When I first heard about this trip, I realized that the image I had of Israel was fragments of political and religious histories. I could hardly construct an overall impression of Israel – if that is at all possible for any nation. So the main expectation that I had was the strong sun, humidity, and gnats. (So far, I have been wrong about this too. The heat and the humidity have been quite forgiving, until Saturday, and the gnats less aggressive that what I thought they would be.) Landing in Tel Aviv and traveling to Kibbutz Bakfar at Kfar Szold have confirmed my preconceived notion that industrialized countries are quite similar. Sprawling along the highway going north were rolling hills that reminded me of the wine country in California. We arrived at the kibbutz on a warm yet breezy night, and these several days at the kibbutz have been very pleasant. In fact, some discomfort in the hot afternoons could hardly shake my satisfaction of the evening atmosphere when we would sit outside on a rather private porch for a slow conversation or for some music (though rather romanticized, think of the breeze and mellow setting of Madeleine Peyroux’s rendition of “Summer Wind”). Although I expect the manual labor in coming weeks to be more intense than what we already have experienced – “yard work” and preparing ours squares for the dig – I have enjoyed the balance of physical exertion in the morning and laziness in the cool water of the pool in the afternoon. We will start our real work tomorrow, and surely that will cure any summer lethargy. (The site and the view from it are amazing, especially at sunrise! Refer to Cathy’s post for pictures.)

[Edit] We traveled to Banias on Friday, to Aterit, Katzrin, and Umm el-Qanatir on Saturday, and to Hippos, Capernaum, and Mount of Beatitudes on Sunday. We just started a full day of work today. More on these trips and our real work in the next post!

Professor Rubin and I posing at Banias with Pan, the ancient god of shepherds and flocks. Depicted is a modern rendition of how the ancient people would have imagined him.

View of the Hula Valley over the temple at Omrit

Perhaps my first impression of Israel during our sleepy two-hour bus ride from Tel Aviv to K’far Szold was of the region’s lush landscape. Northern Galilee does not at all fit my previous mental image of Israel as an arid, barren desert land populated by camels and scorpions. Although the climate is certainly hot and dry, the natural springs and the Jordan River bring a wealth of agriculture and vegetation to the region. I was particularly happy to find fruit and olive trees, as well as grape vines, covering the kibbutz, in the slim hope that I will enjoy one or two juicy, delicious snacks before I return home in a month. Indeed, the kibbutz’s organic apples and apricots served at lunch are grown on its property. I was also pleasantly surprised at Israel’s level of development, and have thoroughly enjoyed certain first-world amenities, such as the kibbutz’s large, gorgeous pool and my room’s air conditioner, that I do not have access to at home.

Although we have not yet begun work on our squares at Omrit, I have loved becoming more familiar with the site and its surroundings. Perhaps most unexpected for me was the gorgeous views from the temple, which is situated relatively high up on a hill in the Golan Heights; the temple looks out over the green Hula Valley, nestled between the browner, dramatic foothills of Mount Hermon. On my first day of work at the site, after a long morning of “housecleaning” in the altar area of the temple, Elvira and I helped clear and weed areas east of the temple around the wadi. This region, uphill from the temple itself, was the site of a Byzantine town, and this season’s research will address the extent of the town during Roman times as well. I will be interested to watch future research unfold the town’s possible Roman foundations; I would love to gain a closer look at every day life for a citizen of Omrit and learn more about an individual’s daily relationship with the temple. I am also fascinated by the temple’s status as a stopping point on the road from Tyre to Damascus. How would a foreign visitor’s understanding of the temple have differed from a local’s? How did the temple’s (possible) status as an Augusteum interact with its more local connection with the obscure goddess Echo? How involved were members of the region directly around Omrit in temple life?

Williams students in a temple niche at Banias

A trip to neighboring site Banias today raised even more questions. Banias, around 3 km down the road from Omrit, is a series of Hellenistic and Roman temples dedicated to the god Pan, as well as to Zeus. Pan’s connection with  Echo connects this temple with that at Omrit. Yet what was the relationship between these two temples? I wonder whether Banias would also have acted as a stopping point on the way from Tyre to Damascus; did the temples compete for the attentions of visitors? Was one temple more focused on the local population? Would townspeople at Omrit have also participated in religious life at Banias? Perhaps future research at Omrit will uncover its relationship with the regions surrounding it.