Jerusalem Day 2 Part 2

We drove along the streets of Jerusalem, on our way to the central bus station. It's a small area where a lot of buses cram together to get folks to where they need to go across the country. We arrived and I pointed the Frenchmen into the direction they needed to into for the bus to the airport. I got off on the last stop after all and walked back down to the way I'd gone before.

I walked along to the Old City, entering by Jaffa Gate. There are no gates, you see. It's all stoned entrance and ground and walls, surrounding you. There are very few openings to the sky as you walk along the marketed stone streets in the Old City. It's once you get to the sites by the churches and such that you feel how bright the sun is and feel its warmth on your skin.

I decided Monday not to use a map or to go with a program. I just played it by ear. And it was the best thing I ever did. As I walked along, I remembered little streets and vendors that I had seen before. I remembered where my Aunt's brothers restaurant was, I remembered the little Ethiopian monastery I passed before. I remembered

I went up the same steps I had gone before to see the Ethiopian Monastery. I had seen a lot if before, but I had a feeling I missed some things. So I retraced my steps and found some new things. A path down to a basement, filled with water. It was a black cave, full of slipper slick rock. Water pooled down at the bottom. A guide far down below was telling some people that every church in Jerusalem had one. I don't remember hearing him say exactly why. I walked back up out of the small dark space and up into the light of one part of the church. I went and sat in another part of the church I hadn't been in before. The pulpit part was gated off, but benches lined the outside so that one could sit and pray. One of the monks sat by the gate, watching folks come and go. I sat there for a while in front of the gate and said a prayer. I really saw what was there. Felt what was there. Knew that I was supposed to be there.

The monk wore a long black tunic/coat like thing and a black hat. His black beard was full. His brown cheeks were round. His eyes were shiney and happy. His smile went all the way up to his eyes. It was genuine. Real. For some reason, the monk was moved by my presence. He sat up, paying attention now and said a little prayer with me. He couldn't sit next to me, but he was close. Was still all smiles. Maybe was surprised that a single young woman was coming around and not just taking pictures, but taking the time to really see and feel the places she visited in the holy land. Maybe.

Once I got up to leave, he smiled at me again. Full and peaceful. Made me give him a full smile. When I exited the door, I was surprised. I was next to the entrance of the Sepulchre. I hadn't realized that this was right next to it. I went back into the church that I had gone into before. But I felt like there were still more things I hadn't seen before. When you enter the churches massive doors, the first thing you see immediately in front of you is the stone they washes Jesus on after he was crucified. I looked around and saw that it wasn't as crowded as it had been the time I came before. I went and took more pictures of the stone. This time though, I went down on my knees and placed my hands on it. It was as if the cold stone's life sent shock waves through the rest of me. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer for guidance as I touched the stone. I touched my head and face and felt the need to weep. I let myself cry and really feel what was going on.

I stayed for a long time in the church this time. I really wanted to see all there was to see and really look at what I saw before with more than just my physical eyes. I was glad I did. My interal map lead me to see things I hadnt seen before. To experience as I hadn't before.

I walked about some more once I left the Holy Sepulchre. I walked in a few circles, trying to find an open space where coffee shops and food were. I had been walking for a long time and hadn't eaten since early in the morning AND my aunt ran out of coffee so I had filled up on tea hoping to get a hint of energy. I found a little spot called Geo's espresso cafe where all the men who worked there smiled at me, looking at me so hard they burned holes in my head, hoping I'd spark a conversation. I didn't. :) Would it have gotten me free coffee? Maybe. But a buck for a shot of good expresso isn't a bad deal, so I kept to myself. Besides, any time I looked them straight in the eyes, they'd look away. Every time. All over Palestine, the muslim men do that every time. The only time they hold eye contact is when I pass by in a car. No way of stopping to ask them what the hell they're looking at. In any event, I wasn't really in a talking mood anyway. I was in a watching mood. So I sat with my yummy espresso and people watched for 15mins to get back some energy. German and Russian touristas in bright orange and yellow hats passed me by. I took a moment to write an email, watched some more people walk by and kept it moving.

I hadn't realized before that Canaries line the shops and restaurant walls here in the closed stone walls of the Old City. To ensure natural gas leaks that folks can't smell don't poison them. The bird lives, everyone lives.

My Aunt Maha's brother Mahmoud remembered me from the 1st time I came to his restaurant. He's tall and olive complected. Looks a lot like some of my other uncles. He has name brand wire rimmed glasses over kind brown eyes. Thinning brown hair and a happy smile. He works had at his restaurant. Al Aelat. The food was goof the last time, so I came back, not wanting to buy over priced falafel thats been sitting in the sun. I learned my lesson in Jericho that 2 kinds of falafel will tear you a new one with a 2-day hole in your stomach. Falafel thats been sitting in the sun all day OR falafel that hasn't been cocked all the way through. Wasn't gonna chance it.

The place was semi-quiet or at least more quiet then the first time I went. 4 muslim women dressed very colorfully have coffee in the corner. A European couple with 2 small children speaking Hebrew and polish eat schnitzel and drink coffee. An Australian woman works out a way to buy a good hookah pipe using the resources of one of the cooks she talked to. They sat, smoked cigarettes, talking about argilla and the world.

As I finished the last of my shawarma, I feel sated. Not just on food, but on what I'd done with my time here. Time well spent is always satisfying.

Mahmoud welcomed me anytime and gave me a discount. It was a really nice gesture not because of not charging me full (since it wasn't a very expensive meal) but because it made me feel welcomed as family, even though he was family through the marriage of his sister to my uncle. Once I left, I wasn't sure where else I would walk. I read a bit of my book in the restaurant.

I walked out and just kept on walking. I made it back to Jaffa gate and wondered if I should walk out to see some other things or if I should keep walking through the stoned streets. Jamelah called me and I talked to her for a little while as I watched people pass me by on the corner junction by the gate. The busy sounds, busy smells, busy people move fast. And the fruit and vegetable stands are colorful against the light of the market by Jaffa gate.

I decided to walk back through the other side of the stoned streets that I hadn't remembered walking, closer to the Via Dolorosa once it ends. I walked along looking at the market and the things people sold in them. Scarves, flags, wooden statues, plates, key chains, evil eyes and more. I wanted to get some of the plates, but I couldn't find a shop I found before that I liked. And I dind't want to settle for another shop, when I wanted the shop I found before. I knew I'd find it eventually, even if on another day.

I walked along and went by one of the stations of the Via Dolorso that I hadn't gone into before. These are the ones they say where Jesus fell the first time and then where Jesus saw his mother Mary. There are statues in the places where they believe he fell. A young palestinian man showed me where they were. He wanted me to buy something in the shop, but I had all the crucifixes and post cards I wanted and didn't want a stuffed camel.

I made my way back over by Jaffa Gate and decided to walk around to the other side of the Old city, through the outside to see what was there. I figured I'd bump into something. I was really interested in seeing if I could find the tomb of the Virgin Mary or Mary Magdalene. Those were on the Mt. of Olives and I was determined to find it. By the look of the map, it was around the corner down far on the right. But the map wasnt always right. I figured it wouldn't hurt for me to walk that way anyway, since I hadn't yet.

On my way out, I ran into the french man from the bus that morning.

"Oh hey." I said, as he bought a long oval piece of bread with seasame seeds on them.

"Hi. Salaam. Good to see you again." He replied with a smile.

"You're friend found his way ok on the bus?" I wanted to make sure they hadn't run into any more trouble.

"Yes. Shukran. He made it fine on the bus and should be on his flight now." He came around the bread buyer and we still seemed to be in the way.

"Thats good. I'm glad to hear it. Just gotta be very careful when it comes to these soldiers." I said to him. He smiled and nodded. He knew the drill, but maybe figured became he was a light skin man he would have flown under the radar. But they don't care. They can smell "Palestinian sympathizer" from miles away. "Oh by the way, whats your name?"

"Oh." He laughed, tapped his head and shook it. "Yes of course. It's Michele. What's yours?"

"Eman. Nice to meet you." I reached out to shake his hand. We were still in the way of the people passing by, even though I knew we weren't. I motioned us off to the side by a bunch of bushes close to the steps going up to the street.

"Do you want to go get a drink or something?" He asked suddenly. I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't know this guy and it was already a little after 3pm. The sun sets completely by 5:45pm and I didn't want to miss out on the light and on seeing whatever else I wanted to see.

"Um. Maybe another time. I'm trying to get around the Old City to see Mary's Tomb and whatever else and I want to be on the bus by sunset." I replied with a smile.

"Oh really? Um. Okay. Well, how do you like your trip so far? Are you visiting family?" I still wanted to have conversation, which was fine with me. He was a really nice guy and I like meeting new people. After all I didn't know what kind of drink he wanted so I couldn't knock him for trying to spend some time with a nice young woman who was friendly and had a brain.

"I've been loving it. Its been great. Today I just walked around the Old City again and wanted to try and see the other side before I have to leave next week. Its been amazing though and I've been visiting my family and staying in Ramallah." I replied.

"Oh nice. I've been staying in a hostel in the Old City. It's nice. I was on my way over since we leave tomorrow and are leaving very late in the night to get to the airport." I said motioning to the stoned walls to left. "Are you sure you don't want to get a drink?" He asked again. We were talking anyway and the most I felt like in the moment was water anyway.

"You know what, why not? We're talking anyway. But I just have a little bit of time, so that I can try and see some other things today." I said as we walked up the steps.

"No problem. Let's just go close to here." He said as we walked.

We ended up going right across the street from the Old City to this little place that had a few small store on the bottom and a restaurant on the top. I got water and he got a pepermint tea. See, wasn't that kind of drink. We talked about the politics of the country and what was going on with the Olive Trees. I told him about my family's trees. He told me about some people he tried to help with an organization that helps Palestinians with their trees. He told me of soldiers and settlers who were saying racial slurs to folks from other countries who came to help the Palestinians pick their Olives. We talked about how most of the french didn't like thier new President because he was good friends with Bush. He had been to Palestine about 11 years before and he said it was even harder then to get around.

Michele use to be a Social Worker in france and turned into a farmer. He said he loved the land. He talked about wanting to help Palestinians more, but knowing that sometimes it was a powerless fight. He asked me about religion, about women's rights, and about being american and palestinian. We talked for an hour before I realized what time it was. He bought my water, even though I protested. He said he invited me and it was just water. We exchanged emails. He walked me to the corner and gave me a hug and a kiss on each cheek. I told him to have a safe flight in the morning and to email me soon.


I walked along the outside of the stone walls and passed the Rockefeller museum. I didn't feel compelled to go in, so I kept walking. I also didn't feel compelled to give them 30NIS (about $8). I kept moving down and followed the stone walls until there didn't seem to be anymore. There was a sign that pointed to the Western Wall. It seemed like a bitch of a sketchy entrance so I kept walking around down hill in the same direction, but following traffic. Off in the distance were hills and trees and the tops of churches. This HAD to be the Mt. of Olives. I wasn't sure if it was, but I had a feeling it was. I kept moving down the hill until there was another entrance for the western wall farther down along the hill. I walked up the other hill and made it up by the other entrance there. Before I went into the other gate to see, I saw an old Muslim cemetery and decided to go in a see it. I paid my respects at the entrance, walking in slowly, in case there were some crazy guards here just like by the Dome and Al-Aqsa.

No one was guards were in sight so I walked in. An older white man stood high on one of the tombs, taking pictures of the mountain across the road. Off in the distance, you could see the churches more clearly. One church had gold tops to it, round and then a pointy top. Another had a biblical painting on the front by large steps going down. This was where I needed to visit next! I walked around the cemetery, taking pictures of tombstones and of the view. The man walked down and towards me. He knew very few words in English. At first I wasn't sure if he was speaking Russian or not, but then he said he was Polish. He wanted me to take some pictures of him with the back round of the Mt. of Olives. I did just that and he did the same for me. He spoke to me in Polish, but some how we managed to communicate just fine. He was a very nice man. His name was Strofsky. I was surprised he addressed himself by his last name, but it was fine.
He was really happy with the way I took pictures of him with the back round and all. It was a nice day to meet people.

By the time I was done at the cemetery, it was a little after 5. I went towards the Western Wall, but I saw there was a church and the site where Mary was born. I wanted to visit it, but it was closing. It was getting dark and too late to visit any more for the day. I had seen a lot that day anyway. So I noted where everything was and made my way back over to the bus. It was a long walk back to the station anyway and I preferred to do it with the little bit of light I had.

Besides I need to get rest if I was going to climb the Mt of Olives the next day!