by Amalie Coles
“Do you think it could wait until tomorrow?” Jason asked me after I explained him my problem. The nearest pharmacy was closing in a few minutes.
“Sure it can. But I’d rather have it now so that I can put the kit away and not think about it.”
“I can buy it for you.”
“Oh, that would be awesome.”
“All right, I’m going to Shoppers then.”
“Thanks, love.”
Jason disappeared for at least forty minutes. After a while, I began to wonder why it was taking him so long. Shoppers Drug Mart was located right across the street, so going there for a last-minute run would probably take ten minutes or less. At some point, I even began to get nervous and called his cell phone only to discover that he’d left it at home. Finally, I heard a knock on the door.
“Surprise!” he exclaimed.
The moment the door opened, I gasped. My husband walked in holding a large box of pizza. I had completely forgotten about dinner and, needless to say, was very hungry.
“Remember I promised you a going-away party?”
“Yes.”
A few weeks ago, we thought about inviting our family and friends over and hosting a small party. Luckily, I changed my mind before telling anyone. Even if I had packed ahead of time, I would still end up cramming in something at the very last minute.
“Do you mean a party for two?” I asked, taking the box from Jason.
“Yes!”
We sat in the dining room eating our pizza wedges and chatting about my trip. We promised each other to keep in touch during my stay in Ashkelon and discussed my plan to buy a local phone card. Then we talked about the places we were hoping to visit. The Old Cities of Jerusalem and Jaffa were definitely on the list.
We made love several times through the night. Since we wouldn’t be seeing each other for three weeks, we had to make the best of our last moments together. Exhausted and happy all at once, we finally fell asleep.
Next day, I was standing at Pearson Airport, saying last-minute goodbyes to my husband and my family.
“Have a safe trip and don’t forget to send us emails and text messages,” my mother said.
“And bring me some Israeli wine,” my father joked.
“Best of luck,” Erin said, hugging me.
Soon I was standing alone on my way to the security check. I looked back one more time and waved to everyone. For a moment, I felt a bit sad. I would certainly miss Jason, and I knew he would miss me. However, three weeks were probably nothing in the grand scheme of things.
The feeling of sadness evaporated as soon as I reached the duty free. Having looked around, I decided to check out the bookstore first. I looked at the new titles lined up nicely on a display shelf and considered buying a few. However, I didn’t spot anything that interested me, so I moved forward to the clothing store. Ironically, it had all the things I needed for the dig, including simple shirts and brimmed hats, but the prices were ridiculously high. Then I went to the store that sold makeup, where I checked out a few samples of expensive perfume just for fun. At the end of my window-shopping spree, I stopped at Tim Hortons and grabbed a cup of coffee with a doughnut.
My boarding gate was located in a separate room, at the very end of the duty free. As soon as I approached it, a stern-looking officer asked me to present my passport and the boarding pass. I obliged. Then he demanded I open my backpack.
“You have a very long name, ma’am,” he mumbled, going through my things.
“Can I go now?” I asked.
He nodded without saying a word.
I often wondered what it was about my last name that made people frown. I chose to be O’Connor-Smith because I wanted both to preserve my identity and to carry my husband’s name. Many women did the same. Besides, many people from other cultures had multiple and oftentimes far more complicated names.
The room was full of passengers waiting for their departures. I caught a glimpse of families with kids reading travel guides. I also saw a girl who strongly reminded me of a U of T student. She was around my age and wore jeans, running shoes, a polo T-shirt, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. The girl was reading something on her laptop.
As soon as the boarding time was announced, I wanted to jump from excitement. This was really happening! I was going to Israel on an archaeological dig. I joined the lineup, anticipation rising with every second.
I slept through most of the flight, waking up only for meals and drinks. As one can imagine, I was very tired from the last night but also happy. I had a lot of dreams. I dreamed about small towns on hills with flat-roofed houses and winding roads. I dreamed about the blue sea and yellow caves storing ancient scrolls. I dreamed about the glorious city that had been destroyed and rebuilt multiple times.
I woke up dazzled by the bright light. Outside my tiny window, I saw the outline of the Mediterranean coast along with the aerial view of Tel Aviv. I felt a surge of excitement again. My long-awaited adventure was about to begin.
“Passengers, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts,” the captain announced. “We kindly ask you to turn off all your electronic devices during the landing.”
Thirty minutes later, I was standing in the waiting zone, the same place Jason and I had been welcomed by our tour guide four years ago. Having looked around, I saw representatives from various touring agencies holding signs. There were also a lot of people who looked like family members and friends waiting for their loved ones to arrive. Many signs were written in the Cyrillic alphabet I could recognize as Russian. The outside part of the airport was filled with tourist buses and taxis. A few Arab-looking taxi drivers tried to offer me a ride, but I politely declined by saying, “Lan, shukran kathiran,” which meant “no, thank you.” It was one of the few Arabic phrases I knew, and in situations like this, it was a real lifesaver.
Since the Ashkelon team was getting picked up a bit later, I had some free time. First, I bought a local phone card from a booth that located right across from the arrival zone and let everyone in Toronto know I’d arrived safely. Then I roamed around the airport’s area for a while until I decided to find something to eat. Following the signs, I headed upstairs to the food court. Right at the top of the escalators was a journalist interviewing a passerby.
What if I get on the local TV? I thought to myself while walking past them and inadvertently appearing in front of the camera.
After passing a chain of boutiques and convenience stores, I finally spotted a small food court. To my disappointment, it only offered American-style fast foods, like burgers and fries. Feeling hungry and jetlagged, I had no choice but to grab a hamburger and Pepsi from the closest counter. Quite honestly, the spongy bread and soft fries garnished with old ketchup tasted horrible, and I would rather have had a tasty falafel wrap with a plate of hummus. I definitely had to catch up with local food later.
Having finished my not-so-great meal, I headed downstairs, where the Ashkelon group was already waiting for the bus. Among them, I saw a middle-aged black lady wearing a T-shirt saying “Leon Levy Expedition” over a long dress and holding a notepad. She asked me whether I was here for the Ashkelon dig. After I said “yes,” she asked my name and marked me off the list.
“Nice to meet you! My name is Gloria.”
I proceeded to join the rest of the group and meet other volunteers. Among them was the girl I had seen back in Toronto’s airport. Her name was Claire, and she had flown all the way from Missouri to participate in the dig. When I told her she looked like a typical U of T student, she laughed and said it was probably because of the glasses. I also got to know Jocelyn, a retired teacher from Billings, Montana. In spite of her loud voice and stern demeanour, I could tell she was very friendly. I learned that it was her fifth time in Ashkelon, and she was hoping to return next year. I also met Carol, a fifty-something-year-old social worker from Florida. Both of them already had adult children in college. At some point, a group of young people in Leon Levy T-shirts joined us
. These were the students from Harvard University taking a summer abroad course.
As soon as everyone was marked off the list, we were headed to the bus. The moment I breathed in the humid air filled with scents of exotic plants, memories of our honeymoon flooded back. I briefly recalled the first night when Jason and I went for a walk along HaYarkon Street and ended up listening to the sound of the Mediterranean Sea lapping against the shore. We sang, laughed, and talked about our future. We even made a few jokes about retiring in central Tel Aviv.
The drive took no longer than forty minutes, equal to a commute from Toronto to Oakville. After a transcontinental flight, however, it seemed endless. All I wanted was to get to our hotel in Ashkelon and collapse on a bed. Nevertheless, I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the trip. The desert scenery outside was very charming, and the familiar music playing from the radio made it easier for me to cope with my fatigue.
When our team arrived at the hotel, it was already close to the evening. After sorting through paperwork, we got our keys and were directed to our rooms. I was supposed to share mine with three other girls, which was a typical living arrangement for an archaeological dig.
“Hi, I’m Madeline,” one of my roommates said while hauling her baggage to the room.
“Hi, I’m Janice,” another girl said. Both of them were wearing shorts and T-shirts with University of Harvard insignia.
“I’m Rachel,” the third girl said. She was wearing a graphic T-shirt over yoga pants and a pair of flats.
“Nice to meet you all! I’m Rebecca.”
We all lined up at the bathroom door to take a shower. Although my turn came last, I didn’t mind because I wanted to spend some time by myself.
“See you downstairs,” Janice told me, as I was unpacking my shampoo and a change of clothes.
I couldn’t find the cafeteria. I checked out all the rooms, but to no avail. I began to worry I would stay dinner-less for the night. Then I spotted Rachel talking to some tall, dark guy. She was giggling like a schoolgirl, probably in an attempt to get his attention.
“Sorry, do you know where the cafeteria is?” I asked, desperate for some good food.
“Oh yes. Let me show you,” the guy replied. “See you later.” He said to Rachel.
“Is it your first time in Ashkelon?” he asked me as we were walking.
“Yes.”
“I’ve been here before, so I know the place quite well.”
“Nice.”
“Here it is.” He pointed at the entrance to a large buffet room.
“Thank you so much!”
“No problem.”
“By the way, my name is Rebecca.”
“I’m George.”
***
The food did not betray my expectations. As soon as we entered the buffet, all I could see was a countless number of salads, fruits and vegetables, as well as several hot meals. There was also a huge counter with desserts.
I got to sit with Jocelyn and Carol, both of whom were very excited about the dig.
“So, your husband is staying home and working, right?” Jocelyn asked jokingly. “Like a good husband,” she added before I had a chance to reply.
“He’ll be flying over by the end of the dig.”
“That’s nice,” Carol commented. “Where do you plan to stay?”
“Mostly in Tel Aviv. But we plan on going to Jerusalem, too.”
Our conversation continued through dinner. The two ladies told me they were planning to return home right after the dig, but they would use the two weekends for travel and sightseeing.
“Make sure you get to see the Rockefeller Museum,” Jocelyn said. “It’s totally worth it.”
“Israel Museum is better,” Carol interjected.
“We might run out of time since we only have one week,” I admitted. “However, we’ll definitely visit the Old City.”
After dinner, one of the field directors made an announcement about a meeting that would take place the next morning at the site. It would give us a chance to get to know each other better and to become familiar with the program’s routine.
Before going to bed, I decided to take a brief walk around the hotel and explore. My natural curiosity made me forget all about the fatigue I was experiencing half an hour earlier. The hotel had a large flower garden and a swimming pool. Halfway through my walk, I decided to call Jason and to see how he was doing. With my new and amazing phone plan I had bought at the airport, I no longer had to worry about roaming rates.
“How are you, Rebecca?” he asked.
“I’m great. Walking around the hotel and thinking about you.”
“Nice. I’ve been thinking about you, too. What time is it over there?”
“Close to nine o’clock. I should probably go to bed soon. I’m so tired after the flight!”
“You bet. I’d be tired, too.”
We talked about my flight and my ride to Ashkelon. I told him how getting out of Ben Gurion reminded me of our honeymoon. At the end of the call, I wished him a great week, and he wished me the same.
The darkness arrived very fast. In southern countries, twilight is almost non-existent. That’s just the beauty of the Mediterranean region.
When I returned to the hotel, the room was empty. Having changed into comfortable pyjamas, I dropped down on my bed and immediately fell asleep.
I woke up around midnight when I heard my roommates walk in.
“Do you think I have a chance?” one of them asked in a whispering voice.
“Well, you’ll have to try extra hard. Like, show him how much you love archaeology and stuff.”
“I’m trying, but he doesn’t seem to notice.”
“Give it some time, Rach,” the third voice replied.
“Anyway, what do you think about our new roommate?” the second voice asked.
“Oh, I hate her already,” Rachel said. “You should’ve seen how she charged at me when I was talking to him. I bet she came here to steal guys and have fun with them.”
“Hey, are you sure she won’t hear?” the third voice whispered.
“No, she’s asleep.”
I had an urge to get up and let everyone know that I’d heard everything. Instead, I lay with my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I couldn’t believe I was already having issues with people on the dig.
I had encountered many difficult people in the past. One of them was Sandra from work. She constantly picked on me and occasionally drove me to tears. One time, she noticed a tiny mistake in my order entry and sent an email to the entire department, cc’ing everyone, including my boss. I bet she felt like a hero, while I felt like a total loser. Sandra didn’t stop at one incident. She began spreading rumours about me and my supervisor, and within a month, my coworkers lost all respect for me. Fortunately, she was now on a maternity leave, thus making my life much easier. Ashley was no better. She was constantly up in my business, making tactless jokes whenever possible.
If Rachel wanted to spread false rumours and make my life miserable, I had to move away. The last thing I needed was an enemy on a vacation. So I came up with a plan to talk to the receptionist next day and to ask for a different room.
Chapter 7
Next morning, we all hopped on a big bus that took us straight to the ruins. The moment we got out, I was welcomed by the morning sun and a lovely sea breeze. As we proceeded to the site, I found granite and marble capitals standing together with Roman statues. However, this part of the site wasn’t the one I wanted to explore. I was more curious about areas from the Bronze and Iron Ages.
“Good morning, everyone.” Daniel Master, one of the directors, started the orientation. “Thank you all for participating in the Leon Levy Expedition. Before we begin, I would like to introduce our team and give you a chance to introduce each other.”
Daniel Master worked at the Wheaton College, while Lawrence Stager, the other director, taught at Harvard. There were also a few other staff members, including Tracy Hoffman, fro
m the University of Chicago and John Marston, from Boston University.
During the volunteers’ introductions, I heard almost every major mentioned. Janice and Madeline were studying psychology at Harvard, while Rachel had recently graduated from New York University with a major in English. Ironically, there were only two archaeology majors on the dig. One was me and the other was George, a Ph.D. student from the Wheaton College. There was also a girl named Karen, who had studied marine archaeology at the University of California but decided to switch to medicine. She was now a registered nurse.
“Do you know Tim Harrison?” Lawrence Stager asked me after I finished my introduction.
“Of course,” I replied, feeling cheerful. “He was one of my university instructors.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Rebecca. Maybe you’ll help us to identify some of the finds.”
As introductions continued, I learned more about the older volunteers. Barry was a pastor, and together with his wife, Theresa, they were organizing Holy Land tours. Gloria, who had taken our attendance last night, turned out to be a teacher from Kansas, not a staff member as I had initially thought. She had been part of the Ashkelon team for many years and was willing to take on more responsibilities. She took care of the attendance, drew site plans, and recorded levels.
I was surprised to learn that many participants came from well-respected fields, and some were even capable of saving a life. Among them was Andrew, a family doctor from Texas.
“Well, we have a doctor, a nurse, and a social worker in the field. We should survive,” Daniel joked. The rest of the group laughed.
After the introductions, the directors briefly touched upon safety at the site. The top tips included drinking plenty of water to avoid dehydration, wearing hats for sun protection, and not sticking hands under stones, which could conceal crabs and vipers. They also reassured us that animal-related accidents were extremely rare. Not a word was said about the political tensions. However, we already knew the site had a bomb shelter in case anything bad was to happen.