The Peace of the Sabbath

The sunshine came streaming in the windows on the last day of the 2nd JNF Queen of Sheba Mission.  Jane was off to Saturday morning services and following breakfast at the King David, I would join a few of the other women on a tour of the Old City.  Although the King David is renowned for its sumptuous breakfast, I had eaten so much the night before, I could only manage a rice cake and some yogurt.

I met Miri, the Tour Guide extraordinaire, and a handful of ladies out front of the hotel for the start of our walking tour.  Sunny with a cool breeze in the air, the weather was perfect for the hike we were about to begin.

We literally turned the corner and made our first stop of record at a small excavation site behind the King David Hotel.  Here was the site of the family tombs of King Herod.  We climbed down the ravine and listened as Miri described how the site was discovered and its historical implications.

Leaving this site we came to a lovely park where the air was ripe with fresh basil & mint.  This was the neighborhood of Yemin Moshe in which the Montefiore Windmill stood.  We crossed to a square made entirely of Jerusalem stone with a fountain of water running like a stream between two walled edifices.  While looking about the square, I saw a number of men in prayer shawls and hats (hasidic style) walking by, on their way from morning prayer.

We crossed the busy highway and came to the Jaffa Gate where we entered the Old City.

I apparently stopped listening to Miri at this point as I was captivated by everything I saw around me.  It was Saturday, which meant all Jewish businesses were closed until the end of Shabbat, but Arab shops and vendors were ready to sell whatever they could to whoever would buy.  Miri was aware that we could easily be taken advantage of and shooed us away from shops uping their prices to naive tourists like us.

The cobblestone streets and the ancient wall lend you to believe you have stepped back in time.  An ancient looking Arab man sat taking in the sun, while a Greek Priest stepped out of a taxi and 3 young seminarians dressed in long black robes hurried in the other direction, as we proceeded to the Armenian Quarter.  It was a quiet morning in the Armenian Quarter, although one or two shops featuring brightly colored pottery were open for trade, as we passed St. James Church and proceeded down St. James Road to the Jewish Quarter.

Businesses were shut tight, but men and women were out pushing babies in strollers, while little children played in a park just above an archeological site that was purpoted to be the remains of the First Temple.  Many skinny cats ran along the walls in search of a meal or lazed sleepily on the stone walls.  We stood looking down on the Roman columns of the Cardo that is a popular tourist spot during the weekday but was closed today.

The Old City is not a series of streets laid out in an easy to follow grid, but stone edifices piled layer upon layer, with narrow corridors in between.  We went down a dark winding stairway and up another set stairs, until we were standing on the roof tops of the Jewish Quarter.  From this vantage point we could see the Dome of the Rock's (Mosque) round golden roof shining brightly.  A little to the South we had a view of Al Aqsa Mosque with its black dome.  We had a splendid view of Mt. of Olives and the Seven Arches Hotel and the Church of Gethsemane (Greek Orthodox) which lies East of the Old City.

We moved off the roof into the very narrow street that makes up the Arab Souk (Market) crowded with merchants and shoppers on both sides.  The street is a series of very wide steps and you must be careful to watch where you are going (and hold tightly to your wallet).  Once again, our time was limited, as it would have been nice to stop and browse the stalls of the souk.  I made a mental note to return to the Old City on a weekday when I could browse the Cardo and leisurely wind my way through the Arab Souk.

We came to Christian Quarter at the courtyard of the Church of the Holy Sepulcre.  This is the sight of Cavalry (Golgotha) on which Jesus was crucified and it remains a holy site for all denominations that accept Christ as the Messiah.  Christians believe that this church is built upon the tomb that Christ was laid in by his followers following the cruxifixion.

I saw Christian pilgrims reverently touching the stone on which Christ was believed to have been laid upon.

Built by Emperor Constantine, the Church of the Holy Sepulcre is shared by the Eastern Orthodox community made up of Armenians, Greeks, & Syrians, as well as the Roman Catholic Church.

It was very crowded and the church echoed with voices in prayer and tourists like ourselves moving about in this darkened place filled with the smell of burning incense.  From what I could see, worshippers approach the Anastasia Rotunda to light a candle at the golden Eastern Orthodox altar behind which a Priest stands to assist them.

Miri led us behind the Rotunda to what I believe was an ancient chapel and burial place.  There we had to be careful not to bump our heads on the stones above.

When we emerged from the church we had to take a moment to readjust our eyes to the sunlight.  As we left the courtyard we saw 3 Israeli soldiers stationed next to a guard house just above the square.

Next we entered a square in the Arab souk with its stalls of brightly colored rugs, jewelry, and even baseball caps.  Miri gave us 20 minutes for a quick spot of shopping.  I didn't think I would buy something here, first because I couldn't imagine adding a rug to my carry-on luggage and secondly, I was afraid that I would come out on the losing end of the art of the deal (better known as bargaining) in the souk.

I had a quick look around and saw a pretty bag with just enough ethnic authenticity that it made the perfect souvenir for my day in the Old City.  With that I entered the shop - grateful that I hadn't yet been approached outside and handed the item to the clerk.  It was a large shop, with many Christian religious items for sale, as well as the inevitable tourist knick knacks.  The clerk told me the price and like Ralph Fiennes in the English Patient "I wasn't in a mood to bargain" I purchased not a saphfron filled thimble for my love but a good tote bag to carry my ipod, magazines and tennis shoes on the plane.

I grabbed a soft drink at a stand and watched as the locals enjoyed their water pipes in the street behind the shops.  A young Arab man anxious to make a sale approached me as he saw our group scurrying behind Miri.  He questioned me about buying, but I told him he should speak with our guide as she was in charge.  This is not true, but it did the trick and he ran off to seek a bigger prospect.  I don't think he received the response from Miri he wanted, as I later saw him badgering some of my group to buy ball caps.  When they politely declined, he feigned insult and said "you don't buy from me because I'm an Arab".  The women rushed to assure him that was not the case and it certainly wasn't as a number of them were making some major purchases in other shops in the Arab market.

By the time we left the Old City the pleasant morning breeze was a thing of the past and "hot" was how we were feeling.

We were due at Mishkenot Sha'ananim a guest hostel for visiting artists and writers.  After the long hike it felt wonderful to enter that beautiful building with its A/C, clean washroom and table set for lunch.  It is a lovely building seemingly organic to its setting as it was built from stone and had wide windows looking out at courtyards filled with varieties of palm trees.

Following a lunch of salads, roasted vegetables, fruit, cake & coffee we moved to another part of the complex for our afternoon session.  On our way we passed through a small room that contained a very large photograph depicting the last supper with IDF soldiers in place of Christ & his Apostles.  I found it very intriguing.

In a large room at Mishkenot Sha'ananim virtually empty except for chairs placed in a circle around the walls, we spoke about our feelings about the Mission we had just about completed and what it meant to us as Jewish women, mothers, sisters, wives, daughters and friends.  We had been asked to bring a special object from home that linked us to Israel and/or our Jewish heritage, which we would share with the group.

Surprisingly, there were less tears and more laughter than I expected.  Which is not to say there were not a few heart tugging moments during the two hour session.  It was obvious that in the past 10 days we had done much more than share a bus for sight seeing, we had experienced Israel and Zionism in practice.

We went 'round the room and each person spoke about the personal object they brought, their experience in Israel and what it meant to them.  A common thread was the gratefulness each person expressed toward the group and our leader Tali.  In the end Tali had us play a game that featured a ball of yarn that was passed from one woman to another she wanted to make a wish for.  In the end the yarn formed a strange spider web in which we were all connected.

After we finished we boarded the bus for the King David to pack our bags and ready for our farewell dinner.

There was a bit of a foul up with our electronic keys when we tried to get back into our rooms to pack up.  I trekked up and down the stairs a total of 3 times after having the desk clerk "fix" my key.  Eventually a porter was sent who used his pass key to let me in.

I'm not sure if this was a security measure that got botched up or just your ordinary computer glitch.  I hoped Condaleeza Rice, who was checking in that evening would not have the same problem.  Somehow, I doubted she would.

I had planned to check-out and take my giant suitcase to the Prima Royale hotel, my home for the next 2 nights.  I had originally planned to grab a taxi, but after looking at the map and being told the Prima Royale was a mere 2 blocks away, I elected to save a few shekels and walk there.  Jane, who quite wisely had elected to remain at the King David another night, volunteered to help me take my things to the Prima Royale.  This was not a good idea as we soon found out.

I inadvertantly led us all around a city block, when we merely needed to cross the street and walk a block over.  Lesson learned - when in foreign city with large suitcase and carry-ons opt for the taxi.  It is worth the cost.

Now to go from the King David to the Prima is like going from a stately mansion to a cape cod suburban home in Levittown.  I knew this, but my budget necessitated the change.  With this in mind the lobby of the Prima was quite nice, with a bar and a breakfast room, not to mention the large tour buses outside confirmed it had passed some minimal tourist hotel standards.

The elevator dropped me off on my floor and I immediately felt buyers remorse as it was just a tad less attractive than your average Ramada Inn.  The room was tiny, dark and depressing.  I either didn't know how to operate the remote control correctly or the tv was broken.  Okay, I reasoned you are only going to be sleeping here and with that I dropped my bags on the floor and headed back to the King David for dinner.

Dinner was held in a dining room facing the garden, but the view was not at all important to our group.  We were all a bit tired as we began contemplating our next stops, whether it was more time in Israel (like me) or an 11-hour flight back to the States that night.

We received pretty little silver compact mirrors with a crown on one side and the JNF logo on the other.  These souvenirs came to us like summer campers with Marci announcing "Best at ...", "Most remembered for...", before she announced our names.  And before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye.

I want to mention a few women who stood out for me:  Lilian, who had an enthusiasm of a teenager, although she is over 80 and her daughter-in-law Alice, a woman who personfied graciousness; Jean and Joan, twin sisters who had just turned 80 and were inquisitive, funny, warm, and determined to have a good time; and lastly, Audrey,  a little sprite of a woman whose bubbled with delight at every step of the journey and whose lovely smile and good nature were positively infectious.  These women make you proud to be a human being and they are what I want to be when I grow up.

Here I parted company with Jane, who in the lottery of roommates was a real winner, as she departed the King David for an evening concert.

I sat next to super Sara from San Francisco at supper, a woman whose sense of humor had me in stiches throughout our trip.  Sara, a Waste Management Expert was staying on in Israel to conduct seminars at a Kibbutz near Eilat.  She was spending that night in Jerusalem and we decided we would check out Ben Yehuda Street and the Jerusalem night life post-shabbat.

Sara and I hiked down King David Street and found our way past the cafes and the crowds to Ben Yehuda Street.  Along the way we were stopped and asked about the bus situation.  I, rotten person that I am, would have just shrugged and said "can't help you", but Sara is a much kinder human being and pointed out a bus stop and a someone else who might know the bus schedule.

Ben Yehuda and the streets leading to it were filled with young people.  From Zion Square on Jaffa Road up to the intersection of King George V Street, Ben Yehuda is a cobblestoned thoroughfare of jewelry, gift, sportswear, religious items, flower shops, etc. designed to attract tourists needing just the right gift to take home.  Sara and I fit that demographic to a T.

We began at Number 1 Ben Yehuda Street, as Sara was looking for a gift for baby not yet born necessitating a uni-sex item.  This jewelry and gift shop was operated by 2 brothers, one of whom was in the store with his son, who assisted us.  We looked at and liked many items, but being good comparison shoppers thought it best to continue up Ben Yehuda to see what else we might find.

Along the way I saw lots of jewelry that I'd love to have bought, but was well beyond my price range.  Eventually we came upon a store that sold Jewish religious articles and I suddenly decided that hand-made crochet yamulkas (kippas) were what I was looking for.  I bargained a bit and got, what Sara later confirmed was a good price, for 2 adult kippas in shades of blue and green and 2 childrens kippas which were embroidered with the acronym for the IDF.  Coming full circle we ended up back at Number 1 Ben Yehuda Street where Sara bought a lovely spice holder.

Heading back to the King David we stopped at a Starbuck-like set up for some lattes.  Here I figured I'd take the opportunity to use my Hebrew name, given at birth and only used on the occasion of my Bas Mitzvah.  This worked fine, until I realized it probably is as common as say "Debbie" back home.  But no problem, I got my hot drink and we settled down into chairs to discuss our purchases and people watch.

We walked to the King David where Sara was staying and said our goodbyes, promising to keep in touch.  I then set out to my less than stellar hotel inaptly named the "Prima Royale" - which as Mike Meyers as Linda Richman would say "was neither prima or royale, discuss".

Perhaps the sadness of the end of the mission, coupled with the depressing hotel room and a bit of homesickness got to me, because I called home for the first time since I arrived in Israel.  All was well and I was assured by my mother that everybody missed me, including her cat.  I had actually been in touch by email from internet cafes and hotels along the way, so I knew all was fine, but it was still nice to hear their voices.

After hanging up, I dimmed the lights and began to read about tomorrow's destination --- Masada and the Dead .  Too soon exhaustion took hold and I closed my eyes for the day.