Somewhere in the Israeli Negev Desert, it’s 2 a.m. and I am cocooned in a damp quick-dry towel, desperately trying to fall asleep in my jeep, despite the howling sound of animals nearby.
I feel like howling, too. I’m at my wit’s end after listening to my teammate snore like a freight train for hours, in the confines of our tent. I’m shivering. My stomach is in knots as if it’s my first day of junior high school. The other women on the trip are already bonding and having fun, little cliques are starting to surface. I feel left out despite my overly friendly and probably overdone efforts.
Most of all, I don’t think I can make it through Desert Queen, a weeklong women’s jeep expedition in the Israeli desert. I manage to get cell reception and call my hubby crying, hoping he will magically helicopter me out of this mess I’ve gotten myself into. I finally calm down when my 17-year-old daughter gets on the phone and assures me that I will indeed survive.
In my sleep-deprived delirium, I replay the soft-spoken words of Yifat Yeger, concept manager of the Desert Queen (DQ) jeep expedition, in my mind. She spoke to the 35 eager participants seated on pillows in the middle of Ben Shemen Forest only a few days ago on orientation day.
“On this journey, you will do things you have never done before. You will face many challenges and prove to yourself what you can be.” Yeger is a full-time psychotherapist, which would explain the carefully planned series of physical activities intermingled with ingenious ice-breakers and bonding exercises, all beautifully orchestrated into our very full days of jeep driving, or “jeeping” as my new Israeli friends would say.“Okay,” I said out loud to the rising sun, “I can do this.”
I started to think of all the firsts I had experienced on the first day of Desert Queen. I drove a jeep for the first time in my life, negotiated treacherous cliffs and rocks for what seemed like hundreds of kilometres, slid down sand dunes, and shmeared my body with blobs of henna at my first henna party. Yes, I was having a great time, I just needed to let go. In fact, “letting go” and “freedom” were themes incorporated into our daily activities from the very first day.
Desert Queen 2009, a division of Geographical Tours, officially kicked off its second year running in Israel, in partnership with the Jewish Agency, at the Erez Crossing Border into Gaza, where Israeli soldier Gilad Schalit was kidnapped in 2006. His parents, Aviva and Noam Schalit, were present along with the Israeli media, which captured our send-off, as we released white balloons of hope in the air for Gilad’s safe return. We then drove away in a convoy of 10 jeeps, in teams of three and four participants, to begin our incredible journey. On this day, and the days that followed, we never knew what the itinerary would be until the very last minute, forcing participants to let go and free themselves of always being in the driver’s seat.
On the second day, after a well-deserved night’s rest, I felt like a new woman. I started to relax and enjoy the exquisite landscape around me and befriended some of the most amazing women I have ever come across. My physical limits were put to the test, and the more I pushed myself, the more rewarding my days became. In addition to mastering the art of peeing outside, I boogied whenever the moment grabbed me to Abba’s Dancing Queen, hiked in some incredible wadis and rappelled 80 feet down the Ramon Crater. The days were full, and so were our tummies. Oh glorious food! There was a fantastic group of women and men who whisked ahead of us throughout the day to prepare a celebration of Israeli cuisine fit for a queen. One night, in the dark, we stopped our jeeps and saw lanterns, which led us up to a Nebetian fortress. There, we discovered a beautiful display of yummy yogurt fruit parfaits and this was only a snack.
The team’s creativity and humorous antics never ceased to amaze us all. Every day we dined under the sun and stars on tables with colourful linens, eating skewers of grilled chicken, beef and fish, hearty beef stews, aromatic and nutrient rich vegetable soups, a multitude of perfectly chopped Israeli salads, and always a healthy dose of hummus.
As I settled into my newfound DQ groove, I became smitten with the participants who ranged in age from 20 to 60. These beautiful queens who captured my heart were a mixed group of mothers, students from abroad, a few middle-aged Americans, and me, the token Canadian. They left behind their families, friends and jobs, in search of a break from their busy lives and the opportunity to meet other women. There was no shortage of accolades for this unique women’s expedition, which also takes place in exotic destinations outside Israel.
Laurie, a pediatric nurse from Pennsylvania, was certain that the valuable experiences gained would not have happened if she hadn’t signed up for DQ. “This has been a ‘growing’ experience for me, and it has helped me to look at some fundamental points in my life and what I need to work on,” she said.
For Yana, an entrepreneur who splits her time between Germany and Israel, DQ was about “liberty, freedom and friendship” and the ability to “laugh like a child again.” For Israelis Hana, Merav and Etty, jeep driving and meeting women from abroad was the attraction. Our expert Israeli guide, Vered, was our fearless leader who carefully directed us up steep hikes through wadis, along the way filling our expanding minds with historical and ecological anecdotes. Together, we built a fence in a nature reserve, and also cycled one morning at 4 a.m. in total darkness.
Toward the end of our ride, we climbed to a peak, to experience the golden sun rising over the Negev, splattering the sky with pinks and purples. In the near distance, we saw a bountiful breakfast luxuriously displayed under a canopy only befitting 35 queens.
The surprises continued and one evening we jumped into our jeeps, followed the lead car for only a few kilometres, jumped out, and were handed lit torches. After we walked down a path surrounded by sand dunes, we were met by two camels that had just delivered our delicious Bedouin prepared dinner of roasted chicken, salads and homemade pita.
My most memorable evening by far was our last night in the desert. A storm was brewing. Gusts of wind threw our tents from side to side, and sand poured into my sleeping bag, into my mouth and eyes. It started to rain, and I buried myself in my sleeping bag, hoping I could weather the storm. The DQ team worked swiftly through the night to make sure our tents were safely secured, but for some reason, mine was not. Lucky for me, Vered, grabbed me and my belongings and rescued me to her sturdy tent. I couldn’t help but think back to the beginning of the trip, and how alone I felt. Although I was still sleeping in a tent, I now felt completely at home.
The next morning, happy and heavily dusted, we ventured out of the majestic desert for the last time. We had truly entered civilization and welcomed the use of a real toilet at an army base, where women soldiers taught male soldiers to drive tanks.
A few hours later, we pulled into the Royal Tulip Hotel in Eilat, for a luxurious final night. That night, I drifted off to sleep with a huge grin on my face, thinking about Yeger’s closing remarks: “What did you learn from this journey?” A question I am still in the process of answering.
For certain, I haven’t experienced this delicious tingling feeling of being myself – my old self – pre-responsibilities, pre-children, for a very long time. What a privilege to be able to pause, learn, and then move on to a new journey.
> This article appeared in The Canadian Jewish News, December 2010.