Day 2: Jerusalem

Stepped off the plane, too much sleep, body already in confusion.  Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv.  Lot's of fellas in sharp clothes, tall black tophats, and long curly sideburns.  Gah, I look like a schlamhiel!  More of the those to come through the next day.  After, wandering around in the airport for a bit, making it through Israeli immigration (I lied less that I was expecting!) and finding our bags we meandered our way onto a "group taxi" bound for Jerusalem.  Never before have I seen a full size charter bus (full of men in black tophats) maneuver through rush hour traffic like a Lotus Elise.  And I thought Utah was a crazy place to drive!  At least these Jewish fellas are more than dimly aware they are behind the wheel of a car.  2 hours later we were released from the rush hour bus ride at Jaffa Gate, an opening in the massive wall surrounding Old Jerusalem.

"Do you know where the Jaffa Gate Hostel is?"  "Yes, yes.  Just follow the small cavernous walkway behind these hoards of religious pilgrims.  Right, right, left, right, look for David Street and then make three lefts."  Hmmm.  Luckily a nice young Arabic man in a leather jacket guided us into a dark alley, claiming to be the owner of the Jaffa Gate Hostel.  Me, up for a good adventure, followed closely, David and Jessica, weary and further back.  Sure as ever, he was the actual owner and sold us a two bed dorm room (for the fellas) and a bed in a room (for Jessica).  Happy New Year!

4am, eyes open, no going back to sleep.  Internal clock is confused.  After laying in bed for an hour I'm up, as well as my travel companions.  We are the first people awake in the Jaffa Gate Hostel on New Years Day!  Stepping outside, the ancient cobblestone streets of the city are quiet.  Shops are closed up behind locked steel doors.  The morning prayers at Al-Aqsa Mosque can be faintly heard in the distance from here in the Jewish Quarter.  We start the morning out with our first aimless wander through the old streets of Jerusalem.  The towering walls and stacked apartments and offices on either side of the winding streets make visual navigation impossible.

Meandering through the maze of narrow streets of Jerusalem on the one hand feels like any tourist destination.  Street vendors set up everywhere inviting you to browse their items.  On the other hand, there appears to be a large number of people living here for the sole purpose of religious worship.  In the hostel we met several pilgrims who really didn't seem to be doing anything other than praying and networking with other pilgrims.  The part that amazed me was the fact that large populations of Christians, Jews and Muslims all live and worship within this city, often in each others "quarters", with no noticeable confrontation or conflict.

Diving into the individual quarters are each unique experiences in themselves.  People hustling about to attend daily prayers, lot's of kids running around playing.  We spent about the first half of the day completely lost, feeling very small in this bustling city.  If we were travelling the Holy Land as tourists and had ample time, it would be ideal to have a day or two to wander aimlessly through the city, learn the way of the land, the people, breathe the air, smell the fragrant spices, feel the Mediterranean sun on your face.

The armed greeting, our first of many to come, was warm and heartening as we made our way to the Western Wall (aka Wailing Wall) in the Jewish Quarter.  The fellas were quickly advised to quickly cover our heads (Dan- ball cap, Dave- novelty paper yamakah).  Standing and observing the Jewish worshipers at the Western Wall was 1) awkward because we were a few of only a handful non Jewish people at the wall, and 2) moving.  After maneuvering my way to the actual wall and sneaking a brief momentum of Judeo-enlightenment I was informed that the Western Wall is actually the remains of the original temple in Jerusalem. A final wave to the expressionless armed Israeli guards and we're on our way to the next major religion...

Right around noon we heard what I thought to be an Arab extremist tirade against the US on loudspeakers on mosques throughout the city.  What I soon learned from an English-speaking Muslim racing by was that is was actually adhan for dhuhr (calling for the noon prayer).  The men were heading for Al-Aqsa (Dome of the Rock), so being a curious cat I decided to follow, however, another meeting with armed guards at the entrance to Al-Aqsa square deterred continuation of my pursuit (apparently it's obvious that I'm not Muslim). Instead of attending dhuhr I was escorted to another mosque (which ended up being the Church of The Holy Sepulchre) by a small Arab boy who then wanted 10 Shekels for his service.  The closest that I got to seeing the beautiful golden dome of Aqsa was was peering over the wall from a barren Muslim cemetary outside the city.  After stopping at a small bazaar and trying on an Arafat style keffiyeh I was ready to soothe my soul in sweet Christianity...

A quick lunch of kebab sandwich at a cafe in the Christian Quarter and we were ready to enter one of the most holy places in the Christian faith, the public bathroom... rather the the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  We entered (no armed guards) the church plaza just in time to see an Muslim man being forcibly removed from the church.  Crowds of people gathered at the church entrance, waiting to step inside and catch a glimpse of the Stone of Anointing, where Jesus' body is claimed to prepared for burial.  To be honest, I walked through most of the church unknowing of what I was actually looking at (no descriptions), only recalling a few of the obvious relics and locations.  Thanks to some careful research later (wikipedia) I now fully understand how profound this experience really was.  Among the locations and relics that are believed to exist in the church are the sites of Jesus' crucixion, his anointing, the tomb where his body was placed, Adam's skull, the cross that Jesus was crucified on, and a piece of the stone that sealed the tomb.  A true holy place, full of very emotional pilgrims, especially the woman who was escorted out for trying to chip off a piece of the Anointing Stone.

The day was coming to an end and it was time to attempt a sketchy border crossing (no vacation is complete without one!).  We gathered up our luggage (stashed around the hostel) and walked to the Damascus Gate where we then found another young Arab guide who misled us several times to the Arab bus station for 10 shekels.  A 6 shekel bus fare and we were onward to the West Bank, but firstly more armed Israeli soldiers at the entrance checkpoint.

Stay tuned.  DJS