Israel

One can’t help feeling spiritual when walking inside the sacred mountainous walls of the Old City, first constructed in ad 1538 by the Ottomans. Armenian priests glide down cobblestone alleyways, Hasidic Jews scurry to religious schools, and the wail of the muezzin’s call to prayer from the mosques brought devout followers to their knees. The Old City is divided into four quadrants - Muslim, Jewish, Christian, and Armenian quarters – and a suq, or Arab market, stitches them together, creating a lively, bustling atmosphere.

To better grasp the pull of Jerusalem for pilgrims, a sage spiritual leader in the 1st century wrote: “The world is like a human eye. The white is the ocean that girds the earth, the iris is the earth upon which we dwell, the pupil is Jerusalem, and the image therein is the Temple of the Lord.” Pilgrims arrive by the busloads, to see, feel, pray, weep, and touch.

We spent a full day wandering the narrow stone catwalks of the Old City, touring the religious sites, and pausing for lunch at a quaint sidewalk cafe to watch merchants barter their trade.

Also known as the Western Wall, it is the most holy existing Jewish shrine. Built by King Herod to support the Temple Mount, the Romans destroyed most of the wall, Jerusalem and the holy temples in AD 70. (a pagan town followed, years later, and Jews were refused entry for generations.) Today, the devout flock to what remains of the Wall to mourn the destruction of their sacred temples and of their past persecutions. The swaying and davening display the powerful hold the Wall still has on the hearts of many Jews. Religious ceremonies are held here, and many take spiritual pilgrimages to the Wall. According to Christian tradition, the Temple Mount (gold dome above) is the site where Jesus will make his entry when he returns. Muslims revere it, also, as a holy site of lamentation; Muhammad was reported to have come to the Temple Mount to ascend to heaven.

The “Wailing” refers to earnest, whispered prayers of lament. Mounds of prayers are written on slips of paper and stuffed in cracks between the massive stones. (Peter is in the red shirt, bottom right, 1st photo.)

We skidded to a stop on the southern highway en route to the Dead Sea, to allow a herd of sheep to cross the road, shepherded by a stunningly beautiful Bedouin girl in a flowing black embroidered skirt and scarlet headscarf. We later passed camels grazing in the scrubby terrain and sleeping alongside the highway. Used to cart heavy loads, the camel pictured above ferried produce to the roadside kiosk.

60,000 Bedouins lead a traditional lifestyle in the Negev Desert. The family is structured like a business: Men make decisions about buying and selling livestock, and find new pastures; women do the cooking, weaving, searching for firewood, and often caring for the flocks. The animals supply milk, meat, hair for weaving, and dung for burning as fuel. (Black sheep are extremely valuable.) Marriages are arranged, taking the girl’s interest into account.

The present-day Bedouins trace their origins to nomads of the Arabian peninsula who wandered west, driven by the unending search for new grazing lands and water for their flocks. Bedouin men serve in the Israeli Army for two years, a requirement for all Israeli citizens. Due to their desert isolation, they live in peace with their Arab neighbors.

I'd hoped we'd be invited into their tented homes to share tea, like we did in Sudan, but we never encountered them again. They reside in greater numbers, further in the desert.

We arrived at the Dead Sea, a salt lake on the Israeli-Jordanian border, located 850’ below sea level, the world’s lowest water surface – it’s still dropping! Nearly 10 times as salty as the ocean, sufferers of psoriasis and rheumatic illnesses were taking mud baths in the nearby spas, and floating in the highly concentrated mineral waters to benefit from its natural healing powers.

Near here, the Dead Sea scrolls, which contain vast segments of the Old Testament, were discovered in a cave in 1947 by a Bedouin shepherd who was hiding from a storm. Because the parchment scrolls were wrapped in leather, he took them to a sandal maker to be turned into shoes. The shoemaker alerted a local antiquities dealer, who gave them to a professor at the University of Jerusalem. They are Israel's greatest archeological find, and greatly significant to Hebrew and Christian researchers.

We drove north inside the West Bank towards Nazareth, passing by Jericho, the world’s oldest city, where the majority of Arab settlers reside in peace with the Christian minority. The scenery was stunning, changing from barren desert to date palms and citrus groves.

North of the West Bank, we wandered amongst the ancient Byzantine and Roman city of Scythopolis (2nd - 6th centuries AD). Enormous marble statues graced the colonnade, which led to an elaborate temple of stately granite columns. Remaining were a bathhouse and amphitheater, where blood sports and gladiatorial combats were held. The two acre site lay in a tangle of daisies, fringed in date palms. We climbed to the top of the ruins to take in the panoramic view of Jordan and surrounding valleys.

The Romans had occupied Palestine, after booting out King Saul, who had established the 1st Jewish state - the Kingdom of Israel. Jewish temples and other holy sites were destroyed during the Roman occupation, and Jews were exiled for generations.

Muslim armies invaded the Romans, bringing Islam. The Ottoman Empire followed.

All Palestinian Territories – the West Bank (Bethlehem region), Gaza Strip (10 miles from our marina), and Golan Heights (bordering Syria) – required admittance through several checkpoints. Papers must be in order, and permission granted. A partial cement wall has been constructed at sensitive borders sites alongside the Territories, lessening re-occurring suicide bombers, but heightening tensions over the implied intent of ‘keeping separate’. Gentle diplomacy was not followed during building of the Wall, resulting in bitter feelings: Lands were bulldozed, forcing farmers to scramble for new pastures and nomadic desert dwellers to search for new space.

To gain understanding, we drove into Palestinian territories to educate ourselves of their politics by immersing ourselves in their culture, yearning for a personal experience. “Don’t go in there,” said the soldier staring us down inside the car. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I asked. “A Molotov cocktail can hit you or rocks can block the road for an ambush or a suicide bomber can approach you,” said the Israeli soldiers at the 9 checkpoints we encountered when entering Bethlehem. It was Easter – perfect timing to catch stupid tourists at religious sites. We went anyway, dodging tossed stale bread loaves in the street - as if disguised mines - and had a great time. Everyone was happy to see us. They refused payment for small sweets that kept us busy on the long stretch of desert road from the Israeli coast, across the Negev Desert in the south, to the Jordanian border on the Dead Sea, and then north to Nazareth.

Inside Bethlehem in the West Bank, we found our way along a warren of narrow lanes to the ancient Byzantine Church of the Nativity where it is believed Christ was born; it is dated 6th century. The interior was vast and gloomy, and the low entrance where Peter is standing was designed (16th century) to prevent worshipers from being attacked by Muslim invaders. We crawled into dark grottos to peer at spiritual monuments and colorful frescos, that hung framed in stained glass. Greek Orthodox priests huddled in corners with cell phones pressed to their ears, and Christian pilgrims paraded alongside us in a holy state of fervent reverence. One Armenian priest hefted a magnificent wooden cross across his right shoulder, donned in a remarkable robe.

Outside, Arab vendors sold us spicy falafel wrapped in hot pita bread, coffee merchants tooted their trade, and family clans donned in an array of ethnic dress wandered the cobbled stone streets. I chatted up a baker, who said Arabs and Israelis basically seek to live in peace, to be able to send their child off to school safely every morning, and then go about their business in peace. In Bethlehem, after dire warnings from Israeli soldiers, we found both races living in harmony - at least that day! Shortly after our passage to Turkey, however, political discontent escalated, and missiles dropped into Ashkelon (the marina where our boat had been berthed), launched from the Gaza Strip, 10 miles south of us. The day before our excursion into Bethlehem on Easter Monday, we'd driven to the Gaza Strip border, only to be denied entry by Israeli soldiers.

Israel lies in a ferment of Arabian conflict. Both Arabs and Israelis claim rights to own the historic homelands: Jews assert they have returned to lands first established by King Saul in the 11th century bc., given to them 4,000 years ago by their forefathers - Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; Palestinians have resided on the lands for centuries (the name Palestine was given by the Romans to erase all Jewish ties). Various wars have since arisen in modern times over the continuing conflict: the War of Independence, Six Day War, and Yon Kippur War. Today, the basic theme behind peace initiatives is trading land for peace.