Jerusalem in pictures

Our trip to Jerusalem has to be one of the most fascinating, exhausting, intense, bewildering two days of my life. There is nothing mild mannered about the old city of Jerusalem. I think the best way to tell the story is through pictures.

On the road to Jerusalem......

Up until a few days ago, Jerusalem for me was a mythical place in the bible or the site of political unrest in the news. Now, it an exit off the the southbound Ayalon highway in Tel Aviv.

Drive time between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem is about an hour.  The land is flat then slowly gets hilly as the road curves into the city.

Visual signs are always welcome

Jerusalem is a modern city, but within the city  lies the "Old City" which is enclosed by stone walls. This was my first view of the wall. The picture was a challenge to take as the driver.... :)

David and Emma standing near the Jaffa Gate inside the Old City. Our hotel, was a small, well run Arab owned hotel located the Christian Quarter. For someone who dislikes ethnic categories, I quickly learned that in Jerusalem, religious identity matters.






In the Arab Quarter....

First stop: Dome of the Rock. After parking our car at the mall outside the walled city, we only had an hour to get to the mosque that closed at 2:30. When David was here some 20 years ago, only Muslims were allowed up on the Temple Mount. He was eager to see something new. So we ran like crazy from the Jaffa Gate, through the labyrinth like streets of the old bazaar, past the Western Wall (Kotel) to the end of the security line to view the Dome of the Rock.

All were allowed on the Temple Mount, but only Muslims can actually go inside the mosque.  We learned this when David asked to enter.  The man at the door said, "Never!"

Here is Emma with her scarf: modest religious apparel, officially approved for visits to all religious sites. 

In the Jewish Quarter......

View of the Western Wall from the walkway to the Temple Mount

We returned to the Kotel at night.  David visited the men’s section; Emma and I went to the women’s portion. I was taken with the differences between the two areas. Even though a short wall divided the men from the women, I could look over the wall and see the men. I could hear them praying loudly and see their bodies swaying back and forth. In contrast, the women around me seemed lost in quiet meditation, some with prayer books in hand. For once, I was actually happy about such a gender split.  I liked the quiet reflection of the women’s section.

A night time view of the Western Wall

In the Christian Quarter....

 

Determined to give Emma an inclusive ecumenical experience of Jerusalem, the next morning we retraced the steps Christ is believed to have taken with his cross as he approached his crucifixion on Mount Calvary. We walked the path known as the Via Dolorosa toward the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in the Christian Quarter. 

Franciscan monks lead the procession through all Stations of the Cross.  The monks led prayers in several languages except English. 

 

David and Emma at the tail end of the procession

At one point during the walk, I stopped to take in the moment:  The Islamic call to prayer from the Dome of the Rock mosque next to us drowns out the prayers of the monks as they pray at the 4^th station where Christ is said to have met his mother.  Vendors from the nearby are asking me where I am from in hopes of persuading me to buy a souvenir t-shirt.  David’s cell phone rings.  An Israeli colleague tries to give David plans for the dinner party later that night.  David can’t hear a thing. Israel military police with revolvers and iPhones watch over all of us with mildly bored looks.  I feel rather overwhelmed.

For about 40 shekels you can buy a souvenir crown of thorns.

In front of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

In the Armenian Quarter.... 

Our first night in Jerusalem, we had a very nice dinner at an Armenian restaurant. We walk around after dinner and manage to get ourselves lost.  A young boy with a soccer ball in hand asks us if we need help.  We said we need directions back to Jaffa Gate. “I take you,” he says in heavily accented English. And with that, we began a 10-minute sprint through the dark, narrow cobbled streets. Again, I am running through the Old City of Jerusalem. I found it odd that such a young boy (perhaps 8 or 9) would be out so late, but there were plenty of kids out at that time. He said “hi” to all of his friends as he ran.  Arriving at Jaffa Gate, I bent down and thanked our young guide.

 

And souvenir shops everywhere....

Throughout the city, there are stall after stall of vendors. Part of buying is negotiating the price.  I found it stressful.  David and Emma seemed to love it.