Wild Dogs

I took the bus to Jerusalem and walked across town to the Arab bus station. Then I rode the Arab bus to the junction with the road that goes north to Jericho. I got out, took off my shirt, put on my pack, and started walking south.

The sun baked my head, despite a homemade kafiyya that covered my matted hair. Ridges made by old tank treads tripped me occasionally, and I would stumble under the weight of my backpack. I passed the shattered shell of a bombed out tank, its treads peeling off, turret bent like a carrot. The star of David was still faintly visible after 15 years of corrosion. Here and there belts of machine gun bullets twisted out of the earth and swung like abstract sculptures. Sometimes the rough Judean hills on my left parted and I could look down to the Dead Sea shimmering in the desert sun.

I followed the trail that leads up into the mountains, and at dusk arrived at the top of Wadi Qumran. As I wound my way down, the sides of the wadi rose over me, growing greener and greener with grass, desert flowers and scrubby trees. Bedouin shepherds brought in their flocks of goats and herds of camels, to the sounds of flutes and the clanking of bells. When I rounded the next bend I came upon a large herd of sheep and three Bedouin. They smiled and shouted at me: "Good evening!" I waved back and returned their greeting: "Evening light!" I spoke to them in my broken Arabic and told them I planned on sleeping in the wadi that night. I was surprised by their reaction. The three men became animated and I could pick out the word "kalbeen" – "dogs" – and "yacolac" - which sounded like I would get eaten. I didn't believe them.

I laid out my sleeping bag, gazed up at the Milky Way, and tried to sleep.

But as I started to drift off, I heard howls and barks. I thought of one of my favorite songs from high school: "Dogs" by Pink Floyd. I grew nervous. I began stacking up a pile of stones next to my head. I tossed from side to side as the yelps grew louder and closer. Finally I jumped up, threw my gear in my pack, and started hurrying back down the mountain.

It took two long hours to get back to the kibbutz I had passed on my up. When I arrived, around midnight, I couldn't get inside because there was a tall barbed wire fence, locked tight. I shouted, but nobody came. So I laid out my sleeping bag on the concrete and slept under the bright security lights.

The next morning I walked back across the Bedouin trails and miniature buttes of the Judean Wilderness to the caves of Qumran. I ate breakfast in caves 1–2 and read about David hiding from Absalom. Then I read from the Qumran Psalms: "As they eat they will be satisfied in truth, and as they drink, when they share together." I thought I heard a sound in the distance, so I climbed out of my cave and hiked a half hour to the ruins where I sketched and took notes the rest of the day.