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.
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| 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......
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| 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.
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| A night time view of the Western Wall |
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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.
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| Franciscan
monks lead the procession through all Stations of the Cross. The monks led prayers in several
languages except English. |
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| 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 4th 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.
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For about 40 shekels you can buy a souvenir crown of thorns.
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| 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.
