Distance: 149 km / 92.5 miles
Time waited: 1:15 hours
What these people don't fully understand is that we hitchhike to have an adventure, an experience. To allow for something unexpected to happen in the midst of our scheduled lives. (And to get from one place to another. On a budget.)
We met up in Tiberias for a wonderful, refreshing dip in the Kinneret, followed by a quick stop at the Kinneret cemetary. After paying respect to some of Israel's greatest leaders, singers, and devil worshipers, we headed back to Jerusalem. It was getting late and we had a long ride ahead of us.
Pretty quickly a young Kibbutznik in a dusty jeep stopped, and took us down to Tzemach, where the trempiada to Jerusalem is located. We stuck out our hand, and waited. And waited. And waited. The few cars that stopped weren't going far enough, and so we waited some more. Birds circled overhead, the sun began setting. And we waited. And waited.
Next, we opted for the power of positive thinking: if we imagine the person who we'd like to stop, they will eventually materialize. The person will be interesting, possibly someone whom we'd like to invite to picnics, they will play good CDs, have snacks in the car, be heading towards our neighborhood in Jerusalem, and possibly understand economics, so that we could deepen our understanding of the current socioeconomic protests. After running through the litany of demands in English and Hebrew (just to cover our bases), we moved to meditation. Rona meditated up towards the sky, down to the earth, out to the road, invoking good ride Carma.
When that didn't work (and we were already mildly loopy), Cookie Goddess decided that fun should replace despair, and began playing aleph-bet hitchhiking. In this game you pick a letter, and then find as many things that start with that letter under the given category. Kids, try this at home. Adults, try this at picnics. Cookie Goddess began, "aleph...." and silently began running through the alphabet. "Stop!" Rona cried. Tet. Trempim! (rides). Just then, a large car pulled up, and two strapping young men offered us a ride to Jerusalem.
They were soldiers stationed in the Golan, and they were heading home for a 2-day vacation. They played fun Shlomo Artzi CDs the entire way. They were not economists, not picnic material and we ended up sharing our snacks with them but they got major bonus points for dropping us off VERY close to home, basically door-to-door service.