I remember feeling really excited when the bus pulled into the main station in Jerusalem. Just looking out of the window I could see it was so different from the parts of Israel I had visited already. Compared to bare-legged and tube-top wearing girls in Eilat, many of the girls here dressed conservatively with long sleeves and long skirts. I was most struck by how adorable the little Jewish boys were with their long locks framing their faces. I’m not sure if I’d ever seen religious Jewish people before I got to Jerusalem but it was very refreshing to see after being in the jalabiya and burqa filled Arab world.
Jerusalem is something of a religious man’s playground with very important places of worship for Muslims, Christians, and Jews. The Old City, in fact, has a section dedicated to each group in addition to an Armenian Quarter; it is also yet another UNESCO World Heritage Site I have happened upon. I did my best to visit as many sites as possible but not being religious or all that interested in history, I skipped anything I had to pay for or that required extra effort to visit.
*You could see graffiti/artwork like this all over the Muslim Quarter; they were celebrations for those who had journeyed to Mecca
In the Old City, I saw Temple Mount (one of the most important Jewish holy places), the Al-Aqsa Mosque (from whence the prophet Mohammed is said to have risen to heaven), and the Dome of the Rock (iconic symbol of Jerusalem), but only from afar. You cannot access the Al-Aqsa Mosque or the Dome of the Rock unless you are Muslim and you have to pay to enter the Temple Mount.
I did get to see and touch the Wailing Wall which, despite 2000 years of history, is still standing and forms the outer wall of the Temple Mount. The wall has separate sections for men and women but oddly enough, the male section is twice the size of the female section, but with less than half the patrons. Some women were very emotional as they stuffed written prayers in the wall’s crevices…. I wish there was a place like that for me – with just my presence somewhere being enough to make me feel so overcome with emotion.
In the Christian Quarter of the Old City, I made sure to stop in at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, one of two places Jesus is believed to have died, been buried, and resurrected.
I did not, however wait in the ridiculously long line to see the actual spot.
I had just come from the Garden Tomb, the other place where Jesus may have been crucified; I felt that the guide’s evidence was pretty compelling and I had seen enough. Whether I believe Christ was crucified at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre or the Garden Tomb, I still walked the 14 “stations” along the Via Dolorosa (way of grief) starting with where he was condemned and continuing the path where he fell or prayed en route to his death.
Jerusalem is a place that evokes a lot of emotions from people and can even inflict what is referred to as the “Jerusalem Syndrome.” Affecting Muslims, Christians, and Jews alike, people visit Jerusalem and sometimes believe that they are the next prophet or make outrageous claims based on grand ideas or delusions. I myself did not fall victim to the Jerusalem Syndrome or know of anyone who has, but I remember feeling a bit awkward at times. For example, when I was visiting the Garden Tomb, the guide was saying it didn’t matter where Christ died because he is not in either the Garden Tomb or the Church of the Holy Sepulchre; “he has risen.” After he said that (and at other times during the tour), most people would chime in with “Amen!” or “Praise His Name!” Not being religious, it was like I showed up without the script that everyone else had memorized…
The last two things I remember about my brief stay in Jerusalem were the expensive ice cream (~$5/scoop) and Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust memorial. The museum was incredible; it told the story in a beautiful and captivating way and I ended up spending hours in the museum and walking the gardens. I think Yad Vashem was the most meaningful place for me in all of Jerusalem.
From Jerusalem, I took a day trip to Bethlehem. Upon entering Palestinian territory there was a warning sign that Israelis are prohibited from entering – no checkpoint though.
*One of the most famous graphic representations of the Palestinians struggle for freedom
There was not much I wanted to see in Bethlehem except the Church of the Nativity, the site of Christ’s birth.
I pushed and shoved along with all the other people to get into the cave where a star marks the spot of Christ’s birth.
I also visited the Milk Grotto where a drop of Mary’s milk is said to have fallen upon a stone. That place definitely had no significance for me. Anyway, last on the Bethlehem agenda was a café stop to try Palestinian food.
Unfortunately it was nothing exciting, just regular chicken, rice, and yogurt as far as I’m concerned.
The last holy place I visited was Nazareth but I pretty much saw nothing of the city. The bus from Jerusalem arrived as it was growing dark and I left on an 8am bus to Jordan the next morning.
The ambitious traveler in me wanted to wake up at 6am or so to see some of the sights – at least from the outside. But, proof of how tired of traveling I was by then, I elected to sleep that extra hour instead.
Having visited the sites where Jesus was born, lived his life, walked on water, and died, I was ready to hop on a bus to Amman, Jordan.
Up Next: One Day in Amman!
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