In a state of dishevelment and coal-scentedness, we woke up the next morning and headed to the army tent for breakfast. This was the first time that we saw so many soldiers all at once. A lot of the girls were ogling, myself included. Let me tell you, Israelis are a good looking bunch.
We ran into a few soldiers that we had met the night before. They greeted me with a “Hi, Mulan.” The night before, they also asked, “Can you climb that tree?” and “Where is your dragon?” Maybe I should’ve been more offended, but I found it kind of funny/ entertaining/ a bit embarrassing for them. I also didn’t feel like giving a lesson in political incorrectness at 1 a.m. to some soldiers who I would most likely never see again.
After a breakfast full of gawking and getting gawked at, we rode camels for about 30 minutes. The camel herder (if that’s a term?) told us, “no selfies on the camels,” so the first thing I did was take a selfie on the camel.
Pretty much all the girls freaked out because their or their neighbors’ camel was either a) spitting b) snorting c) making a gagging noise d) puking or e) pooping. I got stuck next to camel type c, which resulted in a lot of “OMG PLEASE DON’T PUKE ON ME!” exclamations.
Also, I was on a camel with my trip bestie who also happened to be named Stephanie. It was of course an obvious decision to call our camel, Stephanie. (DISCLAIMER: at the time, this was funny. I still think it’s funny, but maybe not to anyone else other than myself…and Stephanie …and Stephanie the camel. HEHEHE.)