Michael Roth Personal Essay

9/15/11

“And now I will show you something un-bee-livable!” 

Really? Un-bee-livable? It’s four AM and you want to show me something un-bee-livable? Might as well climb, it’s not like I had a choice. 

We got out of the bus and the mountain loomed high, higher than I expected. Steeper, too. “This’ll be fun,” I muttered to myself. 

“Let us go!” I had to envy him for being so excited so early in the morning, and his accent made the trip that much more enjoyable. Maybe the climb wont be so hard! An hour and a half later and I knew that wasn’t the case.

My family was in Israel. We saw all kinds of things. We saw ruins, cities, beaches, more ruins, we saw a lot.  We had a tour guide, Mordi, and he loved what he did and made that clear in the way he did it. After a long bus ride, he would say over the bus’ speaker “wakey wakey!” At most places, he would say something along the lines of “I will show you something un-bee-livable!” He was always excited to show us something new, and since it was my first time in Israel, everything was new to me. 

One night (early morning, rather,) our plan was to drive to Mount Masada, a tall mountain, and climb it in time to see the sun rise. I liked this idea, but I failed to take into account the fact that the sun rises at about six AM, and climbing the mountain takes an hour or more.

At around two or three AM, we got into the bus and I fell asleep nearly instantly, the soft seats all too inviting. It felt like mere seconds, although I know it was at least an hour, when I was woken to the now typical “wakey wakey!” Now that we’re up, let’s start the climb. It looked tall. Tall and steep. There were steps at certain parts, but a lot of the climb was made up of slight inclines, which seemed easy. In a way, I was right. How hard is it to walk slightly uphill? Not very. On the other hand, how hard is it to walk slightly uphill then go up steps, then go slightly uphill, then up steps for two hours until you reach the top of a mountain. As somebody who had never experienced such a climb, I had no idea. By the end, I knew the answer. It’s hard. Very hard.

We started the ascent, and I was soon fatigued. I knew I had to keep climbing, no matter how badly I wanted to just stop and rest for a bit. After a while, having eaten a lot of food the previous night and slept very little, I began feeling sick. Occasionally I would have to stop for a minute or two, if only to catch my breath and make sure I didn’t empty my stomach too much, perhaps regretting that I’d eaten so much the night before. The climb never ceased for too long, though, and I kept on looking up and seeing such a far way to go, the side of the mountain appearing orange in the moonlight. It was a beautiful night, I just found it difficult to appreciate it at the time. It was a bit demoralizing, looking up and seeing how much we still had to climb. After a while, I just stopped looking up and looked only forward or at the ground. The climb continued like this for what felt like hours.

I still felt sick, and I had no idea how much further we had to go. I didn’t even want to know, I just wanted to get there. My legs ached as if I had just sprinted from Philadelphia to Harrisburg, but I knew I had to keep climbing. That was a constant, I always knew the climb had to continue, and I had come too far to simply give up and miss the sunrise. Suddenly I saw no way to go higher, I looked around, confused. Then I realized: there was no higher to go, we were at the top! I collapsed into a sitting position; I couldn’t bear to stand any longer. Mordi said something, but I was too focused on having finally reached the top to hear it. He pulled out a small device that looked like a radio and played a song. I didn’t hear all the words, but as the sun rose I heard the chorus: “Witness the rising sun from Masada.” 

I hadn’t seen the sun rise many times in my life, but what I saw that day was enhanced by the challenge of the climb. I was thinking, then, would it have been as amazing if there had just been an elevator to take me up? The vivid colors across the sky, the shining globe that is the sun slowly coming up from behind the horizon, but part of what made it so amazing was the journey, the effort. After working hard, exhausted but proud of the climb, that sunrise was the greatest thing I had ever seen. I had been showed something, something truly un-bee-livable.