My two-month hiatus from blogging is ended with a retrospective weigh-in on Jerusalem, a post that I have been dreading to write. I have, in the end, nothing to say except the falafel was good.
I got in on a sherut (a shared taxi, like the Turkish Dolmus) and journeyed out the Bethlehem the same evening after arrival. I waited in line behind some hundreds of SLR-toting American tourists waiting to see the birthplace. The payoff was a small silver star in the basement of a chapel.
That night I made friends in the hostel and barhopped outside of the Old City. It took the edge off of the desert night spent on a rooftop, but ate any chance I had of seeing the dead sea that trip.
For two days I saw the sites. Wailing wall. Mount of Olives. Mexicans riding a camel and taking pictures at the Mount of Olives. Tomb of David. Church of the Holy Sepulchre (crucifixion site one). Mary’s Tomb. Garden Tomb (crucifixion site two). Solomon’s Pillars. Zacharia’s Tomb. The Basilica of Agony. Golgotha? Here they are, in random order.
The only thing I did not see was the Dome of the Rock, which I’m told is the coolest thing in the city, but which was closed to non-Muslims for the holiday.
That’s it. There, I’ve done it. I don’t need to tell you about being intimidated by pre-pubescent street kids or hassled for money from every person with a pulse. You don’t need to hear about the pervasive anti-semitism of the invention of relics from the crusades. I doubt you’d be interested to know that there is nothing holy that isn’t being sold and that Abraham’s legacy is the peddling of cheap wares and indiscriminate violence. Thinking about those things is what kept me from writing this post for so long, so if you want to hear about it, go there.
