End of Day Three!

After we left The Church of the Holy Sepulcher we went down to the market where I picked out a nativity scene made out of olive tree for a friend of mine. Before I left she and her husband, asked me to pick one up for them. They gave me dimensions and a price they were willing to spend. I was able to stay right near their budget, and went over only $10. That better be ok, or else they are going to have to give me the camel! (Their specifications, for the curious, were: about the height of a G.I. Joe figurine (so not kidding), in a certain price range, made out of olive wood, and a complete nativity, if at all possible. It was.)

I also picked out a smaller carving set for myself. It was simply the Holy Family. I was willing to spend about half of the price of what theirs cost me, but not the whole thing. It just seemed a bit much. Plus, I figured, I can always come back and add to my collection.

While we were here I off-handedly asked Aunt how much of a kick-back she thought George was getting for bringing us to this store. She asked him. Personally, I wouldn't have, but she did anyway. He seemed rather offended that she would assume that she would think that of him. He assured us that he got no kick back, which is why he took us to that store. It does pose an interesting question.

We eventually left the shop and made our way up David's street to David's Citadel. We went by Jaffa's gate where we saw two graves inside the city (this is seriously against Jewish law). Apparently, when the walls were rebuilt the king who had it done had instructed the architects to put Zion's hill inside the city walls. When he came back to Jerusalem to see what they had done he discovered that they had failed to do his command. So, naturally, the king had them killed and buried inside the city as an example to everyone else. I guess if you're going to punish someone severely you might as well do it for eternity.

Then we walked through the Armenian Quarter to King David's tomb. The tomb is controlled by the Jews, so the women went inside one side, and the men went inside another (grabbing a paper kippa that was provided).

From there were went out from Zion's Gate. On the outside of the gate we saw pock-marks from bullets that had been shot at the gate during the wars. It was kind of neat to see that despite all the damage that was done to the walls the shooting was mostly unsuccessful. I mean, did their enemies really believe that they would be able to penetrate the city by shooting stone walls many meters thick?

After passing through Jaffa Gate we went into the "traditional" site of Last Supper. There is another site which both Aunt and George seem of the opinion is really the spot, we plan on visiting it with Uncle, I think. This site, however, had at one point been converted into a Mosque. It seems that that happens a lot. One religion takes over and converts the holy spots into their own. The defacing is horrific to
me, but seems to be quite old hat here. When we asked George why, if he believed that this other site was the actual spot where the Last Supper took place, did he bring us here his answer was simple: "If tour guides take their tour groups to this other spot then people will quit coming here." Well, I'm not seeing the problem (aside from the obvious loss of money to the faiths who maintain the now ignored spot), but apparently it's a big enough issue. IIn fact, George didn't take us to see the other location. I don't know if it was because he couldn't, or because he chose not to.

Leaving this spot of the Last Supper we went back through Zion's Gate and down through the Jewish Quarter to see the Roman Cardo. The Cardo was a market street and was seen as the heart of the city (hence the name). Then we stopped to see the Broad wall (frankly my brain is too fried to remember what this was), then Down (again, quite literally) to the Wailing Wall. Aunt didn't want to go touch it (not that she wanted to not touch it, but it didn't seem important to her to touch it), but I did. That was the only spot that I really wanted to make a physical connection. As we approached the Wall an old woman approached us holding strands of red yarn. It was apparent that she wanted us to purchase strands from her, but I am not sure why? When we got up to the Wall I could see a million little pieces of paper that had been crumpled up and shoved in the cracks in the rock. Some of those papers look like they have been there for years, others were freshly inserted. I saw one mother lift her child up so that she could shove a note into a crack. When I finished we slowly walked backwards from the Wall until we reached a designated point where we could turn around. I'm not really sure why we couldn't turn our backs. Clearly, it was a sign of respect, but to whom am I giving my respect?

From the Wailing Wall we caught a cab to Garden Tomb (the walk would have taken us an hour). Some people believe that this is the actual spot of the Crucifixion and burial. George, however, doesn't believe it. Rather, he thinks that The Church of the Holy Sepulcher is. The Garden Tomb is very quiet and peaceful — quite a contrast to the rest of the city. President Kimball once expressed his opinion that this was the actual site of the burial. I really don't know. I do know, however, that I felt peace while I was there. They certainly have done an excellent job keeping up the grounds and creating the desired ambiance. My roommate asked me to pick up a pebble from some place (I have forgotten where), and while I sat there I remembered her request. I figured of all places this would be a spot where she might want a stone, so I scooped one up for her.

Following the Garden Tomb we walked back up to Village Green for dessert and then caught a cab and went home. We got there around 4:30. Can you believe we did all of that in one day? Me neither.

The Triumphal Entry

Directly across the street from the Garden of Gethsemane was Mary's tomb. We didn't go in because George said there was nothing to see in there, and that it was pretty dark and dank.

We continued down the mountain then stopped in the Kidron Valley to talk about the different paths historically taken for the parade of Triumphal Entry. Up to this point we had pretty much stuck to the path that was always taken. The point where we stopped was the point where different paths were taken. At one point in history the path went North around the entire city before heading West into it. Now (and most likely the original path) the path is pretty much South-East.

After this aside we walked up through the Lion's Gate, where we started walking the Stations of the Cross. (We walked through the first nine, then stopped to eat hummus at this really great place. It was so good! Honestly, this was probably the best hummus I have ever eaten.) As we walked the stations we hurried passed a Catholic group who had been stopping and reading scriptures and praying at every station. At one of the stations George mentioned Veronica. Aunt was unfamiliar with who Veronica was, so it was kind of fun to say, "Oh, that's in the Apocrypha." Especially since she is such an amazing scholar of so many subjects, only one of which is the Bible.

From there we continued walking up hill (I was honestly shocked to discover how hilly Israel is. Uncle commented a couple of times on the Lord's promise to give the Jews a land of hills and valleys. He wasn't kidding, either.) and into an Ethiopian/Coptic church. The church was originally Coptic, but was given to the Ethiopians at some point in history. George stopped us inside the church to point out a Coptic cross. As we were talking about it the Ethiopian priest that was standing near by came and interrupted him and said, No, that's an Ethiopian cross. Hmmm..... It was quite interesting to see how determined he was to make sure that we knew that the church was, and always had been Ethiopian.

We walked out of the church and into the Church of Holy Sepulcher for last 5 stations of the cross. I asked George when the last 3 were added. He said that they were added by the crusaders. Okaaay. It was interesting to me that he wasn't even going to mention that. Oh well. Inside this church there were a bunch of different religions who laid claim to parts of it. George estimates there are about 15 different sects inside. We started at the location where Christ was supposedly crucified, then down to the unction (?) stone where they would have laid out and dressed Christ's body for burial. Then we went down to a spot under the church where George pointed out that the priests had been excavating and found more evidence that seems to support that this point is the spot where Christ was crucified and buried.

After we came up we went into the Holy Sepulcher. It was pretty dark and ostentatious. Interestingly, these spots were all disconnected originally until the crusaders decided to join them together. Also, Catholics (I think, I'm not really sure which religion) that this spot is the center of the earth. Interesting and completely unsupported. But, we're all allowed to believe as we think is Truth. I took this picture as I stood in line waiting to go into the Holy Sepulcher. These objects hold incense which is constantly burning. The Sepulcher is in the center of the circle created by the dome.

This is the out side of the Holy Sepulcher. Inside is really a tight squeeze. Once again, I didn't really feel the Spirit all that much. It might have had something to do with the feeling created by all of these churches. Or, it may have been something else entirely.

Gethsemane

Of all the places we visited this spot should have been the place where I felt the greatest influence of the Spirit. However, it seemed so sterile and guarded to me that I had a really hard time connecting the suffering of the Lord to the spot we stood. The church here is called The Church of all Nations. It overlooks Jerusalem, which is interesting because the pulpit actually faces the East, so the Parishioners would face the West — contrary to the usual tradition of having it face the East (this was actually news to me, I had no idea that tradition holds that parishioners look West). The reason for this, George told us, is that Christ overlooked Jerusalem, so the people should as well.

This is the oldest tree in the Garden of Gethsemane. Tradition holds that it dates back to the time of Christ. As you can see, there is a fence around it. There is actually a fence around the entirety of the Garden, which served greatly to influence my detachment from it. The fence is especially high here to prevent people from breaking off pieces of the tree to take home as relics. I think it is so tragic that we have to physically prevent people from taking things home with them. But, then, I can see why the desire exists.

Dominus Flevit

As we made our way down the Mount of Olives we stopped at many Churches — that's one thing I really learned here, there is a church for everything. The first church we stopped at was Dominus Flevit (Tear of the Lord). This church was built at the spot where Christ is said to have first looked of Jerusalem and wept because of the wickedness of the people. George quoted Matthew 23:37: "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!"

As I walked around the grounds of this church I couldn't help but notice that many of the plants were the same kind of plant, and not something that I've seen around here much. I think stood out to me so much because my father had a few when I was growing up, and the name was so silly that I was certain that it couldn't be the real name. However, as I walked those grounds and saw so many of those plants I became increasingly more convinced that the name my father had told me all those years ago is the name it is commonly known as: Hen and Chick. Surely this wasn't an accident. (For the record, both of these pictures are from the internet, I didn't get any of my own here.)

I didn't point this out to either Aunt, nor George (nor, for that matter, did he point it out to us. Honestly, I'm not sure he's aware of the significance.), but it was an interesting insight for me. Additionally, there was a picture on the altar of a hen with chicks under her wings. I'm not sure how I would feel about going to a church where that seems to be the main theme, but on the other hand, it is a really good warning and call to each of us.

102,825

That's (roughly) how many steps I took today. Which, given my very lengthy stride of 18 inches means I walked 1,850,850 inches which breaks down nicely as follows:
154,237.5 feet = 51,412.5 yards = 29.21 miles (or, if you prefer kilometers: 47.01 km).

Wow. That's a lot of walking. Since we did that all in 8 and 1/2 hours we were walking (on average) 3 1/2 miles per hour. Constantly. Sheesh! The truly strange thing is, it certainly didn't feel like we did all that walking, and I am not overly tired from said event.

We started off the morning at 8am. Uncle had to do some office work, so it was just Aunt, George, and me. We started out the day by meeting George at the Seven Arches Hotel on the top of the Mount of Olives. We stood at an overlook point that looks down on Jerusalem. From here we saw a plethora of graves. It was quite interesting — The nearest graves were Jewish graves, then down in the Kidron Valley were Christian graves, and finally, on the other side of the valley were Muslim graves. The Muslim graveyard was in front of the Gold Doors that the Jewish Messiah is supposed to enter through. The doors are sealed off, presumably, to prevent this and the graveyard is placed in front to further prevent it — because the Messiah, being a rabbi, could not walk through a Muslim graveyard without being defiled. That is information from Uncle, George said nothing about it. You might notice in the picture that it is quite windy. It was also a bit chilly. We have been enjoying quite warm weather. Getting back to Utah will be quite the shock to my system!

Here's a bit of a diagram of what I was talking about in the above picture. Ohhh... check me out, I can type on a picture! Yes, I know it's ugly.

As we walked past the Jewish graves George pointed out that there were stones on the graves. Why? He asked. Simple, according to Jewish tradition the body is buried the same day the person dies (I happened to know that information, he didn't mention
it), so not everyone is able to attend. However, when someone gets to the grave they put a stone on it to say, "I was here, and I took part of your funeral in spirit." It's kind of a neat idea. It is interesting to note, here, that this practice causes interesting issues for members of the Church whose family is Jewish. Given the rapid turn around, and the desire to not offend the family members the grave site sometimes has to be dedicated after the burial when the family has left.

Just to give you some perspective on the amount of walking we actually did, we started the day in the upper left hand corner of this picture, and ended further away than where I took this picture. However, the view is great, so it will have to serve as a good visual. Also, the path we took down the Mount of Olives wound to the left, and out of view. Yes, I should have thought of that when I was taking the picture.

End of Day Two!

We ate dinner in Nazareth before heading back home. Not surprisingly, dinner ended up being shwarma.

We drove home past Jaffa, but it was too dark to stop and see anything. The route we took was parallel to the Mediterranean Sea. Because George was talking to Aunt and me in the back seat Uncle missed his off ramp and we got lost in Petah Tiqwe. Instead of pulling into a gas station to ask for help George simply rolled down his window and hollered at people in cars at stop signs. It actually worked! After asking 3 people we finally made it out of there alive. :)

I fell into bed, exhausted, but happy. What a great day it was.

Nazareth

Then we went to Nazareth where George showed us two churches of the Annunciation. It is interesting to see the discrepancies that exists even among Christians. The first one we saw was a Greek Orthodox church. It is actually built over the well where Mary would have gone to gather water for her household. There were many people there gathering the water from the spring in water bottles. George said there is no way you'd want to drink it, but the pilgrims take it home with them as a holy relic.



After that we went up (again, literally) to the modern Church of the Annunciation. Since there is no way of knowing for sure where it happened both religions lay claim to their sites. This Church of the Annunciation was very plain on the inside bottom level, but the top level (where I assume mass would be held) there were pictures donated by many countries depicting Mary. I saw another Charles Madden sculpture. It was really neat to be able to identify an artist here. This was one of my favorite (visually) sites. All of the artwork was really interesting, and it was fascinating to see that each country depicted Mary as looking like she was from their country. A bit ego-centric, but Americans certainly aren't exempt from that silliness either.

In alphabetical order here are a few pictures that we took of the mosaics of Mary found out side the Catholic Church of the Annunciation.
China
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Honduras
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Nazareth (this is my favorite depiction, ever. Someday, when I have time and I've finished updating this blog, I'm going to turn her into a cross-stitch pattern and sew it. It will be stunning, in my not so humble opinion.)











Thailand
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Vietnam
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First Miracle

After Capurnum we went to Canna or Cava (which is it's true name). Here we went to a Church where they celebrate the first miracle of Christ. It is down this long street filled with homes. The church itself is behind some metal doors — very much they way things are done here — inside the doors is a fairly tall but rather small church. It was build in 1999 over the top of a previous church which was built on top of a previous church. That's also the way things are done here. If the ruins don't have great archaeological/historical importance (and sometimes even if they do) they are built over, and the remains of the previous building are used in the new one. (The very front bit (the balcony downward) is part of a really old church) Here we actually went under the church to see some excavation that was done. In the excavation we saw a wine vat which was huge. It was made out of stone and George explained that it would have been kept in the cellar and then the wine would be scooped out and put in smaller containers. Here people had written notes and left them under the vat. I asked why and it was explained that as a relic people would feel their prayers would be shuttled more quickly to God. We came up from under the church and walked around a pit in the floor on a platform. I looked in and saw that people had tossed coins and bills into the excavation hole. I laughed — 500 years from now when archaeologists are digging this out they are going to be so confused as to the dating of the buildings based solely on the coins found there. It kind of makes me wonder if we don't have that issue now.

Tabga and Capurnum

From the Mount of the Beatitudes we went down the mountain to the spot where Christ performed the miracle of the loaves and the fishes (it is called Tabga, or Seven Springs.) In front of this was a baptismal font. The font was a cylinder with a cross cut out of the middle. I asked how baptisms were done, and George explained that the person being baptized would climb inside and the Priest would stand on the outside of the font and after saying the appropriate prayers would push your head under — full immersion. This church was really plain inside, too. Interestingly, there was a mosaic on the floor depicting 2 fishes and 4 loaves. George asked where the fifth loaf was. I said, Someone ate it? He said, sort of. It would be in the priest's hand during communion. Also on the floor was a mosaic of some flora and fauna from Egypt, and a Nile-ometer, which, when we asked George explained was how people in Egypt were taxed — when the Nile was higher, the taxes were higher. I asked what Egyptian artwork was doing in Israel. Good question! He exclaimed. The artist was an Egyptian who had converted to Christianity and had come up to do the art work there. Pictures of that mosaic would have been impossible to get, due to being roped off, and my towering height! Unfortunately.

We left there and made our way down to Capurnum. There was a sculpture out front done by Charles Madden — a famous American artist. I was quite surprised, but it was interesting. The sculpture depicted Peter with the keys (which were shown as literal keys) and some fishes at his feet. This place housed yet another church which was build over the top of Peter's house.

Archaeologist think it's quite possibly the right place for that. The interesting thing was, it is build over the top of that house, as in: the building is built on stilts and has a glass floor so you can look down into it. If you look closely in the picture above you can see the top of the church above George's head.

There is a synagogue right next to the house (well, ruins, actually) which was neat to see. Here are Aunt and I standing in the middle of the ruins. We're probably standing in the men's section. Oh well!

Out in front of the church (well, actually, just to the right of St. Peter if you're facing him) is this stone. George claims that archaeologists believe that it may be a depiction of the Arc of the Covenant. George believes that it is. None of the rest of us really bought that idea. After all, what is the Arc doing on wheels? George's answer was completely unsatisfactory. So unsatisfactory, actually, that I can't remember what it was.

Mount of Beatitudes

After the West Bank we drove to Galilee, past the Dead Sea. I would have loved to stop, but we were trying to get a ton done in one day, so we didn't. As we drove George pointed out an electric fence that divides Jordan from Israel. It has a dirt road on the Israel side of the fence, then the fence, followed by some space, or a DMZ, and then another electric fence and another road. The roads on either side of
the fenced off DMZ are patrolled by police and military. Needless to say, if either patrol catches anyone near the fence there really isn't time for explanations of what they're doing there. It is so sad and tragic to me that such a horrifying place exists.

These are some pictures I took of the Dead Sea as we drove past:
This one you can actually see the water, which is nice, but the other one...

The rays breaking through the clouds here are amazing! When we were much younger my sister would refer to those as a "God Thing" when she couldn't remember the name. That has always stuck with me, and here I think it's more apropos than normal.

We also didn't stop at Galilee. George jokingly suggested that we stop and swim. Uncle said that we had forgot to bring our swim suits to which George replied that we could just swim in our underwear. Yeah, right! However, we were planning on stopping in Galilee and eating at a fish place. Tragically, we decided not to, in the interest of time.

We drove up to the Church of the Beatitudes in Tiberious. George explained that the church we were at wasn't the location of the real sermon on the mount, but that the church had moved it up higher on the mountain to be away from the hustle and bustle of the city. We arrived there five minutes after they closed for lunch. George got out of the car and "talked" to the guard, "asking" him to let us through anyway. Aunt and Uncle didn't see what was going on, so I explained, "I think he's bribing the guard." When George got back in they asked him if he had. He said, no, he was just talking to him. Aunt asked what he had said, and George told her, "I told him, 'I know your sister.'" I laughed! He wasn't going to tell her — that's just the way life is, you bribe your way through, and don't let the tourists know what's going on.

The Church of the Beatitudes was beautiful. A sign said pictures were permitted, so I took a two inside. I was really simple inside, the building was round, with a copper dome on top. When we walked in, the dome had the beatitudes written in Latin in stained glass at the base of the dome, and an altar in the middle with a smattering of benches around the edges for people to pause and pray. I felt a little bad taking pictures, given everything that I was taught about other peoples' churches, and museums, but the signs said it was ok. However, I opted to not use my flash.

This is the altar inside. That was pretty much the whole thing. If you look at the top of the picture you can see the bottom of some of the Beatitudes.










Uncle took this picture on the out side of the Church. The view of the Sea of Galilee is quite striking, and you can see how well the grounds are kept. I can see why the building was moved, and, frankly, it's not really vital that the church is in the traditional spot, what is most important is the feeling that one gets while visiting the church.

West Bank

We started out the morning by heading down (literally) to Jericho. On the way we got stopped at a check point. This wasn't at all surprising, since we were crossing into the West Bank. We had a tour guide with us, named George who used to work at the Center (which is how Aunt and Uncle know him). He is a Palestinian Christian (he's actually Greek orthodox). At the check point the guards asked for all of our passports. By virtue of being Palestinian, George is forbidden to have citizenship in Israel, even though he was born there. As a result, he cannot have a passport. When he travels to any foreign country he has to take his "documents," which include a government ID, which seems good enough. Then they asked if we were family. At that moment it dawned on me that they all have the same last name, since Uncle is my father's brother. It certainly made things easier to just say "yes," and not have to worry about explaining our relationship. George said to them that he was our guide, and the guard asked him his religion. Apparently, you can't go into the West Bank if you are a Jew. George told him that, no, he is a Christian -- and the guard should be able to tell by looking at the picture. The guard laughed and sent us through. It was really quite interesting to see these young men and women who were serving their country were just as worried about violence as we were, and were quite relieved when the people in the car were not terrorists.

In Jericho we drove around a little bit, then stopped at the Sycamore tree where Zacchaeus watched Christ come down the street and leapt down inviting Christ to stay with him (Luke 19:1-6). Before we got out of the car to take our lovely pictures George explained that if anyone asked us to buy anything we were to say their stuff was nice, but no and keep on walking. Apparently many of the peddlers are also pick-pocketers. No worries. I figured as much anyway. Here's a picture of George, Aunt, and me in front of the Sycamore tree in question.

After hanging out with the Sycamore tree we drove past the Mount of Temptation. This is the mountain, if you look in the middle of the picture you can see a monastery.

As we drove past The Mount of Temptation heading somewhere George explained that we may not be able to get through, "we'll see if the road is closed or not, hopefully, it is not." Uncle was driving when suddenly George announced, "Stop, sir! You have to go back! You can't go here." We all looked around as Uncle threw the car in reverse and backed-up as quickly as possible. Someone asked George what was going on, he said, "Do you see those tires in the road? Those tires mean you can't go there." That was the whole blockade — two tires on one half of the road. As we turned around to leave a soldier came out from behind a wall, looked at us, and waved back to George. How can that possibly be a road block? I'm not sure, but it clearly was. George lead us back to a hotel where he had many friends. We stopped in and walked around for a bit before heading out. That "road block" is one of the pictures I really regret not getting. It was so interesting to see, and quite serious.

From there we had to go back through the original check point, even though there was a shorter way. However, as a safety precaution we left the West Bank as quickly as possible. On the way through the check point the guard that had let us through was on the other side and just waved us on.

Evenings End

After Yad Vashem we went to run another errand, and then went grocery shopping at a health food store. Can you believe it! Aunt found one here, too! Then we stopped and grabbed a bite to eat at this store front. We had pitas with lamb (I think). They were pretty good. This is actually called shawarma. In time I grew to think of it as "Israeli fast-food." It seems to be the food you grab in a pinch. Naturally, it is always Kosher.

After dinner we returned to the Center to prepare for the first of three concerts I would attend while in Jerusalem. Honestly, I was so tired (probably more than a little jet-lagged) that though I wanted to stay awake I found myself dozing in the middle.

The concert was a violin/piano duet. Two of Israel's top musicians, who have been performing together for 20 years now. They were amazing, as you can well imagine! I wish that I hadn't slept, but I suppose there is nothing I could have done. During the middle of the concert one of the horse hairs on the violinist's bow broke. It was quite distracting, but I was so impressed with how he played as if he hadn't noticed. Naturally as soon as the movement ended he pulled it out.

Next Sunday will be a string quartet. I'm very much looking forward to that.

A Name and A Place - Yad Vashem

After lunch we went to a Holocaust Memorial called Yad Vashem. That was amazing. At the very end of the "tour" (it's very much self-guided, but there is an order to it) there is a room called the Hall of Names. In the room they have book after book after book on shelf after shelf after shelf filled with names of Holocaust victims. It is tragically beautiful. The books and shelves are black. A few things struck me there. (1) The shelves weren't full — as if they were expecting to add more; and (2) The room is cylinder in shape, and in the middle there is a well extending into the bedrock. The sides are rock, and at the bottom is some amount water. I don't know how full it is, but to me it seemed to represent the tears of those who suffered in and for the Holocaust. There was no explanation, so this is just what I felt, and what it means to me. I would have loved to have a picture of it, but they don't allow photographs inside.

The museum was built to convey a feeling of being forced and corralled, and it's quite effective. The walls are hugely tall and solid concrete. They slope in, giving the visitor a feeling of entrapment. They are so high you feel you can't get out, no matter what you do. The tour is set up so that one zig-zags across a main corridor, that you can't walk down because it is roped off. Interestingly, though there is a lot of space there are more people than there is space, so the feeling of claustrophobia is quite real. At times the press of people forces you to move forward, even if you want to pause. I wept internally as I walked through the space, and my heart aches still as I recount this.

Errands and David's Citadel

Today was a good day. We started off the morning by running errands. I never thought I'd be saying that I ran "errands" in Jerusalem. We went to Aladdin's (pronounced: Al-a-dean's) to exchange money. I wrote a check, and they didn't even ask for identification! Can you believe that? Aunt says they like Mormons and you never have to show id if they know you are Mormon. From there we went to the Citadel of David Museum. After a whirlwind 4000 years of Jerusalem history in 2 hours (and loads of stairs) we went to lunch at this Vegetarian restaurant Aunt had found on the Internet before they even left Provo. One thing that is interesting, and potentially glaringly obvious (I'll explain why it's only potentially in a second) is there is a guard at the entrance of almost every site/shop. (I almost said every place, but the millions of little shops don't have someone there -- just the shop keeper bidding you entrance and assuring you that "everything is cheap today") These guards want you to open your purse or bag so they can look inside and check for weapons, etc. In a way I guess it makes me feel safer, at least I have a titch more assurance that someone doesn't have a bomb or something. Now, why is it almost glaringly obvious? Well, at the places they know Uncle and Aunt we were waved through -- they didn't even pause us. Additionally, at places they didn't know us we were still waved through. I guess they figure that Americans aren't going to be causing trouble, and since Aunt is so Scandinavian looking, and with my red hair, well, I guess we just don't look the part of a suicide bomber.

The Citadel of David is really unique, considering that David was never actually there. Here are three pictures taken from the top of the Citadel. The guide claimed that this was the highest spot in the Old City of Jerusalem. Judging from my pictures, she's not kidding. This picture is the view over-looking the Dome of the Rock in the foreground to the left and The Mt. Of Olives in the back.

This is exactly 180 degrees from the previous picture. As you can see, we were standing on the roof the Citadel. The next picture was taken on the far side of the fenced area and looking down.

If you look down to the center of the picture you can see a lone arch, archeologist believe that there was actually a row of arches, like those in the back ground, but time has taken its toll. In front and back of the arch you can see little bridges, these are actually for a small trolley-esque train that runs through when there are excavators working. Most of the area is under constant excavation, which is fascinating, but I wonder how I would feel if archaeologists decided that my home town was a rich source of history and started digging and never stopped.

Sabbath

In Jerusalem the Mormons observe Sabbath on, well, the Sabbath — Saturday. It was quite weird for me, at first, thinking of the things we would be doing the next day, Sunday, and including errands and eating out among them.

Conservativism Meets Nose Ring

Dinner that first night was good. It was actually wonderful to have a home-cooked meal that I didn't have to prepare myself!

After dinner we went over to their neighbors' apartment for cake and ice cream. My Aunt and I were sitting on the couch talking when she looked over at me, and touching my nose asked, "Why did you do this?"

"'Cause I'm a horrible person."

"No, you're not." She then proceeded to tell me a truely quaint story about a girl who used to work at The Center (this is what we called the Mormon University, aka the Jerusalem Center aka "The Center") who had a diamond embeded in her tooth. Funny. I was sure she was going to react a bit more strongly than a simple shrug. Did you hear that Mumsy? She doens't care, and neither should you!

Flight

I left Provo at 6:30 Friday morning headed for Tel Aviv. After 2 1/2 hours I landed in Minneapolis with a 45 minute layover. I dinked around and lost track of time. After a bit I decided I should wait at my gate. I headed over there, and saw the desk clerk I had checked in with standing near the door. I had almost missed my flight! "Sorry!" I exclaimed as I ran past him. "I wouldn't be sorry. We would have put you on the next flight." 2 1/2 more hours and I ended up in Newark where I had a 5 hour layover there. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Instead I bought 2 magazines and set about devouring them. After that, it would be a short 10 1/2 hours before I would be landing in Tel Aviv, Israel.

I talked to Mumsy while I waited for my flight. "Are you excited!?" She demanded. "I'm so excited for you I hardly got any sleep last night!" (She speaks in exclamation marks, trust me.)

After we got all situated on the plane (a 777, in case you care) and took off it was meal time. As the flight attendants went around I silently kicked myself for not requesting a special meal. But, I reasoned, this was a flight to Israel. Surely there would be Kosher meals to be had. Sure enough, there were. I could have chicken or lasagnea. Um... no, actually I couldn't. I apologized to the flight attendant and asked if they had any vegetarian meals. She was fresh out, but we could take everything off the tray that I couldn't eat. Deal. After we did that I was left with — literally — a brownie. Even the salad had fish in it. She said when they were finished serving everyone else she would see if she could find some fruit in first class. I thanked her. Drinks came around and I asked for tomato juice. She left me with the whole can — perhaps that could hold me for a while. When she realized that she wouldn't be able to get to first class for a bit she came by and handed me some fruit bars and pretzels. On her way back through picking up drinks, etc. She offered me another drink. Bless her heart! I was starving! Finally I had enough to sleep on, and I was ready to hit the hay. After I feel asleep I felt a hand gently shaking me, it was the stewardess. She had raided first class and prepared a plate with grapes, crackers, and cheese. I inhaled everything but the cheese. So grateful. I thanked her profusely, to which she responded, "I'm from Denver, Colorado. I know how it goes, nothing with a face." I didn't want to explain, so I let that be.

Then I tried to sleep. The one baby on the plane happened to be in my section. It also happened to cry all night long. The poor mother. Every time the baby would wake me up I would look over and see her patting it comfortingly while whispering "shh" into its ear. That still didn't help me sleep. Finally the lightbulb over my head turned on — I plugged in my ear phones and turned up the hold music. I've never been so grateful for elevator music in my life.

Breakfast was much better — I had curry. Never mind. At least it wasn't eggs.

When I finally touched down in Tel Aviv and headed out, I was really surprised to discover that my venture through immigration was simply, "Why are you here?" and "Where are you staying?" Wow. I had a tougher time going to Canada!

My Aunt and Uncle picked me up at the air port and drove me back to their place — the Mormon University. For those of you in the "know" the real name is "Brigham Young University Jerusalem Centre for Near Eastern Studies". Now you know why everyone calls it the Mormon University!

Departure!

I'm leaving on Friday morning for Israel for 10 days. I'm so excited I could wet myself! However, I shall contain that emotion, as well as all the other emotions broiling up inside. I just wanted to let you all know that I shall be gone. I'm going to do my best to post not only text, but pictures as well. Hopefully all goes well and I am able to do just that.

Wish me luck. Oh, and if I die, just send the flowers to Mumsy.