Israel Trip, Last Part

One last post for you on my journey. First, the Sabbath (Shabbos). I have one photo taken right before I lit candles, grabbed a prayer book, and headed out to the Old City, destination: the Western Wall (Kotel) for evening services welcoming Shabbos.

This was the view from the apartment's terrace as traffic came to a relative halt in Jerusalem on the Jewish Sabbath. I write it that way because Israelis, depending upon their religion, may celebrate one of 3 Sabbaths: Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Sabbath is serious stuff in the Holy Land. I write "relative halt" because non-Jewish tour buses and taxi cabs continued to come to the Old City's walls as I walked: I saw Maronite and Eastern Orthodox tourists, who walked to the Jaffa Gate with me.
As I approached the Jewish Quarter the mood changed. In the Armenian Quarter, business was as usual. Men played backgammon outside their stalls, vendors hawked food and souvenirs, tourists took photos of everything. But in the Jewish Quarter, everyone, everyone was rushing towards the same place. At the Kotel Plaza I saw throngs of people awaiting the time to welcome the Sabbath Queen (that's how we refer to the start of Shabbos). There were uniformed soldiers on leave for Shabbos, waving the national flag across the plaza as they walked to their respective sides of the Kotel. I found a jolly group of American students beginning their prayers next to the divider, their male leader standing on a chair on the men's side so he could direct everyone. That was perhaps the most inspiring welcoming of the Shabbos Queen I ever experienced. There's a prayer where we welcome the Queen and stand up, turning around as if a Queen truly did enter: we beckon to her as we turn to the front again. Singing this hymn at the holiest place was, well, mind-bending and beautiful and awe-inspiring all rolled into one. When the service ended, women and girls joined arms and started singing and dancing to songs I knew very well: David, King of Israel, and most poignantly, Jerusalem of Gold.

The next day I went to the Hurva Synagogue, that very pretty domed one I showed you. As lovely inside as outside. On the way, just outside the Jaffa Gate, a man was handing out leaflets explaining the week's Torah reading. I took one and he immediately asked me if I had a place to eat Shabbos lunch. That's a typical Israeli thing, to find someone to bring home for Shabbos lunch. Me, I tried to bring my friends' daughter, who goes to school in the Old City near the Hurva, home to my brother's for lunch. Alas! she was required to return to school for lunch (they had a guest lecturer that week).

After Shabbos ends, Israel comes back to life- night life. My father wanted his usual early bed time, my brother wanted me to experience Israel, so David and I headed to Ben Yehuda Street, a pedestrian mall about a mile from the apartment. As if we needed more food, we stopped in Cafe Rimon for a light meal. I had onion soup (OK, not great), David had fettucine Alfredo (he said it was good), then I had to try the caramel blintzes with vanilla ice cream. Amazing. Good thing I was doing a lot of walking in Israel.

If I sound a little food obsessed, it's because no one told me Israel had such amazing food. I've been to Italy and France, and Israel can compete with both of those countries!! Check out the shuk I visited on Sunday, the Machne Yehuda:

Oy vey! I had to limit myself as I ate my way through the shuk!

Who knew so many types of olive existed?

After eating through the shuk, I really needed to do some walking in the Old City- and check out some places I was curious about. Like the Burnt House of Kathros. My brother, who lives in Jerusalem part of the time, had no idea what Burnt House was. I had to find out.

So the Burnt House was burnt by the Romans 1 month after the destruction of the second Temple in 70 CE (original name, right?). The Kathros family was of the high priest caste (hey, just like DH!). The cellar survived the conflagration and many artifacts abounded, in part because high priests used a lot of stone vessels in place of pottery.

That's me photographing some of the vessels that survived. There was a sword, believed to have been used in the defense of the house, and the skeleton of a young lady (maybe 20 years old) buried in the stones.

Spooky place.
I spent a while at Burnt House, then wandered until dinnertime.

Monday was my last day, a sad day yet a healing day. First we went to Bet Shemesh, west of Jerusalem, to unveil my mother's monument. The scenery around the cemetery is very striking, a lot like that near Los Angeles. It's a fitting final home for Mom.

Relatives I'd never met before attended the ceremony from as far away as Kiryat Shemona near the Syrian border (a 3 1/2 hour drive each way) to extend their condolences. DH's cousins who live nearby came also; it felt comforting to see people I knew.

Afterward, I spent the remainder of the day bidding l'hitraot (see you again soon) to the Old City I've come to love so well on such a brief acquaintance.

I explored her nooks and crannies, finding the 8th century CE Karaite Synagogue.

Karaites number only about 40,000 or so; they are Jews who observe Jewish law from the Torah and not from later commentaries on it like the Talmud. This is their sole synagogue (I think) in Israel; they have one in Turkey and 1 in the US and I'm not sure where else they have synagogues. Karaites are believed to have best preserved the writing of the Torah in a form known as the Aleppo codex. To explain this, first let me tell you that a Torah scroll has no vowel marks nor punctuation marks; people reading it memorize the starts and stops, etc. The Aleppo codex (so-called because it was kept in the synagogue in Aleppo, Syria) preserved the Torah in chapter and verse format with vowels and commentaries in margins. I saw the Aleppo codex at the Israel Museum, so the synagogue to me was a link to my historic past.

One of the things Jews do to honor their deceased loved ones, especially parents, is to donate to charity (tzedekah) and to write a Torah scroll in the deceased one's honor. Writing a Torah scroll is an expensive proposition ($10,000 - 20,000), so contributing to the writing of one counts just as much. Part of my plan in the Old City was to give tzedekah and find someone writing a Torah to whom I could give money. In fact, I felt driven to complete these 2 tasks before I left Israel. The person writing the Torah found me here:

This is outside the Chabad of the Cardo, and they truly were soliciting funds for writing a Torah. When they heard my story, they said G-d sent me. They asked me to write down the names of my entire family, so they could pray for blessings upon us. There's another reason to show you this photo: it's a typical Jerusalem scene. You can see the 2 Arab ladies walking by the entrance to Chabad, the Lubavitcher Chasidic man standing outside the entrance, and different folk walking around the plaza. No one stares at anyone, points fingers, or makes anyone feel awkward.

I had shwarma in the Old City for dinner, then needed something to cleanse my palate (the shwarma was great; the spices linger a bit). I found a candy shop (mints, gum, something sweet) with a bonus:

A view down to Roman-era excavations below. Not your everyday sweetshop.

As for the tzdekah, I knew there was a fellow in a wheelchair stationed by Jaffa Gate asking for alms. The previous time I passed him I had no cash. Today I made sure I had cash to give him (in fact, I wound up giving away all my Israeli money instead of changing any back into US currency). Giving away felt as if I had gained something.

I began this post with views of near-sunset, now I'll end it with views of dusk before I headed to Ben Gurion Airport. First, the Montefiore windmill (1857) and Mt. Scopus beyond as seen from outside Jaffa Gate:


Last, evening falling over the Old City.


I'll be back soon, I promise, with DH along. We have new places to explore.

Israel Trip, Part 3

Masada.
The very name strikes fierce pride and love of liberty.
If you don't know, during the revolt against the Romans ca. 66 CE, Jews fled to this desert stronghold in the Judaean hills overlooking the Dead Sea. Some 30 years earlier, Herod had built himself a winter palace replete with cisterns to catch rainwater, filled store rooms, hot and cold baths, and more. Standing some 100 meters above the plain, Masada (meaning fortress in Hebrew) was meant to be unassailable (Herod, you may recall, was more than a little paranoid). In 72 CE, General Flavius Silva finally breached Masada's impregnable slopes- to find that the Jewish defenders had committed suicide rather than become slaves. So accounted to us by Josephus in his History of the Jewish Wars and verified by modern archaeology.
In the summer of 1968, my cousin hiked up the slopes of Masada before dawn. We have it easy in 2011: we take the cable car up.

Those 2 big rectangles you see in the ground? That's where the Romans camped during the siege.

This is the view Herod had from his private chambers.
Herod built many baths; the Jews turned some of them into ritualaria (mikvaot).


Much of the palace floor was mosaic like this, however much was removed to museums overseas.

This was a store room. Note the old vessel still standing.

Here is an area believed to be the oldest synagogue. Before the Romans destroyed the Temple in 67 CE, that was the main place of Jewish worship.

These boulders were launched from catapults by the Romans.

We left Masada and drove to the Dead Sea for lunch and a dip near Ein Gedi, where David hid from Saul's troops.

To be accurate, David dipped his feet in the Dead Sea while the guide and I sat and watched people bobbing about like corks. A stop at Qumran was next, where the Dead Sea scrolls were found.

That's the cave where most of the major scrolls were found. We saw them later the same day at the Israel Museum (more on that later). To go back to Jerusalem from the Dead Sea, you make a left turn at the road to Jericho. A tour guide for Jericho was waiting for us at the Jericho turn-off:

He's even smiling at us. Along the way back, we stopped at a Druze village near the monastery of St. George. It has the most marvelous view of the Judaean hills:

Back in Jerusalem, we toured the archaeology wing (it's vast!) and the Shrine of the Book, where the Dead Sea scrolls are on display. No photography allowed here, so I link you to the fiber-related item I saw on display. Neat huh? Top whorl too. So ended another day of adventures and wonders.

Israel trip, Part 2

This is the scene on the road between Jerusalem and Hebron, also known as Derech Avos, the Way of the Patriarchs. You can see an Arab farmer tending his vines at upper right, with his donkey gamboling nearby. That donkey had a lot to say. We stopped for lunch in Kiryas Arba, where I had the best falafel ever. From here we drove to the Cave of Machpelah, second holiest site to Jews. We were greeted by this very happy scene:

It's a throne for a bride, from which she greets guests and receives traditional compliments. In Herod's time a fortified wall was erected around the cave; later on Crusaders, Mamelukes, and Ottomans added onto to the structure above the caves themselves. Inside are synagogues around where the patriarchs are buried. This is the one where the wedding took place:

The cenotaphs of the patriarchs and matriarchs are covered with elaborated embroidered cloths. We could not see the ones of Isaac or Rebecca, for Jews are only allowed to go there 10 days out of the year. Isaac, you may recall, was the son of Abraham by Sarah and the father of Jacob and Esau.

Tradition holds that these cenotaphs are those of Adam and Eve. There are bones buried in the caves under the cenotaphs but archaeological exploration is no longer done (I think it ceased in 1927).

This is the cenotaph of Avrohom Avinu, Abraham our Father. Seeing this sent chills up my spine: this was something I heard about, learned about when I was such a small child and could only hope to see someday.

This is Sarah's cenotaph. It was for her burial that Abraham bought Machpelah from Ephron the Hittite, as recounted in Genesis 23: 2-16. Ephron wanted to give Machpelah and the fields around it to Abraham out of respect. Abraham demurred and offered fair market value: 400 silver shekels. Ephron accepted and drew up a contract of sale. So Machpelah became the family burial plot for Abraham and his descendants. My mother, may she rest in peace, was a Sarah.

We spent a bit of time here, prayed the afternoon service (Minchah), took photos of the other cenotaphs, then headed to Hebron. There's a beautiful old synagogue there known as the Avrohom Avinu synagogue. Some Jews fleeing Spain in 1492 brought their Torah scrolls here.

We ended the day at Kever Rachel, Rachel's Tomb, on the road to Bethlechem. This is the third holiest to Jews, and a very auspicious place to pray, especially for women. DD#1 is a Rachel, so it has special meaning for me to pray here for her, her sister, and for my entire family. Sitting in the synagogue here I felt that miracles could occur around me.

After the intense experience of Kever Rachel it was time to head back to Jerusalem. More adventures will come in my next posts.
L'hitraot!

Israel Trip, part 1

I returned from Israel Tuesday morning. My emotions ran the spectrum from elation to sorrow. I loved Israel: the sights, historical wonders, the food, the aura of holiness that seemed to permeate everyday comings and goings. I took over 200 photos, some of which I'll show you in these posts.

Day 1 my nephew David and I arrived in Tel Aviv at dawn. As we drove towards Jerusalem in the rain, I looked back at Tel Aviv and saw a double rainbow connecting clouds to earth. As DH put it, what an awesome (in the literal sense of the word) sign. After a brief rest (neither of us slept during the 10 hour flight), we headed out to the Old City to the Kotel (Western Wall, holiest of all places to Jews). In pouring rain (soaked through my raincoat). With thunder. With hail (sounds like a few plagues, no?). To be greeted by this site at the Kotel:

We prayed the afternoon service (Minchah) and took more photos:

This is the women's side of the Kotel. I cannot describe how I felt when I stood next to the wall, touched it, prayed at it, cried to it. The stones are always warm, maybe they feel the intense emotion they evoke.

We explored a bit more. I looked for ancient ruins like these Roman columns from the old market place:

When we returned to my brother's apartment, my brother (DB) and father arrived from their LA to Tel Aviv flight. Dinner was next, at Herzl House, the place where Theodor Herzl stayed the single time he visited Israel.

The next day we went to the Mea Shearim to shop (I had quite a list from family). On the way I spotted this, the Artists House:

I completed most of my shopping in one place, then we went back to the apartment because of the cold rain (my father is 87 after all).

Here's my father in his jaunty cap on Mea Shearim Street.

Wednesday was a landmark occasion for me. DB hired a private tour guide for me. We started at Mt Zion, site of the tomb of King David.

That's David with me by the statue of King David outside the tomb site. From there we went through the Zion Gate into the Old City:

See the funnel above the gate? That's for pouring the boiling oil when invaders come.

This is the Hurva synagogue, it was the main Ashkenazi synagogue in Jerusalem before it was destroyed in 1948. It was rebuilt less than a year ago. Hurva means destroyed in Hebrew, I forgot the original name of it. I came back here for Sabbath morning services. It is magnificent inside.

Don't know what this is, but I found it somewhere in the Jewish Quarter.

These are ruins from the time of the Hasmoneans next to the underground shopping gallery in the Cardo. In a Roman city, the Cardo was the heart of a city and the main north-south street. In Jerusalem, the Cardo is the underground Roman shopping gallery. Where there are no shops, it looks like this:

The floors look like this:

Imagine walking on hills paved with these in clogs. Yep, I wore clogs to Israel. No traction whatsoever. My thighs got a good workout. We climbed back up Mt Zion to get our car and head out for new adventures. I'll save those for the next post.