What’s Old is New Again…
I’ll try to make this post a bit shorter than last week’s blowout. Had a good little stint in Haifa – the highlight, without a doubt, was the Baha’i Gardens. Baha’i is a religion founded in the middle of the 19th century and seems to be an open-minded sort of deal – they accept all the major prophets, and one isn’t born into the faith, you have to choose to become a member when you become an adult. Anyway, they have a mind-bending terraced garden in Haifa that employs 100 gardeners a day:
Rented a car just before the Shabbat shutdown – nothing much is open after 2 p.m. Friday, all the way until Sunday morning. Drove to a few major sights near Haifa. The first was Beit She’arim, which was once a major religious sight and a place where various rabbinic luminaries were buried. Pleasant place – not particularly exciting, but I had the car and wanted to pick off a few key sights – this was one of them.
Next up, Har Megiddo – say that fast and you get ‘Armageddon.’ This is where the Bible states that the final battle will take place. Now it’s just a beautiful hilltop with palm trees and ruins – there have been people living here for something like 8,000 years. There are 30 layers of civilizations that have been identified, putting it up there with places like Jericho. The hilltop is stunning, it’s a windy and dramatic place. Looking out to the fields below, you wonder what the ancients were smoking when they prophesied this place would be so prominent in the End of Days:
The waterworks were quite a feat of engineering…as with the City of David in Jerusalem, they found a way to tunnel to the local spring such that they could withstand a long siege.
Finally, visited Caesaria, King Herod’s beachfront city. As I drove up to the coast the landscape changed drastically – lots of sanddunes, reminded me of Martha’s Vineyard. They’ve done a pretty good job reconstructing the ruins and giving the place the feel of a city…
There’s even a diveshop on premises, apparently you can dive some ruins there. The water was probably freezing and I didn’t even think about it.
Went for a run that night, down to the harbor area – solid outing. Got back to the Port Inn and was walking to a fence to stretch down when I heard something and saw a small stone bouncing on the ground nearby. Started stretching, heard some voices above me and looked up. A couple kids were up there in an apartment – looked like they still had Christmas lights up, I figured they were Arab Christians. The kids proceeded to chuck a small rock my way, they missed and I yelled at them to stop throwing rocks. I called them ‘little brats’ for good measure. They didn’t throw another – not sure if they were out of rocks (do you keep rocks in your apartment/house?) or if I cowed them. A fellow walking bye shouted at them in Arabic and they left the balcony and went inside. He looked over to me and said ‘you’re right, they’re little brats’ and smiled. I had to laugh.
Rock throwing is a common pastime here. Makes sense, I suppose – Arab kids don’t have much else with which to express their resistance and anger. But it’s also way beyond the pale much of the time – for example, Jordanian kids throw rocks at bicyclists and there have been some serious injuries. You don’t see many people riding bikes in Jordan, that’s one reason why.
That night, wanted to check out some bars atop Mt. Carmel, which overlooks the city and which houses the Baha’i Gardens on one side. It’s an imposing hill and not that easy to walk up – Haifa has a tiny metro, just one line, which climbs the hill. But it’s closed at night, so you either take a pricey cab or walk up. I did the latter – took 45 minutes, but I got there. Went to the Beer House, which had all sorts of beers – most overpriced, so I just went with the local Goldstar brew, which is very nice. There was a Warren Beattie movie on, without the sound – pretty humorous. Warren Beattie doesn’t seem to me to be that great an actor – though I loved ‘Heaven Can Wait,’ it’s probably one of my all-time favorites.
Had another beer at the Bear Pub, pretty tame. Then caught a cab back down the hill, believe it or not. Walking down wouldn’t have been that bad, but it was fairly late, it was shockingly cold, and I just didn’t feel like a 30-minute walk home. Walking up the hill and cabbing down…sometimes sheer illogic is my middle name.
As I walked into my hotel I heard from a nearby bar the song ‘Video Killed the Radio Star’ by the Buggles – one of my alltime favorites. Almost walked over to that bar, Barki, for a final drink, but thought better of it and went into the hotel. I need to be getting up early here in Israel and seeing the sights – lying in bed all morning isn’t in the cards.
Had to return the car the next morning, and first wanted to see Elijah’s Cave, where the great prophet supposedly hid from King Ahab after slaying a bunch of pagan priests. Managed to find the cave, on the outskirts of town – somewhat modest affair but worth the short visit.
Filled up the gas tank and returned to car. Back to the hotel, packed, and checked out. Renting a car is generally worth it here, it’s pretty cheap and some sights are far-flung…but it also involves some complex maneuvers, particularly when Shabbat is involved. And you don’t want to return the car late – they give you 24 hours plus an hour grace period, after that you pay for another day. So there’s always a bit of stress involved.
Everyone smokes here, by the way. My new fleece jacket already reeks. Reminds me of Japan.
Took a train up to Akko for a few hours. Akko was the the Crusader fortress of Acre, and it’s remarkably well-preserved. Had lunch on the harbor…walked around the old streets and saw the sights…imagined how it was in medieval times. Apparently Marco Polo dined in the Templar Fortress here…
Back to Haifa, a bit groggy from my running around. Picked up my stuff at Port Inn, then walked to the bus stop to catch a bus to Nazareth – which pulled up in 5 minutes. A short time later, I was in Nazareth center. I’m coming to like these small countries – it doesn’t take long to cover the important ground.
The bus was mostly empty…was it because it was a Sunday night, or because of concern about the Gaza bombings and potential suicide bombers in Israel? I got on the bus with my big pack and daypack, and I think I noticed some people looking at me with concern. For my part, I glanced back at the fat kid in the last row a couple times, he was by himself back there and I imagined him carefully setting up a bomb. Then again, there were never more than 5-6 people on the bus, Nazareth’s the largest Arab city in Israel, and all of the hundreds of public buses in the country, this is probably not high up on the target list. I put it out of my mind and listened to KickBong on my iPod.
Had a booking at the Sisters of Nazareth Convent, which has rooms for pilgrims and travelers. Terrific spot – it’s right across from the Basilica of the Annunication. Never stayed in a convent before…good thing I wasn’t in the mood to party, because they lock you out at 10:30 p.m. I was so tired I wouldn’t even be able to make it that long. Dumped my packs and went out for dinner. Walked around the center city and noticed that a couple storefront windows were smashed, as were two ATMs right there. Probably not the normal state of affairs – must have been some kids angry at the Gaza situation. Nazareth does feel a bit more tense than other places I’ve been.
Had a good meal at El-Rida Café. Mushrooms in cheese sauce and a glass of spiced wine. Good fare for a chilly night. Man, I’ll be happy to get away from this winter weather in a few days…
Got up early the next day and checked out the Basilica, where, it’s said, the Virgin Mary lived (her ‘house’ was in a grotto which is set into the lower floor of the modern church) and where she was told by the angel Gabriel (I think) that she was pregnant with Jesus. The church itself is newish, and fairly impressive. It’s on top of some excavated ruins of the old city, which stretch back to First Temple times.
Perhaps the coolest thing about the church is the set of images outside, ringing the church, from many different countries – these images depict Mary and baby Jesus, and are often quite local in their interpretations. Check out these Asian versions:
There are a few more sights int Nazareth – the Church of St. Joseph, located where Joseph’s carpenter shop supposedly was, Mary’s Well, where the Greek Orthodox believe that Mary was told by Gabriel about Jesus, and St. Gabriel’s Church. The city itself has some cool old streets and hills, and a number of crumbling Ottoman-era mansions. Not much else, but plenty good for a night and a few hours of daytime wandering.
Had a very good breakfast of fuul (fava bean paste) and pita. Sometimes the aftermath of these foods can be deadly, but at least they’re real food and not processed junk.
Wandering around, saw an Internet café sign and went to the door. A young guy there let me in, turns out he’s a hairdresser looking to get a Canadian visa, his family runs the little café. Nice guy – told me how hard it was to make a living here, and that he was desperate to go abroad and make something of himself there. You hear a lot of that from Arabs in Israel – fairly depressing.
Wanted to see one more church, the Mensa Christ Church, which has a stone table (mensa) where, supposedly, Christ and the apostles dined after the Resurrection (I think). It was closed, but a streetsweeper told me that a woman living next door had the key. The streetsweeper looked and sounded American – turned out he was from Canada and had come to Israel 30 years ago. Nice guy – I think he was happy to meet a fellow North American, sweeping the streets of Nazareth can’t be all that intellectually rewarding of a career.
Got into the church, the stone was huge and looked big enough for an expansive dinner. Went out, saw a sign in English explaining the church – the English was hilarious, there was a bit in there about Jesus eating a stone, I believe they had meant he ate on a stone table. That’s what you get when you go for the cheapo translation service…
Next stop was Tiberias, on the Sea of Galilee. Only 45 minutes away, but a pain to get to. The bus doesn’t run that often. Waited an hour at the bus stop – then bailed and had lunch. Went back, and after another hour it finally came. Ran into the Canadian streetsweeper again at the bus stop – he was heading home on the local bus, to Ilit (Upper) Nazareth. Funny dude.
Had a booking at Avis and was supposed to get my car that afternoon, but I was running late and had no use for a car at night. Called and changed my booking to the next morning. They were very friendly on the phone and entirely flexible – ‘no problem Mikhail!’ was their response. I like it.
The Nazareth bus stop is right across the street from Mary’s Well. That’s what I love about Israel – something thousands of years old, and historically renowned, is cheek-by-jowl with a modern-day institution like a bus stop.
There was a stunning Arab woman waiting for a while at the bus stop. Wild hair, tight pants, long boots…meow! But what a dichotomy, too – the rest of the women there were pudgy, with loose-fitting clothing and hijabs. Like old biddies. Sometimes I wish Eve didn’t tempt Adam with that apple…
Noticed that a Nazareth main street – I think the street where the bus station sits – is ‘Menachem Begin Street.’ Man, the local Arabs must love that.
Eventually got to Tiberius – the tackiness of which approach, and perhaps exceeded, that of Yalta and Sevastopol. It’s one of Judaism’s holy cities, but to my eye it was a crappy lakeside town whose sole value was to provide access to the lake and to outlying areas of Israel. I didn’t have any reason to change my mind during my two days there.
Checked into Hotel Aviv – the owner managed to upsell me on a better room. I played 20 questions with him – he asked if I was Jewish, because Christians wouldn’t have asked so many questions. We were both Jewish, we came to an accommodation, that was that. Went for a run along the sea, which was OK – nice and flat, but the sea was mostly obscured by ‘clubs’ and random buildings.
Went out to see the town and have dinner. Tiberius is pretty small, and the dining seems to be grouped into informal little places and ripoff seafood places along the shore. Just had a piece of pizza and walked around some more – really, not much of note. There are some hot springs/spa/baths outside of town, but I wasn’t in the mood to partake. So went back to my room just a couple hours after heading out.
Watched a bit of TV, for once. They had Fox News and not much else. Fox News is simply embarrassing – crass, fat and stupid anchors and correspondents just looking for the slightest excuse to slam Obama and his crew. Rupert Murdoch should be ashamed of himself. This isn’t journalism.
Got my car the next morning. I had requested a manual transmission and actually got it – was thrilled. Hadn’t drove a manual in a few years, and was missing it. Driving an automatic is so boring, particularly after being on a motorbike. The car was, as in Haifa, a little Hyundai, felt like a tin box, but it was easy to maneuver and good on petrol, so I was very pleased as I pulled out of town and headed north.
First stop was Caperneum, where Jesus supposedly preached and found his first few apostles. A few ruins and a newish church over them. Came across a crowd of African Christians, as I had at the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem and a couple other spots. The usual shouting, rhyming preacher, adoring crowds. Not sure how I feel about that – I guess this is where the religion is going, Africa and Latin America are probably the only places where growth is likely. But these people were so loud and noisy that I felt compelled to move on pretty quickly. Good for them that they get so excited by their religion – but noise does not always equal fervor and I wonder how many of them were just going through the motions…
Drove up to Tsfat, the center of Jewish Kabbala. Didn’t linger in this mountainside town, the highest in the country. Took a few photos and moved on. Wouldn’t mind coming back and spending a few days here – people say the place grows on you and has a special feeling. I think Kabbala is a load of horseshit…but maybe Madonna knows something I don’t.
Drove through the rustic resort town on Rosh Pina, looked around but again didn’t stay long. I only had the car for a day and had some ground to cover. Drove up through Kiryat Shmona, famous because it’s not far from the Lebanese border and gets some incoming Katyusha from time to time. It probably wasn’t a great time to be testing the border, but I got through nondescript Kiryat Shmona quickly and drove up to Metula, right on the border. I figured that Hezbollah would, if they got into the battle, would lob bombs farther into Israel, and that being on the border was actually quite safe. If Hezbollah bombs fell inside Lebanon, the Lebanese Army would have to get involved.
Metula was a quiet little place. Very few people out and about. Drove pretty close to the ‘Good Fence,’ the border crossing closed in 2000 or so. Nice name. Saw a fair few armored vehicles driving around, but the border area in general wasn’t swarming with troops or guards, I could have gotten very close to the actual frontier – but why tempt the fates?
Drove up to Dado Lookout and from there could see quite far into Lebanon – lots of barbed wire but generally beautiful land. Certainly not heavily farmed, at least not these days…
Heard a few bursts of gunfire – one of the armies was probably having their target practice. Hmmm…my fake French passport wouldn’t save me from that.
After looking around, drove south and headed towards the Golan Heights. As I left Metual, a sign said ‘come back soon.’ Yeah, right. As I drove I saw 5-6 heavily armored Hummers going north – maybe General Motors will make it after all…
Got into the Golan, which is spectacular – hills and valleys, quite green, and lots to see. Started at Banias Nature Reserve, there’s a 10-meter waterfall and walking track, and some Herodian ruins near the springs. ‘Banias’ comes from ‘Pan,’ the pagans used to worship Pan (one of my favorite gods, by the way) right here and I’ll bet they used to really get down.
Then drove up to Nimrod Fortress, a stunning castle on a relatively high hilltop. The fortress itself is pretty well-preserved and larger than it looks – I spent a good hour combing the ruins.
Had intended to have a late lunch at the Witch’s Cauldron & the Milkman, a renowned resto in the nearby village, but it was already about 3 p.m. when I came down from Nimrod and also I wasn’t quite sure where the resto was. And I wanted to check out another spot or three before the sun set at 5 p.m., so I blew off lunch and motored on.
After Nimrod, heading east towards Syria, the Golan got rockier and more lunar in appearance. The western and central parts were pretty green, now it was more austere. I could feel the ominous presence of Syria (drumroll, please). Got to Mt. Bental, a former Syrian lookout/military spot pre-1967 – there are still ruined turrets and other military hardware up there. The Israelis have placed some tacky cutout soldiers there as well. But the views are amazing and from here you really start to grasp how strategic the Golan is:
During the 1973 Yom Kippur War the Syrians came at the Israelis through a couple passes near here – apparently the Syrian tanks weren’t hard to spot from Mt. Bental, but the Israelis were complacent/arrogant and they didn’t take steps to prevent the war.
The Golan towns aren’t anything special – mostly they’re stuck in the middle between Israel and Syria, and their development has been haphazard. Why would Israel invest heavily if they might give back the Golan someday? The countryside, though, is terrific and I could have spent days wandering around. Next time.
Drove back to the Sea of Galilee. Was hoping to drop into a winery and try their wares, but it was nearly 5 p.m. and getting dark. And these places are mostly appointment-only. My strategy was to drive right up to one of them, and call and beg for a quickie tasting. But I must have overshot the wineries and wound up past them, still on the lake – so decided to just drive the entire way round, back to Tiberias. At least I got a good sense of the lake and surrounding area.
Long day – the Galilee and the Golan in one day. Overly ambitious, but I had a good time. Took a long nap, then went for another run on the lake. I’m now in solid shape – pants are getting loose and I have plenty of stamina. About fucking time.
Went to Avi’s Restaurant that night to try ‘St. Peter’s Fish,’ a local Galilee fish that’s mild and popular. They lightly fry it and serve it with a ton of salads and chips. Very good meal. But at the same time, I could use a bowl of noodles, or something spicy. When I get to Bangkok I may be hard to stop for a couple days…
Read the International Herald Trib. Noticed that the Ukrainian hryvnia is down 40% since I was there in September. Unreal. Ukraine was surprisingly pricey back then, but right now it probably feels quite reasonable. What timing I have…
Not much nightlife so hit the sack. Avoided watching Fox News.
Had to return the car the next morning, so again took advantage of the grace hour Avis provides and drove to a couple sites. Couldn’t find the tomb of Rabbi Akiva, but found another one, Rabbi Hiyya. Thought they might be one and the same – bad Jew that I am – as Hebrew translated into English has flexible spelling. Turns out that Akiva’s buried a bit farther up the hill. Then found the tomb of Maimonides, a famous Sephardic physician/rabbi – a bit of confusion here again, as he’s often called ‘Rambam’ but I had forgotten about that, so at first thought these were two different men. What a morning. Tiberius, in addition to being a tacky place, is also rough on tourists who aren’t rabbinic historians…do your homework better than I did before visiting.
By this point I was tired of indie sight-seeing. Returned the car and was happy to again be unencumbered…Tiberius is a hard town to drive in, lots of one-ways and one particular terrifying spot where you sit and wait forever as cars race down the hill and miss you by a foot.
Checked email before my bus to Jerusalem came. Saw one in there from friend Wild Bill, who was sitting in a tavern in New York, reminiscing about our drinking misadventures at Rocky Sullivan’s back in the day. Bill’s note was a bit weepy…and he mentioned that I’d done a great job with this blog…so I figured he was quite deep in the drink and perhaps wasn’t getting his banker’s bonus this season. Bill, if I’m being overly cynical, sorry old bud…you presented the opening.
Back to Jerusalem – 3 hour bus ride, very easy. Checked back into the Golden Gate Inn, saw Sarah the manager straightaway, got the same room, felt like I was returning home in a sense. Decided to reinforce that sense by going for a run round the Old City walls. This was my 3rd or 4th time doing this, and I finally had it down pat. I knew which hills were coming up, I was in pretty good shape, and I made it round without stopping. I also enjoyed the run – at one point you’re above Absalom’s Pillar, it’s nicely lit and you feel like you’re racing through history. Also ran by, on Mt. Zion, Schindler’s grave. Got back to the hotel feeling better than I had in a while.
Traded Facebook messages with cousin Sara, who’s still settling in here. Decided to meet in a day or so. Went out for dinner and a beer or three…ran into Sarah from Golden Gate Inn on the street, she told me that a group from ‘Christian Peace Coalition’ or something like that had just checked into the hotel. They go out to the territories and interview Palestinians, and do their best to try to form a barrier of sorts between the Israeli ‘security’ forces and the locals. And they see some serious shit, from what Sarah was telling me. I was about to jump into the fray – I was going on an ‘alternative tour’ of Bethlehem and Hebron the very next day.
Noticed I had a bunch of missed calls from the same number. Called it back – it was George, the Bethlehem fellow who was guiding my tour the next day. He wanted me to come to Bethlehem on the bus, and not meet me in the Old City. OK…he told me which bus to take, I wasn’t that concerned about going by myself. Felt a bit like going to see Grandma on the plane when I was 6 years old or thereabouts.
Had a couple beers in the Dublin Pub – and watched an NBA game on a classic sports program channel. It was from May 1989, a playoff game between Chicago and Cleveland, featuring a young Michael Jordan. I graduated from university in 1989…I guess now my young adulthood belongs to the annals of history…
The ride to Bethlehem went fine, found a minivan after some searching and got on. It was mostly empty, I think I was going against ‘Palestinian traffic,’ there are apparently thousands coming the other way, into Israel, in the morning. A furious discussion took place between the driver and an old passenger, the only word I could really make out was ‘Hezbollah.’ Hmmm. I kept my mouth shut, and my USA passport in my pocket.
Minivan stopped at a terminal-like building that turned out to be a formal checkpoint operation – had to show my passport, have my daypack checked, etc. Bit of a clusterfuck, but I heard that the Palestinians entering Israel have it very bad – 5,000 line up at 1 a.m. to get in throughout the morning. There are only a few booths, so it goes slow. I can only imagine what a long night that must be. I’ll never complain about Tokyo’s Narita Airport immigration process again…
What follows may turn some of you off, but it’s straight from the gut. The day went pretty much as expected, I had signed up for this ‘alternative tour’ which was to include a look at the ‘Separation Wall,’ a refugee camp (as close as we could get to one, anyway), Israeli settlements, and talks with some local intelligentsia. And I got what was promised, and a bit more. Here goes…
The Bethlehem checkpoint presented the first example of arrogance, or at least condescension. I showed my passport, the guards were two youths who I thought were a bit mocking of my being an American and wanting to enter the West Bank. They didn’t give me any trouble, per se, but I felt a fair amount of negative energy and overconfidence – something I felt during the entire day. They were fascinated by my fat passport, and looked through it for a minute or two…then one asked me if I like Obama, to which I said yes. I asked them if they did too – I wasn’t 100% sure what they said in response, but I think one said that he didn’t know, ‘Obama’s black.’ Charming. No surprise that Jews can be as racist as anyone, but you’d think that given our history, we’d at least make an effort not to discriminate. Right.
On the Bethlehem side, bought a cup of tea from a friendly local while I waited for George to come and get me. Got a hundred taxi offers, biz doesn’t look too good there. The tea vendor invited me to come and have dinner with his family…I tend to discount these offers, but in any event he was friendly and that helped get me back to equilibrium after the checkpoint annoyance. Then George showed and off we went.
We picked up 3 more tourists – all Americans. Matt had just finished university and was on a Birthright program tour of Israel…Betty was a professor of Women’s Studies and Anthropology at Wichita State University (she was shocked when I told her I knew the WSU sports nickname is the ‘Shockers’), and her student Kristen, who’s a recent convert to Islam and is a vegan to boot. Betty and Kristin had already spent some time in the West Bank (Betty a lot of time), and both came in very pro-Palestinian and anti-Zionist. Matt and I, both Jewish, came in with open minds and wanted to see the good, the bad, and the ugly. Mission accomplished, and how.
Started the program with breakfast with a Palestinian professor/author, Mazen, who taught at Yale, I believe, and did some road shows at US universities before moving back here recently. Pleasant fellow – not hard to detect where his sympathies lay. His thesis, presented gently but firmly, was that Israel is a colonial power, acts in completely colonial ways, and actually does not want any two-state or one-state solution – it wants the status quo, in which it can continue to grab land and squeeze Palestinians onto smaller, more marginal bits of land while expropriating the best for themselves. Israel doesn’t want peace, it wants conflict, to push this process along and to feed its military-industrial machine. To the prof, it’s that simple.
I told him I found that pretty cynical…that it didn’t incorporate the Jewish sense of victimhood and the memory of the Holocaust into the equation…and that many, probably most of the Israeli public, and perhaps its politicians, wanted some solution and not the status quo. I couldn’t cite any numbers or roll out any convincing data…but neither could he. His arguments were more streamlined than mine, then again he spends most of his time on the topic and I don’t. I’m not sure how he felt being challenged like this – Matt was keeping pretty quiet, and Betty and Kristen had gone for his argument hook line and sinker.
Anyway, we kept it civil…and I had found it interesting to hear his points. Nothing was entirely novel, I’d read these before, but reading something and hearing it presented live are two different things.
The paradox here, in my opinion, is that there are so many layers to the conflict that it doesn’t make sense to just talk about what’s happening right now (‘Hamas fired rockets at southern Israel’ vs. ‘Israel won’t give back the West Bank’), the historical context is critical to making sense of the mess. But the paradox kicks in because, IMHO, you almost need to put aside the past and start with a clean slate of paper – both sides can point fingers ad infinitum, the best way to solve the conflict is to decide what’s an acceptable end-state and work backwards from there. Of course, easier said than done.
From there, we went to see a couple sections of the ‘Separation Wall’, which the locals call the ‘Apartheid Wall.’ Some incredible graffiti there…some of it quite moving. Some humorous, some hard to classify – one person had stenciled ‘Ich Bin Ein Berliner’ in huge letters. Kristen didn’t know what that meant – unreal. Here was a 20-something American girl who had converted to Islam and was nodding her head furiously to the arguments the prof had been making, and to the points George was making, and yet she had no clue about a famous moment in American – and world – history, a moment that at least the graffiti artist (unlikely an American) had found relevant and I agreed was relevant to the new wall here. Weak.
I don’t like walls, short and simple. The Berlin Wall was fated to fall…this wall is full of bad karma and will fall one day too…and I thought about the wall the USA is building on its Mexican border. Walls don’t work that well, and create so much bad will (and an easy target for hatred) that they’re a net negative. You could argue that every wall has a different purpose, but those differences are tactical – the overarching objective for all walls is to keep one group out. This wall has the added aggravation of being built in parts of the West Bank that were supposed to be handed back to the Palestinians – so it’s not only separating, but it’s seizing as well. You’d think that Jews, with their experience in the European ghettos during WW2, would know better. More on this in a bit.
Throughout the morning George was pointing out Israeli settlements – legal and illegal – which surrounded Bethlehem. I think he said there were 29 of them, and some were quite developed, looking like little cities. I didn’t like this – I’ve never been a fan of the settlers, and I can’t see how having settlements in the West Bank helps Israeli security or will lead to any sort of peace. Of course, the prof’s argument comes into play here – if Israel doesn’t really want peace, and just wants land with no Palestinians on it, then this fits right in.
We proceeded to Manger Square…there was a anti-Gaza bombing protest there. Fairly calm, later we heard that some of the protestors tried to get close to the Israeli soldiers at a checkpoint but that the Palestinian Authority guards kept them at bay.
Went into the Church of the Nativity – George showed us around, and eventually we descended into the grotto where Jesus was supposedly born, marked with a silver star:
Interesting, but much less than than the contemporary issues we were coming up against.
Had a great lunch of hummos, fuul, falafel, and pita. Burp. Rolled out of there and caught a minivan to Hebron, our next stop. Skirted the growing disturbance, which was centered near Rachel’s Tomb. The PA cops were trying to keep a gang of youths at bay – these PA cops are really the meat in the sandwich, stuck between their own people and the Israelis.
Got to Hebron in a half hour or so, didn’t get stopped at any checkpoint. Which I think was unusual.
We walked into the old city, which is fairly well-preserved, or at least restored. Hebron was a real eye-opener, mainly because there’s an enclave of 300-400 Jews living in the middle of an Arab Palestinian city of 170,000. Weird. And the Jewish areas – there are a couple that we saw – are literally welded shut and blocked by barbed wire, fences, and military gates so that locals can’t enter. You have 2,000 Israeli guards protecting 400 settlers. The guards apparently hate the job…who wouldn’t? The settlers must be fucking crazy to want to live in Hebron – they live like caged animals, despite getting preferential treatment with water, electricity, space, etc.
The two sides do not, suffice it to say, co-exist peacefully. The old city alleys and streets have fence above the streets, because the settlers often live in apartment buildings that tower above these streets, and they toss their garbage (and sometime dirty water, rocks, and worse) down on the Palestinians below. Very ugly. Check it out:
The Israelis have tried to clear the old city, at least sections proximate to the settlers, by closing hundreds of shops, welding them shut. Entire streets of Hebron are ghostly quiet and empty. Really haunting. And I heard that settlers have been known to attack Palestinians on the street, then hide behind soldiers, or take off. Charming.
Our eventual goal was the Tomb of the Patriarchs, aka the Cave of Machpelah, where Abraham, Sarah, his sons and their spouses are entombed (supposedly). After looking around the old city and getting a sense for the settler situation there, we passed through a checkpoint (there are over 100 in the city itself – imagine that) to get to the Tomb. Betty and Kristen went ahead of us…when I got through I heard Betty dressing down a young soldier, saying ‘in our country you can choose whatever religion you like.’ Apparently the young guard had seen Kristen’s hijab and outfit and asked her why she, an American woman, had converted. Not sure what Kristen said in response, but the guard then apparently said that she had made a mistake. Very cheeky, and totally uncalled for. Again, Jews should know much better.
There were Muslim prayers taking place, so we had a half hour to kill. Walked down to a street that’s off-limits to the locals, except for a handful who work there. It’s a street entirely set aside for Jewish settlers – there’s even a cultural center there. We had to parley with a couple bored soldiers there, then climb over a short concrete barrier. The soldiers asked if we were Jewish – Matt and I said yes. They eventually let Betty and Kristen in, and George as well, but they gave them a hard time. It was all very tawdry and unpleasant. The street was deathly quiet and there was one shop open, we went in and checked it out. The owner is Palestinian and he was so happy to see tourists that he almost cried. Betty bought something from him, and we chatted for a while.
We walked back to the Tomb, and had to deal with two layers of security to enter. The Baruch Goldstein 1994 massacre had lead to the current heavy security, which is understandable…but the Israeli guards gave George a hard time and kept hold of his West Bank ID card while he was inside. They were OK with the rest of us, but I did detect some hostility towards Kristen, and they weren’t all that friendly towards the rest of us. Again, it seemed to be a case of ‘why the hell do you want to be in the West Bank, foreigners?’ Even though this is a place that’s one of the holiest sites in each of the monotheistic religions…
Again, I had the sense that these guards had a terrible job and didn’t much enjoy it. But, I felt there were transgressions – I watched as an older Palestinian woman walked by the Tomb and a young Israeli female soldier/guard yelled to her. The woman didn’t stop – probably didn’t hear / didn’t understand Hebrew / didn’t know she was the target. Eventually she turned and came over to the guard, who went through her purse, then let her proceed. What was the security justification for that move? All it did was demonstrate to the older woman that a young Israeli girl could pull her over and humiliate her in a low-grade fashion. I watched the entire thing with distaste and a bit of shock.
My head was spinning as we enter the Tomb, a place I’ve always wanted to visit. I decided to synthesize my thoughts after checking out the Tombs. The place is divided into a mosque and a synagogue, most of the tombs are in the former. We walked around and saw Abraham’s tomb:
Sarah’s here:
You’ve also got Isaac, Jacob and their wives interred there. Note that the actual tomb is a level below, you can’t go down there, and the caretaker said no one had been down there in memory. Candles are lowered down on this contraption, and that’s as close as you get to what may be the final, 4000-year-old resting place of Father Abraham and his brood:
Solemn and impressive place. Felt like the air was heavy with history…at the same time it wasn’t overwrought, on the floor next to Abraham’s tomb I noticed a few pieces of paper lying there, and there were various bits of repair/construction going on. I told George I’d give anything to be able to go to the tomb and see what’s really there. He told me that the Canaanites buried people in rock-hewn cavities and that if this is really the burial place, the tomb itself might still be in decent shape. I had wondered aloud whether the place was flooded/covered in garbage/etc., and in any event Abraham might be a fictional character…but maybe not.
George showed us a few covered bullet holes from the Baruch Goldstein attack in 1994.
Walked out and back into the old city – a few dealings with the guards, but not too bad. Started to think through the day – the morning discussion with the prof seemed ages ago. Here’s what I came up with:
-First, a few principles. Children should never be targeted or hurt; people should be treated with decency; etc. There’s no excuse for ever violating these principles.
-Second, some things are beyond pure logic/law, and are in the domain of emotion. I fully support Israel’s founding and right to exist, despite the trauma it caused others. I’m Jewish, I lost relatives to the Holocaust, and I think the creation of Israel was critical to the survival of the Jewish people.
-Third, I refuse to give my blanket support to all things Israeli, including so-called security measures. What I observed during the day disgusted me – soldiers taunting Muslims, settlements all over the West Bank, etc. These things are absolutely wrong.
-Fourth, it seems to me that both sides deserve each other. Depressing, and cynical perhaps, but that’s my sense.
-Fifth, I think that a two-state solution is the best approach, and sooner rather than later. I didn’t really buy the prof’s argument that Israel will drag this out forever – if for no other reason than the demographics will make the Palestinian Arabs the larger group in a few decades’ time. But I also can’t really say that he’s wrong – what we’re observing could be interpreted to support his thesis. My overall sense is that the occupation has been incredibly poisonous for Israel, not worth it, and the bad energy is palpable. We’ve turned Jews into, not heroic soldiers, but security guards who seemed a scary copy of Nazi ghetto guards in WW2. Watching the guards harass Palestinians merely trying to move about the(ir) city drained the life out of me and gave me a very bad vibe.
With regard to what’s going on right now – I’ve generally been supportive of Israel doing something to stop the rockets coming in from Gaza. I haven’t been happy with the level of civilian/child casualties, not at all, but understand it’s hard to have none, particularly when Hamas seems to fire its rockets from densely populated areas. Still, I wonder where the diplomacy is – and whether there’s any way to break this vicious cycle. To my earlier point about time horizons and paradox…the two sides are stuck in a never-ending cycle of accusations, hatred and violence, and I think it’ll take a powerful outside force, or person (Obama?) to break the inertial chain, like the case of having an allergy or other chronic condition. Stopping the fucking settlements, and dismantling the existing ones, seems to me to be the place to start.
One more thought on this. I think it’s a terrible idea to let men under the age of 40 hold a gun. They can’t handle it. Believe me.
The day ended – George drove Matt and I back to the Bethlehem checkpoint. He called his pregnant wife – and called her ‘baby’ when she picked up. Aren’t we all pretty damn similar, despite everything? George had lived abroad and spent times in the States, and I met other Palestinians who had similar experiences. 99% of Palestinians are not fundamentalist Muslims running around shooting guns – most of them, in fact, are as or less religious than many Israeli Jews. Ramallah is known for having quite a few fun bars and discos…
BTW, Matt was finishing up a stint in the Birthright program, which brings foreign Jews over for a look-see, and pays most of the way. Quite cool – I don’t think I’d ever heard of this program, unfortunately. If I had, I would definitely have gone for it when younger. Matt also told me that the Madoff scandal had hit the program hard and that it was being severely cut back or perhaps even closed – just awful.
Got back to Damascus Gate – walked down the steps to the entrance. Noticed some tourists pulling wheeled suitcases – they came to the first set of steps, then backtracked and took a ramp down a level. They came to the second level of steps – and then went back and a long way round to a final, long ramp down. They probably walked hundreds of meters to avoid carrying their suitcases down 20 steps. Incredible. At least the locals here – Jews and Arabs – aren’t such prima donnas…
Walked around the ‘American Colony’ a bit last night. Went into the chi-chi American Colony Hotel to check out the lobby and the well-known Cellar Bar, where many a journalist has sit and composed over drinks. It was full and there were no seats available, so I left and walked to the city center, my usual haunt. Had some kibbeh, and a couple beers, then called it a night.
This morning, at breakfast, I overheard a woman (American – surprised?) with that ‘Christian Peace Coalition’ group ask ‘what’s an aliyah?’ Not a common term, I know, and most of you probably won’t know it – but this woman is here in Israel to dig into the seams of the society and she should have done her fucking homework. An aliyah is when a foreign Jew immigrates to Israel. Not that hard to learn, or grasp.
Did a bit of final Jerusalem sight-seeing before leaving for Tel Aviv. Went to the Greek Patriarchate to see the Prison of Christ, where Jesus was supposedly held before undergoing the Stations of the Cross. Cavelike place – somewhat interesting. No idea if it’s the real place or not. Then walked towards the Jewish Quarter, for a final look at the Wailing Wall and a local museum. En route, I was ambling along and lost in my thoughts, as I often am. At one point, near Via Dolorosa, I thought I heard some shouting, and turned around – an Israeli guard/soldier/cop, a guy in his mid-40s, was striding towards me, saying something in Hebrew. I couldn’t understand him, and asked ‘can I help you?’ He replied ‘why didn’t you stop?’ I told him, a bit testily, that I hadn’t really heard him and that there were dozens of people around, so his yelling could have been directed at them. I told him I was an American Jew going to the Wailing Wall. I pulled out my passport and thrust it at him. He got the point, and said ‘you don’t have to be angry.’ I said I was quite annoyed and didn’t like getting accosted in the street. He repeated his line, that I shouldn’t be angry. I wondered aloud why I appeared to be a security risk. He didn’t say anything, and handed back my passport. He said ‘good day’ and I took my passport and walked off without another word.
I wondered what that was all about. It was a Friday, Muslim Sabbath, in the Muslim Quarter, and security is always heavy for that. But I was dressed very much like a foreign tourist (hiking boots, sahara pants, fleece) and I couldn’t understand his game. Was he trying to lord his authority over a foreigner? Did he have some intelligence on me – did he know that I’d been hanging around the West Bank yesterday? If so, how did he know that? Possible, perhaps, but doubtful. All I knew was that I was very annoyed – and could understand/indentify with how Palestinians must feel all the fucking time. And I was angry for a couple hours afterward – I breezed by the Wailing Wall, I visited the Burnt House Museum (Jewish priest’s house, burned by the Romans), but did so quickly and without enthusiasm. My perhaps guilty feelings from the West Bank visit felt 99% vindicated. I didn’t feel good about having my sentiments confirmed by a bit of data, but I couldn’t do anything about it – that was my reality. Welcome to Israel. I think any Zionist roots I’ve got are being dissolved by incidences like these…
Felt that I’d seen enough, went back to the hotel to cool off a bit and then finish writing this post – just so you know, the West Bank part was written before my encounter with the guard.
Shabbat loomed. Said goodbye to Sarah, the manager at Golden Gate Inn – we’ve had some brilliant conversations over the course of my two stays there. I think we’re both seekers, in a sense, and she helped me get a much better grasp of the complexities of the situation here in Israel. I wish her the best in her life journey.
Called cousin Sara – went over to her new place to say hi, and bye, before heading to Tel Aviv.
Tonight in Tel Aviv I plan to meet up with a friend of a friend, Yaron, who used to be in a joint venture with old college buddy Charles. Should be a boozy night – anyway, I can sleep in late on Saturday. Then I fly through Istanbul to Bangkok, where, I hope, I’ll be welcomed by warm air, spicy food, and smiling people. The land of Israel has been a revelation…and I can only take so much revelation at a time – that’s probably obvious from this post. Israel, despite my gripes in this post, has felt like something of a home(land), warts and all. I need to contemplate these past weeks in a lot more depth. Over and out.
Tags: 1, Travel
mbsloney
Leave a Reply