We devoted all of Tuesday to Jerusalem, Israel’s most holy city. Jerusalem’s old city is surrounded by a wall, through which there are many gates. Sadly, the gate closest to the Western (or Wailing) Wall, which was our first stop, is called “Dung Gate.” Outside of said Dung Gate, there is a museum and an archaeological dig open to the public, which we visited later in the day.
Friends ask us if we were nervous to be in Israel due to the threat of terrorism and general unsafe-ness. The short answer is that no, we didn’t, either because we actually were safe or because we are stupid. Israel requires all of its citizens, except for the Ultra Orthodox, to serve in the military for three years. Hence, there are people with guns everywhere you turn. In addition, Israeli security is tight. You can hardly enter a building without someone searching your bags and asking for questions about weapons. Not surprisingly, we had to go through a security check to get to the Western Wall:
The Wailing Wall is separated into two sections, one for men and one for women. There are little pieces of paper stuffed into cracks in the wall because Jews believe that prayers there have a higher chance of being answered. When walking away from the wall, Jews walk backwards.
The atmosphere up at the Wailing Wall is very solemn, but on the plaza behind it, life moves along jovially enough. The soldiers, at least, didn’t seem too concerned about anything:
From the Western Wall we walked into the heart of the old city. Jerusalem is made up of narrow streets lined with small shops, and is made crowded by the large groups of tourists.
We walked to the beginning of the famous Via Dolorosa, the Walk of Grief, believed to be the route Jesus carried his cross on his way to be crucified. Historically speaking, there’s not much evidence that the Via Dolorosa is the actual route that Jesus walked, but Christian pilgrims still flock to walk along it. Most of the Christian sites in Jerusalem were designated by the Crusaders whose method of historical analysis seems to have involved mostly wishful thinking. There are nine “Stations of the Cross” along the Via Dolorosa.
The Via Dolorosa begins by Jerusalem’s Lion’s Gate, which leads out to the Mount of Olives. The Church of All Nations stands by what is held to be the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prayed to God on the night he was betrayed.
Tour buses lined the streets in front of the church, and the crowds at Gethsemane were large. I didn’t feel any of the emotions I thought I would experience in such a place because it all felt like a tourist trap. However, of all the places we visited in Jerusalem, Gethsemane is one of the few where the evidence actually points to Jesus having been there. The olive trees in the garden have been dated back to at least 2000 years ago.
We stopped for lunch in the Christian quarter, where we learned that Greek Orthodox Street and Greek Catholic Street are totally different streets, not to be confused with one another. While we waited for the food, we studied our guidebook and re-grouped for the day: tourism is tiring, and that’s alliteration.
Next we walked to the other end of Jerusalem, to the Jaffa Gate, where the Tower of David is located. Like most of the sites in Jerusalem, this one is not original – it seems that pretty much every Jerusalem invader (and, guys, there were a lot of them) destroyed the city and then rebuilt it to their liking.
The old city is surrounded by an old wall, and you can walk along it! They call it “The Ramparts Walk.”
The Ramparts walk was a favorite tourist activity of mine that day. The old city is confusing, kinda dirty, and crowded with religious tour groups. The Ramparts Walk was basically deserted, gave us a good feel for the city, and provided ample opportunity for picture-taking. Yes, please.
Side observation: there is a lot of barbed wire in Jerusalem. It doesn’t feel very holy.
Since we’re not Muslims, we weren’t allowed to visit the Dome of the Rock, but the Ramparts Walk gave us a good view of it.
Our tickets for the Ramparts Walk included two detours, one was down to the old Roman Plaza underneath the Damascus Gate in the Muslim Quarter. Death’s Head tried to work the olive press down there and gained new respect for olive pressers:
The second detour was down to Zedekiah’s cave, purportedly the largest cave in the Middle East. Much of Jerusalem’s famous stone comes from this cave. My guidebook (and you know better than to question my guidebook, I hope), says that Solomon built his Temple with the stones excavated from here:
After a detour through the Muslim Quarter, we arrived back at the Dung Gate, where the entrance to the Jerusalem Archaeological Park and Davidson Center is located. For historian nerds like DH, this kind of thing produces squeals of joy:
Jerusalem is a city of layers upon layers of ruins. The Archaeological Park has relics from many different eras, including this old Byzantine-era house:
Of course, there was so much more to see, but after almost eight hours of straight-up tourism, we wearily made our way back to bus station to catch a bus to Haifa. Like always, we took more pictures than you can count (if you’re a poor counter, that is), which you can see here. I’m so glad that we visited, but honestly, Jerusalem confused, saddened, and, at times, annoyed me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.
