Wheat Grass Has Its Own Room

Day 2

I awoke at 5:30 and looked out the window. The sun was just rising in the east, peeking over the Golan Heights. I ran outside to drink in this moment and sit with the birds that had already started home renovations, peering at me goofily with tufts of grass hanging from their beaks. A hummingbird had found a snack and was daintily flitting from blossom to blossom. The stem and even the florets of this plant easily held the weight of this bird, a lovely reminder of how perfectly constructed nature is.

At 6 a.m., those who wanted some exercise were invited to walk. We did warm-up exercises under a large tree with sweeping views across the Kinneret, then followed a road to the fields. Every field was planted with herbs, creating a fresh pot pourri of sage, lavender and rosemary that lightened our step.

We arrived for breakfast to see the long table set with tall glass cups filled with juice.  We had a long spoon, a napkin and before long, the room filled with the sound of spoons tinkling against glass. We wistfully stirred. And we sipped. Today the buffet offered us an extra vitamin and healing boost to our smoothies; we could add bright yellow turmeric, fiery red paprika, sweet cinnamon, lemon juice or freshly squeezed ginger to our drinks. 

We then had lectures on alternative medicine, and visited the wheat grass juice room, where everyone could and should squeeze their own fresh wheat grass then down it i Tequila style in a shot glass followed by a wedge of lemon.

We had a meditation session in a room overlooking the Kinneret before we made another circle, held hands and sat down to plates filled with crunchy salad.

More lectures were followed by more crunchy salad, this time with sprouted lentils, raw organic corn and a multitude of sprouted veggies. We chewed and chewed. I was feeling a bit like a cow and started to wonder if my ever so patient husband was, well, losing patience. He likes a salad, maybe once a day, but with all these sprouts and leaves, he could be going into panic mode. He smiled as he took another forkful of kale sprouts. And then everything changed.

Our happy leader announced that tomorrow, we would be starting the two-day juice fast. I looked over at my husband nervously and he didn’t flinch. When I booked this ‘holiday,’ I was looking for a detox, yet I did not bother to read the fine print, especially since it was in Hebrew.

Back in our room, my husband said, “I can do this.” I nodded in agreement. And then we opened the next pictures, generously forwarded by our friends: a sparkling blue swimming pool. We gulped and rubbed our bellies.

Read more: Day 1, Day 3, Day 4