Jerusalem is only an hours drive from Tel Aviv. And driving into the city, one immediately thinks one is in a different country. While in Tel Aviv, people were walking around like in any Western country, here the contrast is stark and visible on each street corner, on each bus stop. Ultra orthodox jews everywhere. The men recongnizable by their black outfits, two long temple locks, Kippa or other head coverings, knotted strings hanging from their trousers and the women in very demure attire. Always wearing a black, long skirt, head scarf or often a wig, no bare skin. It seems to be true what the Israelis say: Party in Tel Aviv, Pray in Jerusalem and work in Haifa.
We parked our car close to the Damascus gate, one of the most beautiful gates leading into the city and only a few minutes walk to our hotel. Ordinary folks have to walk into the old town, as the streets are very narrow and through many only little motorbikes can pass. Walking through Damascus Gate felt like walking back centuries. At 3 PM the narrow street was bustling with pedestrians, little market stalls right and left, offering their wares, and oriental smells wafting throughout. It“s the middle of Muslim quarter and you can feel the energizing atmosphere of people milling about shopping.
We were lucky to get rooms in the Austrian Hospice, a jewel of a large historic building, beautifully kept in excellent shape and supported by an army of Christian volunteers who are here for a few months in exchange for a memorable and humbling exprience living in such memorable surroundings. The Austrian Hospice is a catholic pilgrim guest house run by the archdiocese of Vienna … and many volunteers. It is weird to get served Meindl Coffee, see Schnitzel on the menu and being served a Linzer Torte as dessert. The rooms are large and basic, what was good for the Kaiser Franz Josef I was certainly good enough for us. Plenty of European nobles stayed here when visiting the holy land.
More pictures here.
After checking in and looking at a very nice sunset to come, we decided to head out immediately to a high point from where we could have a good view of the old town and the dome of the rock bathed in golden light. Chris was here several times so he knew that the tower of the redeemer church was the best spot for great sunset views. Seems still a secret, as we were the only ones climbing up hundreds of narrow steps until the top platform. But it was well worth it. The views from atop were stunning. The dome of the rock glinting golden in the distance, the Mount of Olives serving as a perfect backdrop. We“ll get back to the dome in tomorrows post.
It is hard to top that sunset view. But equally memorable was our visit if the church of the holy sepulchre. What a strange constellation. Four different christian fractions share the same grounds and churches in very complex ways. First the Etiopian Christians, we went through the back door of the little Ethiopian church.
The Ethiopians were originally not part of the main movement but still wanted to partake. They therefore settled on the roof of the main church with two little chapels like an add on to the main church. The three parties controlling the church now are the Franciscans representing the roman catholic strain, the Armenian apostolic church, and the greek orthodox church. Each of the confessions has areas and times for prayer in the main church and when one confession leaves, the other has many ritiuals to „purge“ the air before their disciples arrive for prayer. When we were there the Franciscans were in charge.
The church itself is surprisingly vast inside with many side rooms and chapels dedicated to various Saints. Here is where Jesus is said to be crucified, taken off the cross to be prepared for burial and also where he was buried and resurrected again.
One could clearly see how deeply emotional many of the visitors were to be here in person at the very place where they had read and heard so much about during their lives.
We spend quite a long time wandering through the different rooms and parts of the church, before making our way outside and down to the westen wall. It is amazing to pass from one religion to another in a mere few hundred meters. Black robed jews – men and women – flooded to the western wall, down by the temple mountain. A sea of black with the occasional colorful tourist bobbing their head out of the masses, It was prayer time and the western wall was packed several rows deep with people. Men on the larger left part and women on the smaller right side of the wall. With my blond hair and trousers I felt a bit out of place, but I did not feel uncomfortable.
Then at 5 PM the Muezzin started calling and all three big religions felt condensed into one city with so much history, living side by side sometimes peacefully, sometimes not. And that“s how it was for hundreds of years and probably will be for the next hundred years.
Tired from all the up and down walking across town, we decided to have dinner at the Austrian Hospice and settle into bed early. What a memorable first day!
