maya was a religious Druze she wouldn’t be allowed to go to university as a female and would have to wear the traditional clothing of a long skirt and head covering.  If she decided somewhere along the way that she did want to become religious, she would have to prove that she was completely morally impeccable before being allowed to know all the secrets of the faith.

After we left the temple, we continued walking through town where Maya pointed out various landmarks, including the prayer hall, the hospital, a large communal center for holding ceremonies and festivals and a monument in honor of the Syrian uprising, since many Druze are in fact Syrian.  The village isn’t very large so it didn’t take us that long to arrive at Maya’s home.  It’s a fairly large house that she said used to belong to her grandfather.  Inside we met her mother who spoke only Hebrew, Arabic and very little English, but was still very friendly and welcoming.  We sat on low benches set around the perimeter of the room and Maya's mother brought out a tray of dried fruits, nuts and chocolates while Maya boiled water on the wood-burning central stove for tea.

Entrance to the Druze prayer hall

We sat talking while Maya's mother prepared lunch and Maya showed me some old photographs of her grandparents wearing traditional clothing that were hanging on the walls.  I then showed her some of the pictures from my travels and we discussed how her life is the same and different from other Israeli young people her age.  Since she is not religious, her father, who is a teacher and relatively progressive, will allow her to go to university next year once she finishes high school.  Maya also told me that although she doesn't condone war she would actually like to do her national service in the Israeli Army since she is an Israeli citizen, but she is apparently not allowed to.  I was unclear as to whether this restriction was because of the requirement of the separation of sexes in the Druze culture or some other prohibition set up on the part of the IDF.  Though she dresses the same as any other teenager in everyday life, Maya did tell me that she can't wear a bikini when she goes swimming, though she is allowed to wear a one-piece bathing suit.  It was really interesting to see how her background did seem to incorporate some elements of the traditional Druze culture even though she does not follow the faith.

Me, Maya and Raya in their living room

While we were eating a lunch of meat-stuffed pastries and pita and homemade Druze bread spread with a traditional cheese and olive oil, Maya's younger brother and a female cousin came home from school.  A short while later, her younger sister, Raya, who is one of Barry's current students, also arrived and sat with us to eat.  She was sweet, but clearly much more quiet and shy than outgoing and talkative, Maya.  Just as we were getting up so that I could get a tour around the rest of the house, Maya's driving instructor drove up to pick her up for her lesson.  Maya had arranged it so that she could drive me back to Kiryat Shmona as part of her driving practice for the day.  On the way out the door, I met the kids' father returning home from work and he graciously invited me back to visit any time I returned to Israel.

Me eating lunch, which Maya took at an (intentionally) weird angle

On the ride back in the car, Maya pointed out various sites along the way, including the UN Peacekeeping Force that was apparently patrolling near the Syrian border because of the recent uprising.  Seeing Maya's nerves behind the wheel definitely brought me back to my days of learning to drive, though she did do a pretty good job and it was certainly nice not having to worry about catching the bus all the way back to Kiryat Shmona.  At the end of the day, I had made a great new friend, who taught me so much about the different ways people live in every corner of Israel.