From A Thin Place

2009-12-05T12:31:00.003+02:00

For Photos and Log of my year in Israel and the West Bank please go to the Blog Archive and look at the years 2007 and 2008.

ABC Wednesday - N

2009-04-22T23:54:00.015+03:00

N is for New Haven

One month ago I moved to the City of New Haven in Connecticut. New Haven is home to Yale University, the Amistad Schooner and lots of 17th Century history of the first settlers to the new land. I've shown you a few photos of the immediate New Haven Green area. There are lots of great neighborhoods and history that will show up in later ABC Wednesday posts.A view down Chapel Street that runs along New Haven Green. The 17th century Puritan founders chose a nine square plan with streets and houses that surrounded the Public Square.The immediate building in the front is City Hall. The carillon chimes to mark the hours. I liked the old framed by the new building.
On New Haven Green there are three churches that sit side by side. One is Episcopal and the other two are United Church of Christ.

This sculpture sits in the city hall plaza. It's titled "On High" by Alexander Lieberman.

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ABC Wednesday - M

2009-04-15T04:55:00.007+03:00

M is for My Mom Loretta Engler Warner

1919-1986

Click here to see more ABC Wednesday M posts

ABC Wednesday - L

2009-04-08T05:16:00.013+03:00

L is for Lace

My daughter is getting married in September and we've been looking at dresses. She has found her dress and she found some other beautiful lacy dresses too. You'll have to wait until September to see "the one"! For other great L posts see Mrs. Nesbitt at ABC Wednesday...quick...time is running out...go now...fast...before it's too late.

ABC Wednesday - K

2009-04-01T22:35:00.009+03:00

K is for Kormorant. I was on Cape Cod in October and found the kormorants sitting on the sand sunning themselves. Then, something spooked them and they all took off. It looked chaotic at first but then they got it all together. I think that kormorant can also be spelled with a c as in cormorant. I've been saving these photos for my K entry so there you go! For more K entries you can see Mrs. Nesbitt at ABC Wednesday.

2009-03-30T03:49:00.001+03:00

I SO didn't mess up these pillows.

ABC Wednesday - J

2009-03-25T22:19:00.010+02:00

A J late and a dollar short.

That's what I am this week, late. Even though it is Wednesday still in Connecticut, I realize that most ABCer's post on Tuesday. So, here's a late J and not so creative, but...This is a photo of Jerusalem during a hamseen. Hamseen's are hot, dry winds that blow in from the desert and stagnate. They last for a day or two and then when the winds kick up but they are cool and they blow all the schmutz out of the air. The schmutz...sand!

Check out Mrs. Nesbitt and the other ABC posts.

ABC Wednesday - I

2009-03-17T23:59:00.004+02:00

I is for Isabella

This is Isabella, a little friend of mine. She's a happy girl eating her Kraft Mac 'n Cheese.

For other I posts please see

Mrs. Nesbit at ABC Wednesday.

ABC Wednesday - H

2009-03-11T03:54:00.007+02:00

H is for hearing aid.

This is my friend Leonette. Leonette is 106 years old and is still reading books, making cards and their envelopes (she lived through the depression), and going to Bible study. A few weeks ago I went over to the assisted living home to have dinner with her.

She got all dressed up, grabbed her walker and right before we went for the door, she raised her hand to her ear and said, "Let's see, hearing aid and earrings, just checking." Then we were off to dinner.

Please go to ABC Wednesday, hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt, for other H posts.

ABC Wednesday - G

2009-03-02T18:07:00.034+02:00

G is for Graves

Call me odd but I have a fondness for stumbling around graveyards. I find it interesting not morbid and insightful into the ways which people honor and memorialize their loved ones. This post has photos of graves that I've visited in the past couple of years. Some are famous and some are not. The first three photos were taken at the Guilford (I know another G) Cemetery in Connecticut. New England cemeteries date pretty far back.

Here is the grave of Oskar Schindler. Schindler, a Nazi during the Shoah, saved the lives of 1,300 Jewish men and women. His story was told in the movie "Shindler's List". He is buried at Mount Zion Cemetery in Jerusalem, Israel.

The cemetery on the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem.

These are the graves of some of the fallen soldiers from many of the wars that Israel has fought. They are buried in Mt. Herzl Military Cemetery in Jerusalem.

The graves of Yitzhak Rabin and his wife Leah. His grave is the black marker. They too are buried on Mt. Herzl Cemetery in Jerusalem.

This is a photo of the grave of Mahatma Gandhi in Delhi, India.

The grave of someone unknown to me, buried in a cemetery at the Milk Grotto Church in Bethlehem, West Bank.

May they all rest in peace.

For many more G posts, please go to ABC Wednesday...you won't be disappointed!

ABC Wednesday - F

2009-02-25T03:22:00.010+02:00

F is for Fabulous, Fantastic FOOD So what's special about this food? After all it just looks like a plate of tomatoes, fruit and cheese, right? But no! This platter of fabulous food I devoured at the Austrian Hospice in the Old City of Jerusalem. It was a warm spring day teetering on hot. It was midday and the patio was open for lunch. It's on the second floor of the hospice. All I had to do was to go to the edge of the patio to look over into the streets of the Muslim Quarter. The Palestinian Taybeh (pronounced tie-bay) beer quenched our thirst as we listened to the sound of the muezzin in the background. What you don't see here is the delicious apple strudel that they are known for. The best in the Holy Land!

For more fun F entries visit ABC Wednesday, click here!

Quickie Picture Meme

2009-02-19T20:37:00.014+02:00

Cynthia at Reverend Mom tagged me on this one.

1. Grab the nearest book - no matter what it is. Textbook, novel, popup book, building code study guide, whatever.

2. Turn to page 25.

3. Read the 10th word on that page, or the following page if that one is blank.

4. Type the word into Google Image Search.

5. Post the third image.

6. Tag 4 people and tell them.

7. Link back to this post - which I do right here.

The book was The Little Critter Guides: Cats. The editor is Paul McGreevy. My word was Rex as in the cat breed Cornish Res.

Now I'm tagging Dina, Nan,. Ok, so I don't really know so many bloggers!

ABC Wednesday - E

2009-02-18T05:00:00.008+02:00

E is for Empty Headed This empty head was sitting on the shelf next to plaster head at the Mercy Center in Madison, Connecticut. Neither one had much to contribute really.

For more ABC Wednesday posts have a look here!

ABC Wednesday - D

2009-02-11T02:00:00.008+02:00

D is for Dragon FruitThe first time that I ever saw a Dragon Fruit was at Makane Yehuda souk in Jerusalem. What a beautiful color, magenta as magenta could be. Although I didn't see any some of the dragon fruit have white or red centers. The dragon fruit is native to Central and South America but now is grown in Asian countries as well. In Spanish it is called pitaya and is part of the cactaceae family. Legend has it, by the Asian marketers, that the fruit was created thousands of years ago by a fire breathing dragon and when he breathed the fire the last to come out of his mouth was this fruit. Nice story, I knew there was a reason that I didn't like dragons. Although the fruit is beautiful to behold, in my opinion it is a rather dull tasting fruit, just sweet.

For other darn good ABC posts, click HERE.

ABC Wednesday - C

2009-02-04T02:50:00.027+02:00

C celebrates my Canine friends! This is Milo! He's my canine and was born in Bethlehem, Connecticut in 2002. He's the BEST DOG that ever walked the face of this earth. A blab, that is beagle lab mix, he loves to hang out and be lovable but at a moment's notice he'll jump up and howl at a passing dear.

Here's Eva, the Rottweiler and Topsy a mini-Schnauzer. They're sisters and love to sing together to Grateful Dead tunes. Milo thinks they are pretty cool dogs to run with tearing up the backyard.

Here's Eva again protecting me.

Another friend is Licorice. Licky is some sort of mix, I think lab - German shepherd or something like that. Licks is OLD and is sick with Diabetes and Arthritis. I'm afraid she's not long on this earth but she seems happy. She is really happy when Milo comes for a visit, she perks up and puts on her best.

Meet Trotsky a mini poodle. I met Trotsky in Jerusalem but he actually lives in Brooklyn, New York. Trotsky lived next door with a friend. Each Friday night, Shabbat, Trotsky would be my Shabbat date (I'd dogsit) since I don't normally observe Shabbat. T was a yipper and when my friend would come to pick him up he would be so excited that he would repeatedly jump in the air, all fours off of the ground. If Milo ever found out that Carole took Trot to live in Jerusalem and I didn't take him, well.We end with Milo once again, this is his Bedouin pose. He has quite an affinity for them.

Quite handsome a handsome guy.

For more C posts visit my friends at ABC Wednesday.

ABC Wednesday - B

2009-01-28T04:55:00.004+02:00

Brownstones in Brooklyn, New York

For more B posts go to ABC Wednesday.

Hardy Mum

2009-01-25T03:33:00.004+02:00

A trip into the greenhouse at the Mercy Center in Madison, Connecticut was quite lovely on this cold and grey winter's day.

ABC Wednesday - A

2009-01-23T02:55:00.010+02:00

Well, yes I have been a slacker to ABC Wednesday. I've got plenty of excuses from which I will spare you. When I clicked on today, for the first time since December 10, 2008, I was happy to see that this week's letter is A. There's nothing like redemption and the chance to begin a new.

The photo that I've chosen for my post is taken from a B & B on Moshav Amirim in the Galilee, Israel. The Inn is called Zivon, noted for the stunning views of the Galilee, wonderful rooms, and hot tubs! Really, there is nothing like sitting in a hot tub at night overlooking the Galilee region. Amirim is close to Safed.

This view is leading down to the hot tub area - daylight of course.

Make sure that you visit other ABC Wednesday posts.

ABC Wednesday - U

2008-12-10T20:34:00.006+02:00

U is for UGLY! UNBELIEVABLE isn't it? An UNTIMELY and UNUSUAL demise for such a little guy. When I think of the Sea of Galilee or the Kinnerett I usually remember the parables of Jesus about boats and fisherman and feeding of lots and lots of people. This guy didn't make it into the basket I guess. This photo was taken in June on one of the rocks at the Sea.

For much better posts than this one....see Mrs. Nesbitt at ABC Wednesday.

And God Said...

2008-12-07T20:07:00.007+02:00

...let there be white. And there was white. And it was good.

A Really Late ABC Wednesday

2008-12-05T05:57:00.005+02:00

T is for...what else???

TURKEY

OK, so these turkey's are a little, let's say, unusual. They're from Gozzi's Turkey Farm in Guilford, Connecticut. Yummy, I'll take the magenta one. Check out more ABC entries at ABC Wednesday.

ABC Wednesday - S

2008-11-25T21:22:00.011+02:00

S is for Subway

A few weeks ago I ventured into the Big Apple, New York City, to visit a friend of mine who lives in Brooklyn. I arrived in Grand Central Terminal and hopped on a subway to Brooklyn. As I was waiting for my train I heard music from the platform across the tracks. If you have to spend some extra minutes waiting for the train, this is the way to do it.

Finally my train came but not before I SNAPPED this picture of the musician SANDWICHED between the SUBWAY cars.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Make sure you check ABC Wednesday to see more interpretations of S.

ABC Wednesday - R

2008-11-17T18:07:00.017+02:00

R is for RangoliRangoli is an art form in India that uses colored sand to make beautiful designs on the ground. They start out with dots making a geometric pattern and then the dots are filled in with white chalk to make these beautiful designs and flowers. The colored sand completes the design. They're created on the pavement of streets or the dirt right in front of peoples front doors.

Rangoli is created in southern India during the harvest festival of Pongal at the beginning of the new year.

In January of 2007 I visited Astrid Rowe Memorial High School, Hyderabad in the state of
Andrah Pradish, India. I was with Friends of Christ in India an outreach mission program of Greenfield Hill Congregational Church, UCC in Fairfield, CT. On our last day they had a rangoli competition, the girls were working very hard on their designs.
This particular rangoli was on the ground in the Khammam district, a very rural and poverty ridden area outside of Hyderabad. We took 30 teenagers on retreat to visit elderly, boys and girls hostels and a leper colony.
In the center of the flowers and the design is usually some sort of dung (don't ask) and marigold petals.

Back at the high school.

Sari old me down helping one girl out with her rangoli.

Happy pongal everyone. For more rockin' R entries see Ms. Nesbitt at ABC Wednesday.

ABC Wednesday - Q

2008-11-12T17:08:00.014+02:00

Q is for Quotidian!

Quotidian is one of my favorite words. I love the way it sounds, it rolls right off of your tongue into a peaceful exhale. It's not a quotidian word for me, in fact I almost never use it when I'm talking and I hardly ever see it in print. It's difficult to place in a sentence. But it's there, and it's a good one.

Quotidian = kwoh - tid - ee - uhn

Adjective
1. daily: a quotidian report
2. usual or customary; everyday: quotidian needs
3. ordinary; commonplace: paintings of no more than quotidian artistry

Noun
4. something recurring daily: a quotidian fever

The quotidian endeavors in life give us structure and familiarity. The newspaper delivered at your door, a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a walk with the dog, a call to your mother are a part of what and who you are and, what you hold meaningful in life. Quotidian activities, while they may seem to be rote, ho hum or even boring by virtue of being quotidian can also exemplify the extraordinary. How would we know otherwise?

There are other Q's to behold at ABC Wednesday, click here.

ABC Wednesday - P

2008-11-06T02:44:00.013+02:00

P is for President!

America has a new President Barack Hussein Obama

44th President of the United States

For more ABC Wednesday posts....click here!

ABC Wednesday - O

2008-10-29T15:48:00.016+02:00

O is for the Oranges of October

Ohhh, the O's of autumn in a New England October. It doesn't get any better than that in my opinion! Today's letter is O for ABC Wednesday. Here in Connecticut the color orange is everywhere you look. On the trees, on the ground, on your kitchen table or floor there is no better place than this time of year in New England.

There are many other great and wonderful O entries at ABC Wednesday hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt. Click HERE to have a look. Happy O day!

I Think I'm Just Getting Old

2008-10-24T18:28:00.025+02:00

I was on Metro-North Commuter Railroad yesterday, off to visit a friend and to hear a lecture. There was a poster ad in my car that caught my eye before I closed my eyes for a nap. Big Bird, as yellow as I remember him from all those years of watching him interact with my children ONLY ONE HOUR A DAY, was alerting the public to a new television channel. Sprout. Sprout promises that your child could see old friends like Big Bird and make new friends.

Great, my kids loved Big Bird, Burt and Ernie, Maria, David and of course Mr. Hooper. I can remember the episode that explained with Will Lee's death (Mr. Hooper) to these young viewers. We were all crying.

But the show was only one hour a day. Sprout on the other hand is a new 24 HOUR channel. That's right, your pre-schooler, that is any 3-5 year old child, can now watch their own channel 24 hours a day. Dog gone it, they're lucky and their mothers and fathers even luckier!

Then, I started to think. What pre-schooler needs to be able to watch TV 24 hours a day? What parent in his or her mind would let their pre-schooler watch TV 24 hours a day? I don't care if it IS Big Bird or if they resurrect Mr. Hooper from the dead. A pre-school channel accessible 24 hours a day is OVERKILL. Not necessary. Excessive and quite frankly so American.

Last night I was at the home of my good friends. As usual we hottubbed, drank a margarita, ordered a pizza and settled in for some TV. We flipped stations, you know what I mean. Back and forth, around and around. We just couldn't find anything that was appealing.

Marcia said, "I don't know exactly where and when that line is crossed that you know your old but somehow you know when you've crossed over." Indeed we have crossed. What happened to I Love Lucy reruns? To Northern Exposure? To The Bill Cosby Show? To Bonanza for crying out loud? Now all you can find is reality upon reality. Why would I want to watch reality when I live reality? I want fantasy and some good, belly aching laughs. I want tears of laughter to roll down my cheeks.

We ate our pizza and watched "What Not to Wear" - a show about an every day woman made over so that she looks up-to-date (heaven forbid she steps out on the street in jeans and a t-shirt) and "Say Yes to the Dress", a show about brides with $10,000 budgets choosing their gown at Karl Lagerfeld. When the commercials came on we switched to a channel where they gutted a bathroom and made a new one for only $2,000 (yeah right, 2,000 bucks my butt). Folks now that's a reality fantasy a whole new genre of television programming.

Big Bird good, 24 hour bad, me old.

ABC Wednesday - N

2008-10-21T20:45:00.012+02:00

N is for Navy...the US NavyThe US Navy was in New York City last week. The three men are looking out over New York City from the 86th floor of the Empire State Building.
All is well down below.

Lower Manhattan. Squint your eyes and see Chinatown, Little Italy, Greenwich Village, SOHO and Wall Street. At Battery Park, the very tip of Manhattan is where the East River and the Hudson River converge. The Hudson River is the one on the right hand side of Manhattan. If you squint once again the island in the Hudson you'll see the Statue of Liberty.

You'll find some other great N postings hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt at ABC Wednesday.

ABC Wednesday - M

2008-10-14T04:04:00.021+02:00

M is for MannequinsNobody but NOBODY does mannequins like the Palestinians. Really. I couldn't stop taking pictures of them. The babe above is wearing the black and white Palestinian kaffiyah as a shawl rather than as a headdress that men typically wear. She was a lone mannequin just hangin' in Hebron in the West Bank.
This group of handsome men were free standing (sort of) in the souk, the marketplace also in Hebron. Nice display but these mannequins were armless and their faces had seen much happier and better days. Notice the noose-like ropes around their necks helping them to stand up.
Ooo, lah, lah! This extensive display of undergarments was in one of the largest squares in the West Bank city of Nablus. Why so suggestive?? Islamic women who practise hijab, or veiling herself as part of religious practise of the Islamic dress code will wear a long robe like garment called an abayah or jilbab and a head scarf. Modesty, modesty, modesty. But underneath baby, anything goes.
These lovely women were in the souk of the Muslim Quarter in East Jerusalem. I thought I heard them break into One from A Chorus Line as I walked past them. There were one singular sensation!

While I didn't see any mannequins that were displaying a complete black veil headdress that allows only a woman's eyes to be seen, I did see a few women dressed in that way. Most women wore long sleeve floor length coats with headscarves. Although, the many young 'cosmopolitan' women wore headscarves tucked into tight sweaters, jeans and spike heals.

These heads were smiling at me in the souk in the Muslim Quarter as well.

I hope you enjoyed M this week...for more great ABC Wednesday posts click right here.

Life in the Big Burbs

2008-10-10T13:48:00.013+02:00

I'm really trying to weigh it out. Life in the big city, or life in the big suburb. Right now the scale is leaning heavily on life in the big city. Granted the city was Jerusalem compared to Fairfield County Connecticut but still there is something vibrant and quirky always going on in any city that, quite frankly, I am personally not finding here in the burbs. I look out and watch the leaves fall off of the trees.

Wait, a school bus just went by. OK, I'm back.

It's a beautiful time of year in New England. The harvest moon will be appearing soon and the leaves on the trees are beginning to show their splendid color and there is a snap in the air that makes you brew a hot cup of spice tea and curl up on the sofa. But that's the problem, curling up on the sofa.

What's there to blog about when you are curled up on the sofa? The hours can turn to weeks and months on the sofa and then your entire life has passed before you. But the tea is sure good and soothing.

Wait, an SUV just drove by going the other way.

In August I was happy to get back from Jerusalem to the burbs of Fairfield County. In fact, I couldn't wait to see my family and friends. To stick my mouth directly under the Dunkin' Donuts coffee pot was my fondest dream. Walking without military surrounding me and people decked out in their religious uniforms of all persuasions thrilled me to me to no end. There was a song in my heart getting into the bucket seats of my Saturn and driving, just because I could and had to.

Wait a squirrel just stopped on top of the New England stone fence in front of the house.

He picked something up. I thought there was going to be some action but he turned around and went back the other way. I guess squirreling away those acorns is serious business. Did I ever tell you that I once saw a white squirrel? Really. Pure as can be. That's another blog entry, in fact, that turned into a sermon two years ago.

I admit that it is thrilling to see a deer walk by and the six point buck that meandered through the backyard was beautiful. Relearning to enjoy a different sort of beauty has been my task in this last month. Hence, the lack of blog entries. Slowly however I'm making sense of this new yet very familiar life here in the burbs.

ABC Wednesday - L

2008-10-08T02:31:00.007+02:00

I can't believe that a whole week has passed and that it's time for an L post for ABC Wednesday.

L is for Lavender.

There is a Lavender farm on Cape Cod in Dennis, Massachusetts. Although we've passed the blooming season there were still a few hanger-oner's. It was a grey and misty day, the lavender plants were a silvery green. The lavender blossoms were quite lovely.

For many more ABC Wednesday L posts, click here! You won't be disappointed.

ABC Wednesday - K

2008-10-01T05:33:00.016+03:00

Kippahs, and lots of them.

Actually I think the plural of Kippah is Kippote, but why get technical now? In Israel you can find any kind of kippah or yarmulke that you can possibly dream of. Like watermelons? Try a red kippah with black seeds and a green border. Like the NY Giants or any other sports team? They've got it. Does Spiderman suit your fancy? Plain or fancy there is one for every personality under the sun.

A kippah is worn by Jewish men and women on the head for prayer, meals, or worship, anytime really. Some wear them forward practically to their eyebrows and some hang them off of the back of their head with a hairclip. Even bald guys were them! I always wanted to lift one off and see how it stayed on but I didn't have the chutzpah! One windy days kippah's sometimes are airborne and tumbling in the street.

At the Kotel (Western Wall or the Wailing Wall) you will always see men with a kippah on. Looks like the day I took this picture everyone was wearing white. The Kotel is the remaining wall of the 2nd Temple built around 19 BCE and destroyed in 70 CE. It derived it's name from people coming to pray and cry mourning the destruction of the Temple.
Today is the first day of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. To all of my Jewish friends I wish you a very good, plentiful and sweet new year.

L'Shanah Tovah

For more ABC Wednesday posts click here.

ABC Wednesday - J

2008-09-24T05:22:00.026+03:00

J is for a Jeep ride in the Judean Desert. It doesn't take much for the terrain to drastically change in Israel. One day some friends invited me to join them on a jeep ride into the desert. We started at the King David Hotel where they were staying and within 30 minutes we were outside of Jerusalem on a wild adventure into the unknown. We stopped at one point and our crazy driver pulled out a mat for us to sit on as he told us stories of the desert.Pretty quiet and desolate although we could hear birds chirping. Odd eh? But Israel is a grand crossroad for migrating birds.

The driver was friends with a Bedouin family who lived in the desert. We stopped at their tin huts and they were very hospitable towards us. We received a cup of hot tea and a lot of cheer even though we couldn't understand one another.

Their home.

This shepherd was crossing the road with his donkey and furry little charges

The Judean desert is filled with all sorts of life Just waiting for discovery.
If you follow this link you'll find lots of other wonderful ABC Wednesday J entries.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like....

2008-09-21T01:03:00.023+03:00

What?? It's beginning to look like Christmas on September 20. Wrong. Totally and undeniable WRONG.

Today at Kohl's I saw six fake Christmas trees adorned with shiny ornaments, at least 10 racks of all sorts of themed ornaments waiting for a happy Christian or at least Christmas celebrating home, Christmas stockings, wreaths and other stupid decorations. I was not a happy pastor!

This is the earliest that I've seen Christmas beginning to bud in the stores in the US. When I was a kid Thanksgiving heralded in the red and green glitz. When my kids were kids, you know what I mean, the merchandisers up'ped the kick off to Halloween. They had just about gotten rid of the leftover candy corn and Snickers on the Halloween sale table in the grocery stores before bringing out candy canes and ribbon candy.

But September 20 - BAH HUMBUG!!!

Last year, in Jerusalem I was starved for a little Christmas glitter. I mean STARVED. I would have been happy with some musak tunes like "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" or better yet Trans-Siberian Orchestra's pulsating and ever so nauseating rendition of "Carol of the Bells". A little flocking on the mannequins would have been nice or some red and green somethings or other in the windows.

But not in Israel where Chanukiah's trump. I have to admit, it was nice not to get caught up in the Ho Ho Ho frenzy. Finally I could concentrate on the meaning of Advent and Christmas and the quiet beauty of the land at that time of year. Still, none the less, I missed my family and our traditions, my friends, the getting ready, the church greening and the scriptures of Advent.

My Christmas famine was filled though when I went to Bethlehem on Christmas Eve. OK, so they overdo it in the West Bank in Manger Square with the party hats, the flashing star necklaces, cotton candy, the chintzy Christmas lights and a poster of Arafat posthumously wishing me a Peaceful Christmas. But at least it was something to mark the day. That's right DAY. Not the three month period of Christmas. It was never supposed to be like this I'm sure.

But I suppose that as long as the retail world is intertwined, no, overshadows Christ's birth we will welcome the Christmas season on September 20.

Does it have to be feast or famine?

Blueberrilicious

2008-09-20T03:18:00.008+03:00

The blueberry season is nearly finished in New Hampshire but we managed to pick over 5 pounds of absolutely delicious blueberries. The only thing better than fresh blueberries is a freshly baked blueberry pie. Stars are courtesy of my daughter Tina.

ABC Wednesday - I

2008-09-17T18:25:00.017+03:00

The INNS of New Hampshire in the Lakes Region of Lake Winnepesaukee. New England is dotted with Inns of all shapes, sizes, and amenities. On a recent weekend in New Hampshire I shot these photos of just a few of some of the Inns. We were a little early for the splendid fail foiliage that New England is so well known for. Oh well, another trip! The Inn at Mill Falls in Meredith, New Hampshire.

The Inn at Smith Cove in Gilford, New Hampshire.

Ames Farm Inn in West Alton, New Hampshire. All three Inns are accessible by boat on Lake Winnepesaukee.
This is Little Mark ISLAND. It is one of over 200 islands in Lake Winnepesauke. Little Mark is only 50 yards or so as the crow flies (that's New Hampshire talk for not far) from the shore. There is one house, one boathouse, hopefully one outhouse, and only one family who inhabit Little Mark Island seasonally.
And for your ICE CREAM needs you must drive to Sawyer's Dairy Bar. Best ice cream in the Lake region since the 1940's.

For other entries to ABC Wednesday click here!

Ho Hum

2008-09-12T18:14:00.016+03:00

I keep scratching my head and trying very hard to find life interesting since I've been back in the States. How could such mundane things seem funny or interesting to me when I was in Jerusalem but now that I'm back the same, or closely related activities seem dull and lackluster.

Take for instance walking. Each day I would walk at least an hour in Jerusalem to somewhere and someplace. I'd walk to get groceries, walk to the Old City to see a friend, or hightail it to a museum or lecture. Walking was essential. Here a walk has to be intentional and at best I walk out of the house and walk around the block a few times.

I don't pass anyone, don't see anyone. I see the same houses with their lawn jockeys and impatiens blooming. If I had seen lawn jockeys in Jerusalem I would have taken photos from all angles and perhaps would have thought up some cutsey blog entry. But really, who thinks lawn jockey's are interesting?

My dog enjoys them. He barks at them a stares them down and when they don't move he figures he has done their job and moves on growling like he has saved the neighborhood from menacing miniature metal people holding large rings.

At least one of us enjoys the walk.

Here's a completely unrelated photograph - it's not an alien spaceship although you might think it is by the eery colors and shape. It's a photo of a hot tub that I frequent. The water toy is new and casts colored light inside of the tub. Quite nice, quite nice.

ABC Wednesday - H

2008-09-09T23:44:00.020+03:00

Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to HARBOR Yard HOME of the Bridgeport Bluefish, Connecticut's local baseball club. HUNDREDS of people come to watch the Bluefish in HEART throbbing action. Here's HOMEPLATE before the game was ready to start. The Bluefish are HEATING up on the field.

Of course what's a baseball game without HOTDOGS. Park City's finest. Here's HANDSOME Chuck HOISTING one down now. Whoa girls, a little HEAVY on the condiments. But so HEAVENLY.

The opposing players from York just HANGING out. They were losing but giving it their last HARRAH.

HALLELUJAH A HOMERUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Go Bluefish

For more action on H go to ABC Wednesday and see what's HANGING around.

ABC Wednesday

2008-09-03T06:25:00.033+03:00

I've joined a new blog group, ABC Wednesday. Each Wednesday photos, poetry, artwork, what have you is posted that features a letter in the alphabet. This week's letter...G. You can see lot's more g's if you follow the link here.

G is for...Girls, Gates and the Galilee
These three girls were in the city of Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh, India. All of the people throughout India loved to have their photographs taken.

This little sweetie was sitting on a street curb in Katmandu, Nepal. She was sitting alongside another little girl then, they were sitting on my lap!

These girls begged me to take their picture on the same street in Katmandu.

This beautiful girl was at a sidewalk school in Hyderbad, India. These schools were set up by Friends of Christ in India a mission outreach of Greenfield Hill Congregational Church in Fairfield, CT. The families are pavement dwellers and the parents are rag pickers. Often the children are sent out to work at a very young age. The school is designed to combat child labor and give the children an education.

This young girl lives in Darajat, a Bedouin village in the Negev. I spent a week with a friend living with a host family learning Arabic.

I found this girl in the town of Nuewiba in the Sinai.

And this girl was selling jewelry.

I've just moved back from a year in Jerusalem. Here are a few shots of the GATES surrounding the Old City. This one is New GATE.

Here's Jaffe GATE.

and GOLDEN GATE.

Damascus GATE.

And here we have Dung GATE which leads to the Kotel.

Finally, the sun rises over the Sea of Galilee.

Ramadan

2008-09-02T04:41:00.007+03:00

At sundown last night the Muslim observance of Ramadan began. It is the 9th month of the Islamic lunar calendar. While it is fixed on the lunar calendar it varies from year to year on the Gregorian calendar. Muslims are to fast from food, drink, and sex in great efforts to be pious. It is also the month in which Allah revealed the Holy Quran as a guide to the prophet Muhammad.

The above photo is of the Dome of the Rock on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. The Temple Mount or Haram al-Sharif in Arabic was built in 691 CE and enlarged by Herod the Great. It is built on the site of the second Jewish Temple which was destroyed in 70 CE.

For my Muslim friends in Jerusalem, I'm not sure what the correct greeting is but, may Allah rain peace upon you during Ramadan.

AHhhhh

2008-08-26T16:55:00.004+03:00

Lock In..at the Holy Sepulchre Part 5

2008-08-25T05:35:00.012+03:00

From an emotional stop at Golgotha I came down to the first floor once again right inside of the front doors. The Stone of the Anointing rests there and is well worn from the hands of many a pilgrim and pleasantly oiled with oil that they have poured on this stone. According to tradition is here that Jesus’ body was laid when he was taken down from the cross. Sunset was rapidly approaching which would begin the Jewish Sabbath. Joseph and Nicodemus quickly prepared his body for burial by anointing him with precious oils and wrapping his body in linen.

Here too I rested in front of the stone on my knees, my forehead upon the stone. I ran my hands over the stone soaking up what oils from the day that I could. I placed my fabric bookmark on the corner of the stone so that it could also soak up the oil that had collected in that area. Even now and then the aroma of the sweet oil still permeates my bookmark and upon the pages of the Bible where I had placed it.
Above the stone are hanging lanterns which are eternally lit and maintained by the sister churches of the Holy Sepulchre. There is a newer mosaic behind the stone which depicts the scene of Jesus’ body being taken down and anointed. The mosaic is too large to capture and to do it justice by camera. I focused on the three crying angels above the entire mosaic and upon Mary and Jesus’ faces. To me they tell the story. This entire area is a beautifully colored from the mosaic and the natural lighting from the outside.
By now it was approximately 11:30 pm. It was time to go to the tomb. I sat down outside of the edicule, the Chapel built over the tomb of Jesus. There was a woman inside of the tomb and a nun sitting outside of it and in front of it like me. I looked at its walls adorned with icons, the hanging lanterns and candles. It is laden with gold and marble. It was peaceful but had an energy that I can’t quite describe. Maybe it was leftover energy from all of the people who had patiently waited their turn to go in. Or maybe it was just an energy emanating from Christ’s resurrection. I could feel a cool breeze light upon my face, it felt so good.

After some time I got up and walked up to the tomb, paused, and then went inside. I left all of my belongings behind me. The antechamber is a small area with an altar in the middle which is where the angel kept vigil. It is called the Chapel of the Holy Angel. There is not one part of the crucifixion and resurrection story that is left un-memorialized. In fact in all of the Holy Land every aspect of Jesus’ narrative is celebrated. And, that’s good because each part of the story speaks to each one of us in many varied ways.

According to tradition it was the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea where Jesus was laid. The other woman in the tomb was praying out loud but in a hushed; she was speaking Greek. She prayed and prayed every now and then moving herself into a different position. We acknowledged one another with a bow of the head and a slight smile and then we adjusted for each other’s space.

My goal was to stay there at least, if not longer, until midnight. My mother died at midnight in March of 1986 which happened to be the midnight between Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday. At my former church I always sat vigil in our chapel from midnight until 1:00 am in honor of my mother. It didn’t matter the exact day, what was important for me was the time, midnight between Saturday and Easter.

I knelt for a while and then sat back inside of the tomb. This was a luxury. If you have been there you will know that the Greek priest is a pretty tight gatekeeper and will usher people in and out quickly who have waited so long to enter the tomb. Now, I had the tomb to myself (almost!) for as long as I wanted. No Greek priest was in sight! I sat back against the wall and thought about my mother and prayed for her and to her. I prayed for my father as well who twenty years earlier had also passed away. I began to doze off in the airless and candle lit tomb listening to the quiet prayers of the other woman and gazing upon the icon of Jesus lying on the stone in the tomb. Then, like Jesus calling to Lazarus, “Lazarus come out” it was time for me to also get up and come out. So I listened to what was in my heart and mind and I came out. I was healed from the experience and perhaps even brought back to life. It was 12:30 am.
The Holy Sepulchre comes alive with bells and sensors by the Greeks, Armenians, Coptics and Latins. From then until 5:00 am the Church was never silent. The Greeks celebrated mass for over an hour at 2:00 am and then at 4:00 am the Armenians also celebrated mass. It was beautiful to see and even more lovely to sit back, close my eyes and to listen to the sound. I left the Church after it had gotten light around 5:30 am. I was tired, not feeling well and completely satisfied with my experience in the Holy Sepulchre. It was an extraordinary way to say goodbye to Jerusalem.

Lock In..at the Holy Sepulchre Part 4

2008-08-20T14:32:00.013+03:00

After reflecting upon Mary’s tears and the sadness displayed in her eyes I walked slowly to Golgotha. Although the two are perhaps only two feet apart from one another I had never had the freedom to look up close or stand as long as I wanted in front of Golgotha. I realized the advantage of my solitariness at this place and took each step with care and prayer.

The altar area is so busy whether you’re alone or with hundreds of other people. It’s busy with glitz and gold, silver and angels, lanterns, icons and plexi-glass covered rock which is the rock of Golgotha where Jesus’ cross was anchored when it was raised. Inside of the altar there is a small hole that you can place your hand and touch the rock. This is what people stand in line for. It has sort of an X marks the area feel to it. (not the rock but the concept) I remember the first time that I saw Golgotha. It was not what I had expected at all, in fact my non-Christian friends who were with me kept looking intently at me waiting for me to have some sort of spiritual experience. Nada, none, nothing. I said to them, “this is so not my understanding of Jesus’ crucifixion”. What I didn’t realize then as I do now that this demonstration of piety, devotion, and reverence is the Orthodox Christians expression of sorrow and thanksgiving.
Like everything else that has changed for me in Jerusalem, I now understand the importance and significance of iconic representation of Jesus’ life. My attitude has changed as well. Icons are meant to transport you from the world of the mundane and material to the spiritual. There is something very mystical about them and icons have been venerated throughout the history of Christianity. I let my Protestant biases against all of this representation go. Poof! It felt good and less like I had to internalize and carry this imagery within me. I didn’t have to worry, all I had to do was to gaze upon this demonstration of love and be transported back in time.

I stood and looked so closely at the images and at the jewels and flowers that adorn them. There are small frescoes of angel heads with wings fluttering all around.

After looking closely at all there was to see on Golgotha I kneeled down in front of the cross on the marble mosaic floor. It was not long before I leaned forward and rested my forehead too on the cool mosaic. I stayed in that position for some time.

A Side Trip

2008-08-19T04:49:00.004+03:00

This photo was taken at the New Haven Lawn Club in New Haven, Connecticut

Lock In..at the Holy Sepulchre - Part 3

2008-08-14T04:04:00.022+03:00

The Church is mine but I couldn’t decide where to go in the cavernous sanctuary.So I decided to start at the beginning of the end, the crucifixion of Jesus. I climbed the steps that I had climbed so often before. This time was different though. In the past I’d get in line waiting my turn to go up the stairs with the rest of the pilgrims. It’s difficult to be in a line of people. You need to hold on to the metal banister to pull yourself up and then at best, you climb at other people’s pace. The steps are not a height that is comfortable to climb; they’re taller than most so it is an arduous trip up the stairway.

You place each foot in a worn down footprint valley in the step and wait your turn to move up the staircase. You dare not stop because there are people in back of you. However this time I went slowly and prayerful. I wanted to be somewhere in the church and not just in this luminal space of neither here nor there. I made the climb with both intimidation and determination because I was unsure of my decision to face the night but resolved to push beyond my comfort level and go for it.

As I reached the top of the staircase I heard a familiar sound, one that I came to know and love and long for as I moved back home but it seemed a little out of place hearing it while I was in the Holy Sepulchre. It was the muezzin calling Muslims to prayer. I went to a small window in the Chapel of the Nailing of the Cross to listen to the call that was wafting in from The Mosque of Omar. The mosque sits across from the Exterior Courtyard and from the doors of the Holy Sepulchre. Funny, I’ve never noticed that little window before. But then again, I’ve never had 8 hours to be alone in the Holy Sepulchre and although during the day inside of the Church it was never noisy, in the shear silence now I could hear the sounds from the outside.
I sat down on a stone bench in the first Chapel. Tradition says that it is here Jesus was nailed to the cross. I examined the altar and then the mosaic above the altar. While I’ve stood in line in front of the altar many times and the mosaic to get to the rock of Golgotha, I had never took the time to really look at the mosaic. Jesus is nailed to and laying on the cross which has not yet been raised. Mary is standing over him and another woman is bending down next to him in tears. The women at the cross is not an unusual depiction, for it was the women who stood by and watched and it was the women who took Jesus’ body off of the cross and anointed him with oil after he had died.

However there was another person in the mosaic that I had never really paid much attention to. Maybe I had never even looked at or noticed him. It was that of a man scantily clothed with a turban scarf on his head. Sitting down on a rock at the head of Jesus was one of Herod’s executioners, the crucifier – the one who hammered the nails into Jesus’ feet and hands. He holds nails in one of his hands and the mallet is in the other. He looked outwards with a sad and distant look. For the next hour I read the accounts of Jesus’ crucifixion from the Gospels glancing at the crucifier. What could have been in his mind at that moment? Was his heart so hardened that he could actually and intentionally pierce flesh and bones with a hammer and a few nails?

So often on Good Friday we are asked to think about the times in our lives when we drove the nails in Jesus’ hands. How have our sins and shortcomings, our denial and betrayal contributed to the crucifixion? Tough questions. I sat in the Chapel of the Nailing of the Cross for an hour or so thinking crying and praying.

I’m not sure what begged me onward but I moved to Golgotha from the Chapel of the Nails stopping at a small altar with a life size statue of Mary; aptly named Our Lady of Sorrow because she looked as if she were crying. She is inside of glass casing but somehow people have left jewelry for her. Golden rings and necklaces, watches and bracelets are around the base, a few necklaces were placed on her praying hands.
This year I have come to understand more fully the devotion of the Orthodox and Latin churches and for the adoration of Mary. I think the Protestant church has lost out by not revering her more and incorporating her into the narrative. The look on her face was indeed sorrowful; her eyes were glassy and underneath her eyes appeared damp. To me she looked as if she was crying. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a child but her face gave me a good indication of the indescribable pain. I rested my elbows upon the altar and watched her for a good long time.

Lock In..at the Holy Sepulchre - Part 2

2008-08-11T00:30:00.012+03:00

I arrived a little early at the Holy Sepulchre before the doors were to be closed for the night. You could tell that it had been another busy day because the tourist energy that engulfs the sanctuary was beginning to wane. There were still some people spread throughout the holy place adorning the altars and chapels. Some were sitting silently with their eyes closed in prayer. Some were kneeling down with their Bibles in hand, reading for a moment and then glancing up to reflect upon the Word.

I walked around visiting each altar and side chapel knowing that some of them I would become very familiar with in the next 8 hours. I tried to envision were I would spend most of my time but then that seemed too planned, too controlled for me. I decided to go wherever the ruach, the breath and spirit of God would blow me. The priests were cleaning up for the day, the candelabras were scraped of the wax that had built up during the day and the taper boxes were replenished ready for the next. The day was winding down.
There is an eerie organ sound that echoes throughout the Holy Sepulchre. The organist is tuning the massive pipe organ one note at a time. I wasn’t sure if this was part of what happens each night or if I just happened to choose this night when the organ was in need. You could not see the sunlight any longer through the rotunda over the Sepulchre, Christ’s tomb. The sun had set and the sanctuary was dimmed.

Then, I hear a loud knock; the priest raised the doorknocker and let it fall on the wood of the front doors of the Holy Entrance. It reverberated throughout the stone walls and columned halls. It is 8:30 pm and one of the large forbidding doors is closed. People leave for the day and walk out. They take a moment to turn around and make the sign of the cross upon their forehead, heart and shoulders. The Exterior Courtyard outside in front of the doors is lit with dim artificial light and empty. What an unusual site that is to see the Courtyard void of pilgrims and picture takers, police and priests.

It’s so warm; I wondered how I was ever going to go the night with long sleeves and a shawl over my head. So I sat quietly on a wooden bench by the Holy Entrance hoping to catch the evening Jerusalem breeze that every evening cools down and relieves the heated stone. I thought about the thousands of people, of all faiths, who have crossed this particular threshold. I thought about the keeper of the keys, a Palestinian Muslim man who is part of the Nuseibh family who, since 1520 CE, under an order of Sultan Suleiman, has held the keys to the Holy Sepulchre. Several times I sat on that same bench to talk with him about the Sepulchre. He showed me places in the Holy sanctuary that not many people get to see. He recognizes me now when I go to visit. I thought, these are things that I’m going to miss about Jerusalem.

I can hear other Church bells ringing in the distance, another day has ceased and the stores and the streets of the Old City are closed up for the night. I can still see the sky outside and the stars have emerged, a planet is visible, it could have Venus or Mars maybe even Jupiter.

At 8:50 pm the knocker at the Holy Entrance bangs again loudly and the lights are turned out save for the remaining lanterns that are perpetually lit. The one remaining door is partially closed with only a foot of ‘escaping room’. Don’t think for a minute that I didn’t consider bolting, it was getting spooky and I wondered what in the world I had committed to now, why did I ever think this was a good idea. The priests who are on night watch gather at the door, there are three Armenians – one of them my friend, three Franciscans, and one Greek priest.

At 9:00 pm the door is shut and a loud imposing slam echoes throughout the Church. The sound of the latch being closed and locked from the outside was even echoing louder in my head. The small little door inside of the larger door is opened and the ladder that is used to reach the lock on the outside is now inside. The priests disburse except Fr. E who comes to me. No one will be back until 5:00 am when the small door is opened and the ladder is retrieved by Mr. Nuseibh. I am locked in the Holy Sepulchre and Fr. E said, ‘The Church is yours”.

More to come

Lock In..at the Holy Sepulchre

2008-08-10T03:55:00.004+03:00

One of the dearer friends that I made this past year is an Armenian priest. He has been in Jerusalem for the past 15 years and has served in the Armenian Orthodox Patriarchate of St. James as Seminary Dean and as an Archimandrite. Fr. E and I were classmates at Hebrew University. In one of our first conversations over tea he mentioned that sometimes people choose to spend the night in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. He says that he often does when he is going to travel back to Armenia. The Armenian Patriarchate is one of the three major guardians of the Christian Holy Sites in the Holy Land and he knows the Church of the Holy Sepulchre intimately. The Holy Sepulchre houses Golgotha and the Tomb of Jesus Christ.

Cha-ching! My mind began to work overtime. Spend the night…in the Holy Sepulchre…the holiest place in all of Christendom? Wouldn’t it be a little spooky? Do they keep the lights on? What if I get tired? Can I sleep? Can I take pictures? Is there a bathroom? For the next few months as our friendship developed I kept entertaining the thought but then quickly changed the subject in my mind. It was sort of like watching a scary movie with your hands over your eyes but your figures spread apart so that you can see. I wanted to be there but then again I didn’t, after all, I’m not orthodox. And the Holy Sepulchre is a big place.

There are some experiences that, if we don’t take advantage of them, we will regret later in life. Sitting vigil in the Holy Sepulchre is one of them. As my sojourn in Jerusalem came to an end I told Fr. E that I wanted to stay the night. Being one of the calmest people that I know, he said, “OK. That is good. I’m on duty that night so I’ll be there with you.” I could bring my Bible and a journal, “don’t forget your camera” he said. But there is one concession that I had to make. Fr. E asked me to wear a long skirt or dress, cover my arms, and don a head covering. And so on July 29, an unusually hot night in Jerusalem, and feeling a little silly with a head shawl on, I spent the night inside of the Holy Sepulchre.

After the ceremonial closing of the doors Fr. E came to me and said, “The church is yours”. The priests disappeared and I was left with only two other women for a night of reflection and prayer. The next few blog entries will reflect upon my night.

The photo above was taken a few weeks before I spent the night. It shows the doors to the Holy Sepulchre from the outside plaza. For those of you who have been there, you'll notice that tourists and pilgrims have retreated for the night.

Nablus - Part 2

2008-08-05T14:49:00.013+03:00

Balata Refugee Camp is located within the Municipality of Nablus in the West Bank. A few days ago I posted an entry and photographs on Nablus. Today's entry will give you some insight on Balata. It is the largest of all of the Palestinian refugee camps within the West Bank with over 21,000 residents. It was established in 1950 in 252 dunums of land. It is overcrowded with unemployment running about 80%. The major problems in Balata is sewage, water, overcrowding and privacy. Buildings are situated so close together that in some areas the 'street's are no more than 2 1/2 feet in width. For those who live in the central areas of the camp seeing sunlight is far from a reality. Military aggression is high often during the night.

Despite the conditions there are several healthy organizations and activities that the Camp council have initiated such as a Youth Theatre, a Dabke dance troupe that has travelled internationally, children's art workshops, a Woman's Internet center, and a Committee for the Rehabilitation for the Disabled. We visited one of the schools that was holding summer camp and then walked in the camp. Vestiges of UNWRA, United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees

Steps up to a home.

Walking through the streets A woman getting some air

This little cutie was sitting on the step as we turned a corner

Culture Acuteness

2008-08-03T15:52:00.003+03:00

I just entered the Twilight Zone. Or, maybe I left the Twilight Zone. Today is Sunday, or maybe Monday, I’m not sure. I look around an unfamiliar room and see my belongings and yet now my belongings seem out of place and unfamiliar to me. So it goes. I’ve arrived back in the United States and in particular in Connecticut, my home.

“Culture shock” is a phrase meaning that you’ve arrived in a new place so different from your reality that your entire body and mind are zapped, frozen, frightened, distressed because you are in a new culture. Well, I’m neither shocked or frozen or any of that. I prefer to think that I’m in “Culture Acuteness”. There are stark differences between Connecticut and Jerusalem. Lush and green not dry and brown. Thunder and lightning and not turquoise, sunny blue skies. Red brick and clapboard homes not Jerusalem stone apartments. Squirrels, not cats. And glorious lightening bugs. I’ve arrived home.

Totto, I knew that I wasn’t in Israel and the West Bank any longer when I was being driven by Connecticut Limo from JFK airport to Connecticut. There were three passengers including me. Tired and weary, all strangers we sat patiently as the driver readied himself to deliver us to our destinations. This was his maiden voyage. How do I know? First off he had directions hand written on notebook paper. Secondly, he smiled and asked if everyone was ok and ready to go. For a New Yorker that’s a little unusual. I wanted to yell, just get this blasted van moving I’ve been in transit almost 24 hours with the time change. But I didn’t. I wanted to make his first trip memorable.

I had glanced at his name tag as he turned around and smiled and his name was Nabil Akbar. To me he didn’t quite look Arab perhaps Indian. Shame. Who me? Racial profiling? Anyway, I knew that he was a Muslim because of the miniature Quran hanging from his rear view mirror like fuzzy dice. Our trip began. I was enjoying the beautiful green trees so full and abundant. I was thrilled to see the New York sky line from the Whitestone Bridge. I even enjoyed sitting in traffic because I could read the signs, they were in English! Then we approached the toll booth in Westchester.

We waited our turn in a lane and as we neared the booth, my stomach began to tighten. I thought, OMG, this guy is obviously going to delay my homecoming. We’re going to have to get out of the van, they’ll have to search the trunk, maybe even open our suitcases. He’ll have to show his ID card and we’ll have to pull out our passport. Really. I didn’t want to go through the humiliation for any of us in the van.

Nabil rolled the window down. He passed money to the toll taker. She took it without looking at him and we were on our way. WHAT????? She didn’t even look him directly in the eye. A soldier didn’t lean over with his rifle on his back and glare in at us. As we pulled away there were no soldiers standing there seeing us off. You see, we had simply passed through a toll booth and not a checkpoint. I was not suspect nor was the driver. I relaxed as did the muscles in my stomach, there’s no place like home.

I have moved back to the States now and will be searching for a Pastorate in the United Church of Christ. My sabbatical is nearly over but my thoughts and reflections are not. In fact, they will inform my life and ministry as long as my memory serves me. I still have stories to tell and photographs to post so I hope that you will continue to check in with me “From a Thin Place”. The next post in a day or two will be Nablus – Part 2, the Balata Refugee Camp.

God be with you till we meet again!

Nablus - Part 1

2008-07-31T10:43:00.048+03:00

Nablus (Shechem) is a city in the northern part of the West Bank, approximately 39 miles from Jerusalem. It's an old, old city founded in 72 CE by Vespasian. While the history of the city is quite interesting and varied I'm not going to go to much in it here. Biblically, this is the place where Jesus met the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. Today the population is predominately Muslim however there are Christians and Samaritans still living there. Nablus is under Palestinian civil control with Israel controlling the entrances and exists to the city. This entry on Nablus will be in two parts. Today you'll see the city and cultural aspects. The following entry will be of Balata Refugee Camp. Main city circle

The logo to the Nablus soap factory. Nablus is very famous for its olive oil soap. At one point in time there were over 400 factories but today there are very few left. They are family owned.

A vat of liquid olive oil soap

Pouring the hot soap

Scoring the soap and putting on the logo

Scored soap stacked and ready for packaging

Palestinians have an unusual way of using manniquins

Through the alleys of the old city

See what I mean

These two men wanted so badly to talk with us. It is unusual to see non-Palestinians in Nablus. Their English was much better than my Arabic. We could communicate with laughter.

These two young men wanted very badly to have their picture taken. I obliged. They are standing in front of a memorial.

Every guide has his or her own favorite shops to visit. This was a spice and coffee shop. Arabs are known for their incredible hospitality. We sat down and had arabic coffee before cutting any deals.

Freshly roasted coffee being ground. I bought some to bring home...now if I only had the knack for cooking the coffee.

Umm, smell the aroma

Al Karreoun is one of the oldest neighborhoods in Nablus

We stopped at a functioning Turkish bath. This is the waiting room where we sat and drank coffee. The clients come and relax beforehand and smoke argilla aka water pipes. The tobacco is flavored and delicious

Inside the bath....the women get Tuesday afternoon other than that the rest of the time is for men. Hey-it's the Middle East, what can I say?

One of the bath attendants waiting for business

Attendants smoking argilla

The Samaritan Woman at the Well Icon. This was inside the Greek Orthodox Church built over the well. I do not have a picture of the well because photos were not allowed. We drank from the well, the living water!

The apse of the Church. For an orthodox church it was very modern with a lot of light streaming in.

Refugee Camps

2008-07-29T07:37:00.007+03:00

In the past few weeks I have visited several Palestinian refugee camps in the cities of Ramallah, Nablus and Hebron. I'll be posting photographs over the next few days of each camp and photos in and about their respective cities.

Ramallah

2008-07-28T19:00:00.041+03:00

There are two refugee camps within the radius of Ramallah. The first one shown here is Kalandia Camp. Established in 1949 on 353 dunums of land. One dunum is approximately 1,000 square meters or 10,767 square feet. Kalandia is in zone C, full Israeli control. There are three zones within the West Bank: zone A which is full Palestinian control, zone B which is Palestinian civil control and Israeli military control and zone C, full Israeli control.

Closures imposed on the West Bank have made the socio-economic conditions worsen. Unemployment is high and there is deterioration of the buildings. Camp residents run their own activities and UNRWA helps to sponsor a Women's Culture Center, Rehabilitation Center, Youth activities. There are several Palestinian NGO's active in the West Bank. UNWRA is the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Relief. UNWRA was set up in 1949 under the UN General Assembly resolution 302. Although UNWRA has scaled back its work it is still visible today. The population in Kalandia Camp is 10,759. Schools and summer camps for youth are active in the camp providing services. Girls learning the debka, a traditional Palestinian dance.

Basketball summer camp for girls.

A typical street in Kalandia.

School's out for summer! Children loved to have their photos taken.

Locally grown honey. Do you grow honey? Or keep bees??

Al Amari camp was started also in 1949 on 90 dunums of land. The refugees lived in tents for the first 8 years and then in 1957 the tents were replaced with cement block buildings. In 1995 it came under full Palestinian control-zone A.

Typical is the artwork graffiti spray painted on the walls. They often depict the Palestinian flag or faces. Here there are cartoon characters.

A typical street in Al Amari

This boy was painted up for the day. Here his is sipping fresh juice.

Electrical wiring up to code??? This young man was with our group as a representative of Al Amari. - He's working the beard!

After the camp visits we went to the tomb of Arafat. These are the two guards who were standing guard at the tomb. Like those guys at Arlington, they neither smiled nor talked nor moved.

I forget the name of these guys and the name of the drink that they sell. It's a sweetened cool drink.

The big square in Ramallah.

The Holy City

2008-07-27T23:30:00.007+03:00

It’s so funny how things come back to bite you in the derriere – NOT! Every year for Palm Sunday the Music Director of my former congregation, in cooperation with the choir and one of the soloist would sing a piece that I disliked, ALOT. The piece, The Holy City by Stephen Adams and Richard Crooks was loved by many congregants and even requested! In addition to the palms waving in the air The Holy City was a staple at our Palm Sunday services.

To me it sounded schmaltzy, calliope-ish, and old fashioned. When it began I no longer saw the soloist in his fine red choir robe but standing there with a handlebar mustache and red stripped vest belting out or maybe even bleating the refrain “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lift up your gates and sing, Hosanna through the ages, Hosanna to your King.” When the piece began I would look at my colleague and very discreetly roll my eyes up into my head.

Well, I got bit tonight here in that Holy City, Jerusalem. It was, as usual, a stunning evening in Jerusalem. The heat of the day dissipated and the cool breeze set in. A few stars popped out in the evening sky as we sat in the Tomb of the Kings in East Jerusalem. The history of the Tomb goes back to 45 CE when the Queen of Mesopotamia fell in love with Jerusalem and decided that it was here she wanted to bury her son. The tombs were cut into the rock and included a cave with a decorated façade. We sat surrounded by the high walls of the tombs which served as a memorial structure used for ceremonies. And it is here that the Palestine Youth Orchestra gave a beautiful concert as part of the Jerusalem Festival 08.

The Palestine Youth Orchestra brings together Palestinian musicians from around the world comprised of 50 young people residing in Palestine, Jordan, Syria, the USA and Europe. This was the first year in their five year history that they were able to perform in their homeland due to restrictions on entry. The first half of the program included excerpts from Aram Khachaturian’s Gayane Ballet Suite No 2 and 3. Everyone got fired up when they began to play Sabre Dance from the Suite.

The second half of the program featured Palestinian orchestral music celebrating Jerusalem. The three female vocalists were of opera caliber. Their voices blended so beautifully with the orchestra that I got chills. All of the pieces were sung in Arabic except for one song. You guessed it, The Holy City.

OK, it got to me. I admit it. I guess sometimes you’ve just ‘got to be there’ to understand. I have a whole new appreciation for this song because I can see and understand and picture in my mind’s eye the gates rising and the people singing Hosanna to our King. You can listen to an excerpt if you aren’t familiar with the piece. It still sounds like it needs a calliope accompaniment but not so much now anymore. Now I understand the power of the words and the grand, imposing sound of the notes.

Excuse me now while I go to bandage a festering wound.

& Things!

2008-07-23T19:55:00.012+03:00

Places!

2008-07-21T07:46:00.014+03:00

People!

2008-07-19T22:22:00.022+03:00

Gates of the Old City

2008-07-14T21:00:00.042+03:00

The Old City of Jerusalem is surrounded by an ancient city wall. During Biblical times the city was fortified with a strong wall as well. Today the wall that surrounds the Old City was built during the 16th Century Ottoman Empire by Suleiman the Magnificent, one of the greatest of Turkish Sultans. It dates around 1538 CE.

This city wall has seen religious and political battles and has changed hands many times over the hundreds of years. And yet, it still stand as witness to the strength of its people and as a home to the pilgrims who walk within.

Today the wall surrounding the Old City has eight notable gates where people enter and exit the Old City. New Gate

New Gate was built in 1887 for a visit of the German Emperor Wilhelm II. It provides access to the Christian Quarter of the Old City. In 1948 Jordan captured East Jerusalem and the gate was sealed. It was reopened after the 1967 war when Israel captured the city.

Damascus Gate
Heading northeast from New Gate you come upon Damascus Gate. It is known by Arabs as the "Gate of the Column" because of tall pillars which stood during the Roman and Byzantine period. It was built around 1537 by the Ottoman Emperor Suleiman the Magnificent and today is one of the busiest and grandest gates into the Muslim Quarter of the Old City.

Zion Gate
This gate was built in 1540 for Suleiman and leads to the Armenian and Jewish Quarters of the Old City. It provides access to Mount Zion just outside of the Old City. The pock marks in the wall are where bullets were shot during the Arab-Israeli battle in the War of Independence of 1948. It's being preserved today which is why it is guarded by scaffolding.St. Stephen's Gate or Lion's Gate
It is believed that the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen, was stoned just outside of the gate. It is also here that the Via Dolorosa begins, the way of the cross, that commemorate the final journey of Jesus to the cross. Each year thousands of pilgrims walk the Via Dolorosa offering prayers and recounting Jesus' final days. The gate is adorned with four lions placed there by Suleiman in 1538.

Jaffa Gate

Jaffa Gate is the only gate on the western side of the Old City. Its named Jaffa because the road that runs from the Old City leads to the ancient port city of Jaffa. Part of the city wall was torn down in 1898 and the crusader moat was filled for the visit of Kaiser Wilhelm II. It is also where the English General Allenby made his entrance in 1917.
Golden Gate
The Golden Gate was built approximately 640 CE and is one of the original Herodian city gates. In Jewish tradition the Messiah will enter Jerusalem through this gate, which is why it is said to the the reason why the Muslims sealed the gate in the 7th century.

Herod's Gate

It was the Northern wall that the Crusader army breached in 1099 to capture Jerusalem from the Muslims. This is one of the smaller gates of the Old City but none the less used by merchants selling fresh fruit.

Dung Gate

The naming of this gate goes back to Omar's conquest of Jerusalem in 638 CE when trash was cleared out of the street through this gate. Today this is the city gate that one enters when wanting to visit the Kotel (wailing wall).

I'm sure there is plenty more history about these gates as they have seen conquers and the conquered, religious and secular, the rich and the poor. The Old City is one of my favorite places to be because it is still as passionate today as it was in Herod's time or Suleiman the Magnificent.

Sounding Jerusalem

2008-07-11T08:47:00.022+03:00

It's summertime in Jerusalem and there are film festivals, dance troupes, music festivals, art shows and markets in abundance. Recently I attended a Chamber Music Festival called Sounding Jerusalem sponsored by the Austrian Music Encounter. They say, "Sounding Jerusalem is a concert series for the whole region of Jerusalem. It is our faithful dream to encourage people from all backgrounds and ages living in this area to join our concerts, to share their thoughts, visions and feelings with us and to become members of our sounding community." "During three weeks, about 75 excellent artists from all over the world will perform on the roofs and in churches of the Old City, beautiful Palestinian villages as well as in historic settings in West Jerusalem."One of the concerts was held at my church, the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in the Old City. The concert, Sweet Viennese Dreams, was beautiful. Serenade no. 13 in G Major from Eine kleine Nachtmusik, Hayden's String Quartet The Dream in F Major, and Mozart's, String Quartet in A Major were the pieces. Above we are gathering on the veranda of Redeemer. The concert was in the courtyard below.
The final night of Sounding Jerusalem was to be an extraordinary event. All of the ensembles were to play from some of rooftops of the Old City where you could hear them all sounding from one rooftop to the other as the sun set. Our community gathered for dinner on the veranda before we went to the rooftop.

On top of Redeemer and the Old City markets - settling in.

We sat overlooking Haram esh-Sharif and the Mount of Olives.

Dusk in the Old City. To the left are the green lights of the Mosque of Omar. In the center are the two domes that are the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and to the right is the tower of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer.

Moonrise over Jerusalem.

Good night Jerusalem

Summertime

2008-07-07T21:05:00.005+03:00

I can’t tell you when spring slid into summer. But summer is here in Jerusalem. I realized this when I was at the office of the Lutheran World Federation on the crest of the Mount of Olives. I sat in the photo archiving office where I’ve been doing some work. One side of the office opens up to an orchard of olive trees and grape vines that overlook the village of At-Tur in crowded East Jerusalem. And if you look to the west down beyond the Kidron Valley you can see the Old City with Haram esh-Sharif, the Temple Mount glistening brightly making its mark upon the Holy City. I had the front and the back doors of the office open; the ceiling fan was whirling on high speed but it was barely audible. It just gently moved the air from here to there and back again.

I needed a break from the computer so I sat back and averted my gaze outside to give my eyes a rest. The branches and leaves of the trees were motionless and the air was a stagnant pool of haze. The sun’s rays were uncompromising as they have been since early April. The ground is parched and the grass, what there is of it, is a dried brown. I thought, boy, another hot day in Jerusalem. Sometimes the days seem to melt right in to the other because the weather is so predictable. Just then though the familiar sound of lazy crickets broke through sluggish air and then I realized that it was summer.

Thank goodness for God signals. Without them how would we be alerted to the passage of time and to the rhythm of life around us? There are other God signals for us to behold too. Right now the fruit of the fig tree, the pomegranate and the olive trees and the grape vines are in their youth. It should be a nice harvest this fall.

Pomegranates, Grapes, Figs and Olives

Land's End

2008-07-03T22:36:00.010+03:00

Footsteps in the Sand

One night I dreamed a dream.I was walking along the beach with my Lord. Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to me and one to my Lord.

When the last scene of my life shot before me I looked back at the footprints in the sand. There was only one set of footprints. I realized that this was at the lowest and saddest times of my life. This always bothered me and I questioned the Lord about my dilemma.

"Lord, You told me when I decided to follow You, You would walk and talk with me all the way. But I'm aware that during the most troublesome times of my life there is only one set of footprints. I just don't understand why, when I need You most, You leave me."

He whispered, "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you, never, ever, during your trials and testings. When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you."

Photos of the Red Sea, South Sinai, Egypt

The Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of a Jerusalem Summer

2008-07-01T08:04:00.006+03:00

As long as the earth endures,

seedtime and harvest, cold and heat,

summer and winter, day and night,

shall not cease.

Genesis 8:22

Forget the Bible...Today, We Ride

2008-06-28T10:11:00.033+03:00

While my son and his friend visited the Holy Land we took a few days off of our 'heavy' sightseeing schedule to visit the Sinai. When I asked my sons and their girlfriends what they wanted to do when the came to visit, Dan said very simply, "I want to ride a camel in the desert!" We did a whole lot more than that.When I first visited the Sinai I stayed in Taba which is just over the border. Realizing that we had to drive a distance to get to St. Catherines and Mt. Sinai this time we stayed in Dahab. In Arabic the name Dahab means gold. The beaches were golden and wonderful. Dahab is about halfway down the Sinai Peninsula between Taba and Sharm El Sheikh.

Why leave the resort pool.... ...for this?? I know, it's crazy!

Brandi stargazing on the beach. But enough stargazing. We donned our helmets and jumped on our ATV's and headed down the coast to the lagoon for some snorkeling

Gettin' down with the home boys of the local Bedouin 'hood. Of course, having some tea.

After snorkeling for an hour we jumped back on our ATV's and headed for the desert. Dan and Brandi's first (maybe only) camel riding experience. One of them is having fun. And, as you will remember, this is where I met my love, Al Foud.
The camels rested and one of them really rested.
Local teen firing up the kettle...tea time.
Tourist + Bedouin = Shopping
After we dismounted and collapsed on the pillows in the tent one of the boys who lead the camels also lead us to the top of a mountain. I stayed and had more tea. (Photo by Dan)
The sun was beginning to relax and so were we. The shadows were long on the sand. This photo of me on Al Foud was inspired by a similar photograph by my friend Bill Glucroft.
Love Sinai!

A Love Story

2008-06-24T07:45:00.011+03:00

How lucky was I to have been chosen to get the angry camel. This is Al Foud. He had a mind of his own. Last week we were in the Sinai for two days and took a day tour. Here's how it went...ATV to the end of the lagoon, snorkeling, ATV to the desert, met our camels and rode to a Bedouin tent, climbed a mountain, rode the camels back to the ATV's and then ATV'd back to the resort.

Al Foud was not so bad after all, once he calmed down. We approached the camels from the ATV's and one of the boys who was in charge of the camels motioned for me to get on Al Foud.

This is how I met him, agitated.

I said to the guide, 'this one' and he said, 'yes, he's just mad'. I thought, why me? So many things flashed in and out of my mind at that moment. In camel language that only the camels and camel-boys know, a sound was made for Al Foud to kneel down and pick me up. Before I knew it I was up six feet off of the ground on Al Foud's back. I led by example...I heard two shrill sounds from my son and his friend; and I knew they had also mounted their camels. Luckily for me, I think, this was not my first experience riding a camel in the Sinai!

We began our journey. Now Al Foud was obviously the leader of the pack. The boy led me and Al Foud first up the path and the others followed. You really can't imagine how disconcerting it is when the boy lets go of the reigns and gives them to you. I gave the boy a hesitant smile as I grabbed them. So me and Al Foud were off. Not one person or thing was in front of us except the wide, open desert. I prayed that Al Foud knew where we were going. He didn't disappoint me.

Al Foud would stop along the way to pick up bamboo shoots and all sorts of odds and ends to munch on. His head sounded very hollow. The other camels would pause too to let Al Foud graze and if they didn't Al Foud would push his way through the camels who had begun to pass him. He didn't care that he was so close to the camels that I had to push people's legs out of the way so that we could pass and get to the front again. His leadership skills were remarkable.

A half an hour later we were at the Bedouin tent. We dismounted our camels and walked over for some refreshing hot and very sweetened tea. This is a standard when visiting Bedouin..and you DON'T turn it down - a grave insult. Al Foud sat down and took a rest. The other camels did too; one of them even laid flat out on his side.

After climbing the mountain (I didn't do this - there are some lines that I won't cross anymore - I just stayed with the Bedouin and drank tea), drinking yet more tea, buying jewelry (yes, buying jewelry, Bedouin appear from nowhere, put out a cloth and show their mother's handwork!), and resting under the tent we were ready to get back to the resort. What was funny was that our guide who had dirt biked up and met us was really just enjoying himself and wasn't taking the clue that we were ready to return to the resort.

Finally, I said in my broken Arabic, "Yalla, habibi!" Let's go dear! He took the not so subtle hint, threw back his remaining tea and took us over to the camels. The camels were still not so anxious to get back up again. I asked the boy what the name of my camel was. He said, "Al Foud." I didn't hear him well so I said, VERY LOUDLY, "Al Foud??"

At that moment Al Foud heard his name, jumped up to all fours and came right over to me. He had the look of luv in his eyes and I thought he was going to kiss me his camel lips got so close to mine. Everyone laughed. I didn't at first, really we had just met. The boy calmed Al Foud down again and I was able to mount him quickly and easily. Back to the ATV's and the turquoise blue water of the pool at the resort.

So was my afternoon with Al Foud. There will never be another camel in my life such as Al Foud.

Tel Dan Nature Reserve

2008-06-23T11:04:00.030+03:00

Gan Eden - Garden of Eden. This way to Paradise!

Tel Dan Nature Reserve is located in the Golan Heights near Mount Hermon, the tallest mountain in Israel. The Dan River is the largest and most important source of the Jordan River. Its springs provide water fed by the snow and rain on Mt. Hermon to the area. Because of its location Tel Dan is rich with plant life and animals. Within Tel Dan there is Ancient Dan which includes walls and gates and ritual sites dating back to the Neolithic Age - the beginning of the 5th millennium BCE. There is evidence that there was a city built early in the Canaanite period.

The tell is identified with the city of Laish, captured by the tribe of Dan. The tribe found it difficult to deal with the Philistines and so headed up north. "They proceeded to Laish....they rebuilt the town and settled there, and they named the town Dan, after their ancestor Dan who was Israel's son." Judges 18:27-29

Entrance to Tel Dan and next to the sign...my son Dan - no relation.

This is a must do on your next visit.

Local wildlife.

The Israelite Gate - built of three pairs of pilasters, apparently from the First Temple period (1006 - 586 BCE).

The Dan River

The Wading Pool. This is a shallow pool where everyone can wade in the cool water from one of the springs. The day we visited there was a field trip for a group of school girls. They were having a great time!
The Flour Mill was built around 150 years ago and operated on water power until 1948. The mill has two pairs of millstones.

Pistachio Lookout. Here you have a view of the reserve, the Hula Valley, the Naphtali Mountains, Mount Hermon and the Golan Heights. The lookout is named after the large Atlantic pistachio tree that grows there.

This is a remarkable reserve with so much to explore. Ancient ruins, flora, fauna, springs, a wading pool, hiking - really it is Paradise.

For the Beauty of the Earth

2008-06-21T13:58:00.015+03:00

Can worry make you live longer? Why worry about clothes? Look how the wild flowers grow.

But I tell you that King Solomon with all his wealth wasn't as well clothed as one of them.

God gives such beauty to everything that grows in the fields,

even though it is here today and thrown into a fire tomorrow.

He will surely do even more for you!

Why do you have such little faith?

Don't worry and ask yourselves, "Will we have anything to eat?

Will we have anything to drink? Will we have any clothes to wear?"

Only people who don't know God are always worrying about such things. Your God in heaven knows that you need all of thee. But more than anything else,

put God's work first and do what he wants. Then the other things will be yours as well.

Don't worry about tomorrow. It will take care of itself.

You have enough to worry about today.

Matthew 6: 28-33

Amirim

2008-06-20T08:49:00.015+03:00

Welcome to Amirim. Amirim is a vegetarian moshav in the upper Galilee about 20 minutes from Safed. WOW! This is the place to go if you want some good food, great accommodations and a spectacularly relaxing visit while you are in the Galilee.

Pardon the infomercial here but...we stayed at Zivon Guesthouse. The rooms were warm and lovely and very large each with its own kitchenette. When I entered my room there were balloons on my bed!!! I think I had the honeymoon suite. What were they thinking? We really enjoyed our two night stay and agreed that we really didn't need to see anything else after Zivon!

My front door.

Anat, the guesthouse owner loved gardening. Her roses were quite lovely and she had lemon verbena, mint and lots of other herbs planted around Zivon. We could pick them and make tea in our rooms.Outside of the room next to me where my son stayed was this swinging chair. Which, of course, we all fought to sit in. How antithetical to such a quiet and peaceful place.

The view from the porch and the swinging chair - see what I mean?

One of the better features of Zivon was the hot tub. I'm a hot tubber from way back - eat your hearts out Marcia and Chuck. This is the way down to the hot tub inside of the little cabin. The view as you can see was marvelous.
The TUBView from the tub at night.

The Ancient Seaport of Akko

2008-06-19T15:50:00.020+03:00

Akko, on the cost of the of the Mediterranean Sea, is a mix of Crusader ruins, Gothic archways and Mosques and minarets. The Old City of Akko is charming and filled with atmosphere and history. If you ever happen upon this part of the world, Akko is a place that you must make a priority to visit.

"The origins date back to Canaanite times, but the form in which it survives today was set by the Arabs and their Crusader foes. After the Crusaders took Jerusalem in 1099, they seized Akko as their main port and lifeline back to Europe. Lost at one point to the Muslim armies under Saladin, it was regained by Richard I, the Lionheart. Crusader Akko was destroyed by the victorious Arab armies in 1291 and what can be seen today is largely an 18th century Turkish town built on the site of the old."

There was so much to do here and our time was limited. Here are just a couple of highlights from the ancient city. We didn't get to see even half of what there is to see in the Old City. Inside the Citadel and the Subterranean Crusader city.

Listening to the self guided tour.

The Story of the Last Bath Attendant...Turkish bath that is...during the Ottoman Period. The baths served as a social center where people met for rest, entertainment and banquets. An imaginary story tells the history of Akko during the period.

Old meets new
Mosque of El-Jazzar. "Akko lay semi-derelict for more than 400 years after its destruction in 1291. Dahr el-Amer and his successor, Ahmed Pasha el-Jazzar governed the Ottoman city in the second half of the 18th century. El-Jazzar was a prolific builder and among his legacy is the mosque which bears his name." A walk down through the souk to the ancient seawall netted a BIG catch.

Stay Tuned....please

2008-06-13T09:18:00.004+03:00

We are still travelling! We just returned from the Galilee, the Golan Heights and the ancient port of Akko. We're home for 24 hours and then we're off to the Sinai for more antics, I mean adventure. When we return I'll post pictures and stories of which, I'm sure there will plenty. We're having a laugh a minute.

Shavuot

2008-06-08T21:59:00.016+03:00

Chag Samekh everyone, Happy Holiday!

Today is Shavuot, the Jewish Festival of Weeks. It's an agricultural holiday in which the Israelites of the Bible and in Israel, and throughout the world today celebrate the first fruits of the harvest. In ancient days the people would bring the first fruits of harvest of the season to Jerusalem to offer to God. It is also the day in which the giving of the Ten Commandments to Moses on Mt. Sinai is commemorated. Many Jews stay up all night long studying the Torah and particularly the Book of Ruth.

My son Dan and his friend Brandi have been visiting and we were invited to spend Erev Shavuot, the evening before Shavuot, at Kibbutz Tzuba with friends who live on the kibbutz. Tzuba is a vibrant kibbutz about 25 minutes west of Jerusalem. While the agricultural business, like in the US, is hurting Tzuba has been able to maintain a little of this business. In addition they manufacture glass for windshields, have an ulpan (an intensive Hebrew language class), an run Kaf Tzuba - an entertainment place for children.

There are approximately 500 people who live at Tzuba. Only 200 and some have voting rights for the kibbutz.

Last night there was a grand celebration. Long tables with white tablecloths were set up as well as a stage for entertainment. It's traditional to wear white on this night and for dairy products only to be served. (no meat but lots of cheeses and vegetable dishes) Many young girls had white dresses on and where wearing flower garlands in their hair. The food tables where decorated with fresh sunflowers which are abundant in Israel. We were unable to stay for the entertainment but at one point they invite all of the babies who were born throughout the year to come up for a special blessing.

Below are photos of Dan, Brandi, Rebe, Reuvan,Yael, Yasmin, Eden, and new little Eitan Yoav.
Eden has never been shy before!

And Yasmin never is!

Introducing Eitan Yoav being held by Rebe.

Dan watching Eden on one of the kibbutz tractors that were on display.

Dan, Brandi and Eden saying CHEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZE. It was a fun and joyful event.

Sleep in Heavenly Peace

2008-06-06T06:17:00.005+03:00

I've said before that cats are everywhere in Israel. This mother and her kitty's live next door to me. Although, one morning last week, very early in the morning, I went outside and she was sleeping right outside of my door. A moment of grace.

Petra Jordan

2008-06-03T19:41:00.022+03:00

My son and his friend have been here for a week. We've managed to pack in alot of sites, sounds, smells, and tastes in such a short time. From the Galilee to Bethlehem and Jerusalem, it seems like we did it all. We even managed to take a trip to Petra in Jordan. What a place! Through the recommendation of a classmate we called Abdallah, an 'unofficial' tour guide. He was just what we wanted. Not too much blah, blah, blah, just enough for my 20 something son and his friend's taste.

Abdallah took us on the 'off road', Indiana Jones path up to the High Place of Sacrifice. It was a lot of climbing and we didn't see any other tourists on the way. I was beginning to understand why he was unofficial. But the view when we arrived at the top was breath taking. You can see that there was no identified path.

We sat on top of the High Place of Sacrifice for about 30 minutes talking and enjoying the view. This is overlooking the Theatre that was carved in the mountainside by the Nabataeans around the 1st century. He said it held about 7,000 people.
The Theatre close up. It was build in the standard Roman design of the time.

Some of the Royal Tombs. They are facades sculpted into the mountain at the eastern end of the Petra basin.

The Treasury. Perhaps it's the best known of all Petra's temples. The Treasury from the 1st century BC takes its name from Bedouin folklore. They believed that the Khasneb el-Faroun (Treasury of the Pharaoh) was the magical creation of a great wizard who had deposited treasure in its urn.

We exited Petra by the Siq. This is the traditional entrance to Petra. The first temple that you see is the Treasury which you can see here. The Siq is a deep ravine, formed when a split in the mountain was swept clear by water from the Wadi Musa.

You could take an Arabian horseback ride or carriage if the walk was too long (and too hot!!) We walked. Abdallah said we needed at least two full days to see the entire city of Petra. We wished that we had two full days. To find more information, history and professional photos of Petra click on the link.

The trip into Jordan was great! And, the best part...the border crossing was uneventful!

Sunrise on the Galilee

2008-06-02T14:47:00.006+03:00

This beautiful sunrise was over the Sea of Galilee in Tiberias. The next few days I will post photographs from places that we've visited in the past week. My son and his girlfriend have been visiting from the States. They leave this evening and then my other son and his girlfriend will be in on Friday! Lot's of travel, lots of fun.

A Border Crossing to Remember (wasn't there a movie by a similar title???)

2008-05-28T08:37:00.002+03:00

Angels come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. I know because I have encountered some here in Israel. I’m not crazy and I don’t have Jerusalem syndrome but I do know when there has been some divine intervention in my life.

I went to the Sinai and the unexpected happened. I woke up on the day that my friends Donna and Dale and I were to leave for Jerusalem… and wouldn’t you know it, I went into Atrial Fibrillation….again. I blogged about my hospital experience with the first episode of A Fib a while back. This one is even more dramatic (and humorous) because we were scheduled to get a cab to the Taba border and cross back from Egypt into Israel.

I woke up early to get my suitcase packed, should’ve done it the night before but we were living it up at the resort watching a superb belly dance performance from which we just couldn’t tear ourselves away. I felt the telltale sign of my heart beginning to fast forward into A Fib. I couldn’t stand up without feeling faint and I had only one hour to pack my bags and meet my friends for breakfast. Yikes!

I called my friend’s room but they had left for breakfast. So I figured they would know that something was up when I was a no-show for the fabulous, all inclusive breakfast buffet. I lay on the floor and packed my bags, had I been watching myself on closed circuit television I would have laughed my rear off. Quite funny really, a grown woman scooting from the bathroom to the bed; by this time everything was on the floor so that I could pack my bags laying down and, get myself dressed.

Sure enough, Donna called and I told her I needed assistance. She came right to my room on the third floor to which there was no elevator. The stairs were on the outside of the building in the sweltering heat of the Sinai. Of course, nothing is ever easy is it? My bags were packed and we began the descent to the ground level.

Finally after about ten minutes and stopping so that I wouldn’t pass out we get to the bottom, Donna calls Dale. I decided to lay down right there on the concrete path in the shade. They asked two grounds people to help us and grab a wheelchair. I’m sitting on the concrete half dazed but awake enough to know that the guy goes to get a wheelchair from the maintenance room but he didn’t have the key. We wait. Finally he gets the key and then……………….I don’t remember because I fainted.

Now I’ve never fainted before in my life. And, I supposed the Sinai is quite a glamorous place to pass out if you’re going to pass out. Better than in your basement doing laundry or some such mundane and stupid activity. I hear that I was not out for long but when I woke up four faces were in my face. Two I recognized slightly and the other two faces, Egyptian faces, I didn’t. They kept asking if I needed a doctor. I heard them but I couldn’t figure out what they were actually saying to me. Then I came to. They helped me into the very sandy wheelchair and we were off to the reception area. The ride was rather bumpy over the stone pathways and I had to tell the ‘driver’ to pull me backwards rather than to push me at times, sure made my ride and his work easier all the way around.

Now I’m feeling quite awful and my heart was really going fast. The man at the reception desk calls the hotel doctor. OH, was that doctor HANDSOME. Tall and dark, anyway. He took my pulse and listened to my heart. Really, I’m surprised it didn’t go off of the charts when he held my wrist. He wanted to see me in his clinic – too bad I was ill. But the clinic was in Sharm El Sheikh the opposite direction from where we were headed.

I declined thinking I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO AN EGYPTIAN HOSPITAL, I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO AN EGYPTIAN HOSPITAL. I knew that’s where I would wind up eventually had I gone to Sharm El Sheikh. Practically inaudible I said “No I’ll be fine” denial works wonders sometimes. “Just let me get to into Israel again and then I’ll go if I need to” I said. “OK, but drink some water and be sure to take your pills” he said and then called a cab for us. We knew at this point that we were going to miss the first bus back to Jerusalem.

I laid in the backseat of the Range Rover cab and let the hot, sandy wind blow over my body. I dozed until we got to Taba, the border crossing between Egypt and Israel. Donna asked for a wheelchair and when it arrived she helped me into it. I slumped down to rest my head on the back of the chair. I felt really bad because they had to carry my luggage all the way to the crossing and no one bothered to help until Dale asked for assistance. Sheesh. An Egyptian crossing guard began to push me to the customs office all the while the border police, dressed in black, looked at me suspiciously, a weird sight I’m sure.

We went through customs pretty quickly, I don’t think they knew what to do; they just wanted me out of Egypt so that I could be some other country’s problem. After getting through customs we were off to the border. Me, in the wheelchair and Donna and Dale behind with the luggage.
As I’m being rolled the crossing guard began to ask me for a tip! Hey, here I am parched and dry into about three hours of an A Fib attack and he keeps bugging me for a tip. I muster up the strength to say, quite loudly, “You’ll get your damn tip, just keep wheeling me.”

We come to the border and he stops abruptly. Rules are rules ya know? Especially here in the Middle East. After Donna gives him a tip he practically DUMPS me out of the Egyptian wheelchair into Israel. Donna yelled, ‘wait, she needs another wheelchair’, which I did, I still couldn’t stand without feeling faint. After a few minutes an Israeli crossing guard comes with a wheelchair and hands it over. I was transferred from one chair to the other without incident. But, the Israeli guards wouldn’t lift a finger to help us. Perhaps they thought I had explosives hidden on me, I don’t know, I guess I looked pretty suspect on one hand…but this sweet and sun tanned face??? Come on, really!

We go through the security line and Donna wheeled me to the customs booth. Donna explains to them that I needed a three month visa – the visa issue is another story. I was granted the visa and we were off once again in a cab to the bus station in Eilat. I had decided that I really wanted to get back to Jerusalem to deal with all of this. But this is not the end of the story.

We get to the bus station and I had to try and walk into the terminal. We had a wait before the next bus arrived. I only made it about 15 feet when I decided that I had to lay down right there on the pavement. No matter that people were passing by and some men were at a table drinking coffee. When you gotta lay down, well, you gotta lay down. I laid down right next to them and curled up. Every now and then I’d try to sit up but not for long. That’s when Ilana appeared.

I have no dignity left at this point. In a very gentle voice, Ilana says to me, “Lay on your back” and then she took my legs and rested them on her shoulders. Could it get any worse? Here I am in the glamorous, bikini clad women, resort town of Eilat, at the bus station, in full view of every passerby, with my legs on some woman’s shoulders. You know what? I didn’t care.
She began to rub my ankles and it felt good, I began to relax. Her face was gentle as she closed her eyes a slight smile on her face appeared. Donna, very discretely said to Ilana, “Are you a doctor?” Ilana smiles a little more and still with her eyes closed shakes her head no. Tears began to come to my eyes; I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Then, Ilana releases one of my ankles and snaps three times above her head as if she was snapping away the A Fib demon. She told me that it was ok to cry to let out the toxins in my body. Then, I remember she told me as a woman that I should clean. Clean the floors if I remember correctly so that I could release the bad body energy. I thanked her and promised to get busy cleaning when I got home, if I ever did get home.

She gently puts my legs down. She was a healer and, at this point, I was up for anything. Then just like that, she vanished. I did feel better and after a while sat up. But the A Fib had not subsided. I finally gave in and asked Donna to take me to the hospital for an EKG and heart monitor. Dale was taking care of the transportation arrangements and watching our bags.
The hospital emergency room was hopping. Donna was able to convince the receptionist that I needed an EKG, that it was my heart! But first, insurance, cash or credit? Credit since my insurance won’t cover this pre existing condition. I had been down this road before with the money situation and the treatment.

At this point I just wanted to be home. The Doctor gave me the choice, and 18 hour drip or a cardio conversion and within ten minutes I’d be fine. Is there a choice really? I opted for the conversion. He knocked me out, took the paddles, and shocked my heart into sinus rhythm and within 20 minutes I was off to get the bus back to Jerusalem. My conversion story complete.
I’ve learned that when you need help God always provides. It may not be in the way that you want it but I guess God does the best with what’s available at the time. In my case, God’s work was extraordinary, angels come in all shapes and sizes and my ticker is back to normal. Amen

Jerusalem Botanical Gardens

2008-05-23T07:25:00.017+03:00

The sky was crystal clear blue, not one white cloud floated across its expanse. It was hot but the flora in the Holy Land is in full bloom. It was the perfect day to pay a visit to the Jerusalem Botanical Gardens. My neighbor and I hiked to the Gardens and after arriving we were looking at the Water lily pond when a 80ish something man approached us. He was riding in a mini golf cart. "Say, do you want a tour?" he asked. Carole and I looked at one another and said, "Sure!"

"My name is Michael, I'm a retired tour guide but now I volunteer my time at the Botanical Gardens. Follow me" he said. He sped up in his cart over to a shade tree where we sat and chatted. We told he that we wanted to see any Biblical plants and orchids. There seems to be an affinity for orchids in Israel. Off we were. Michael said that the Jerusalem Botanical Gardens were not built necessarily for their beauty but for educational purposes. In our eyes it was very beautiful.

"You have a beautiful welcome" Michael said. The Magnolia trees were still, just barely, in bloom. They lined either side of the pathway as we walked on to the Biblical plants.

Lots of pistachio trees. This is an unusual variety with red nuts, and they aren't dyed! Michael was a great tour guide. Just perfect for us, not too much information but just enough. Often he couldn't remember the exact name of the plant but he had lively stories about several of the trees. He was hearing impaired so sometimes a question or two was left unanswered. And when Michael wanted to get to another plant in a hurry he would speed up in his cart leaving us in the dust!

We tried to give him a tip when we were through. Of course he refused but then gave in to our insistence. He asked our permission to give the money as a donation to the programs at the Botanical Gardens for the classes for autistic children. A perfect ending to a beautiful morning.

Around Town

2008-05-20T19:05:00.016+03:00

I want to share some random photos with you. They were not taken on the same day but they were snapped on one of my many walks in Jerusalem. This is the veranda right outside of St. John's Chapel of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in the Old City. It is here that we have coffee hour and greet tourist who worshipped with us.
On Ben Yehuda Street - you'll always find someone selling items. This man was out selling tefillin to a passerby. Tefillin are little black boxes that have small scrolls inside inscribed with scripture passages. Jews are to wear them at morning prayers.

A woman asking for 'donations' at the Kotel or Western Wall

Nuns walking back from the Sunday morning worship service at the Dormition Abbey.

Boys will be boys. After school one day I saw these boys climbing a Palm tree outside of the walls of the Old City.

One of the shops at the marketplace in the Old City.

Either his parents forgot to tell him that the 60's were over or he has a case of Jerusalem Syndrome. He was playing his guitar at the entrance to the Holy Sepulchre plaza.

There's a Sermon in Here Somewhere

2008-05-16T16:47:00.018+03:00

Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

And he said to them, ‘What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?’ They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, ‘Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?’ He asked them, ‘What things?’ They replied, ‘The things about Jesus of Nazareth….

....Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, ‘Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.’ So he went in to stay with them.

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’ That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!’ Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Cleopus and the other disciple weren’t quite sure with whom they were talking when they were travelling on the road to Emmaus. All they know is that a stranger joined them who had no idea or clue what had just happened in Jerusalem…that is Jesus’ tomb was found empty! It got late, they arrived finally at Emmaus. They were hungry so the invited Jesus to join them. Still they didn’t who this person was who was walking with them. Then, Jesus broke bread in the same way that he had done before. It was then that the disciples realized who it was that was with them. But by then, Jesus vanished.

This story appears in Luke 24 and is the second appearance of Jesus after his resurrection. It’s a favorite story among Christians relating to the breaking of the bread and knowing at that point that they are in communion with the risen Christ.

On the road again, and again, and again to Emmaus.

Some friends and I thought it would be great to go to Emmaus. How difficult could that be? After all, the Bible says that it was only seven miles outside of Jerusalem. Geez, we could practically walk it….just like the disciples..yeah right!

The tourist guidebooks not only tell you about one Emmaus, but four sites where the Emmaus “event” could possibly have happened. Now what to do? We rented a car since this appeared to be more difficult than we had thought. We got out a touring map, put on our sunscreen and then headed out Route 1 the main road from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. It wasn’t until the fourth century CE that these sites were suggested: Abu Ghosh, Latrun, el-Qubeibeh and Qalunieh.

I didn’t want to tell them that this was the first time that I had driven since last September. But, I couldn’t hide my joy at being behind the wheel again. Bliss. Ecstasy. And best of all, I remembered how to do it. Except that my left leg kept flying up in the air to depress the clutch like I was stomping grapes.

The first stop was Abu Ghosh a small Arab village north of Jerusalem. Aside from being a possible contender for Emmaus Abu Ghosh is known all over the country for their hummus, it’s the best. We stopped at one of the restaurants. We broke pita, ate hummus but our eyes were not opened. Neither were anyone else’s eyes in the restaurant opened for that matter.

We set out on our way and after circling the city several times we finally found a Crusader Church, the Church of Notre Dame de l’Arche de l’Alliance. We walked up to the gate, and of course, just our luck, it was closed. Sunday! Of course, what were we thinking? Even churches need a day of rest. We did sneak through an open gate and walk around the grounds, no one seemed to mind. There were only workers retiling the roof and climbing on the scaffolding that surrounded a very large Mary. Our eyes still were not opened.

Al Qubeibeh, which is closely located to Abu Ghosh also is a suggested sight. Both of these places are dated rather late during the Crusader Period. Again we took a very circuitous route trying to find Al Qubeibeh. Finally we found the road and we coming close to the area we ran up against a big, yellow, iron gate. We could no further. What we didn’t see on the map was that Al Qubeibeh is in the West Bank. In order to get there we would have had to drive about 45 minutes to the checkpoint where we could get in. We decided not to take our chances and figured our eyes wouldn’t be opened there either.

The next possible sight was in the area of Latrun Monastery. The identification of this area is fairly early and is mentioned in Eusebius’ Onomasticon around 330 CE. Pay dirt we thought! But no. The Trappist Monks are the caretakers of the Monastery and are known for their wine. Damn. The shop was closed…because it was Sunday. So was the church for that matter, but we were able to walk a short distance in their very beautiful gardens. Eyes – still shut.

Close by the Monastery in Latrun is a place where a church complex was excavated dated to the 2nd and 1st centuries BCE. The complex is called Churches of Emmaus – Nicopolis. Emmaus was granted the status of a city back in the day (218-222 CE) by Emperor Elagabalus and was subsequently known as Nicopolis. The Crusaders settled in the area in the 12th century CE and built a small church within the other complex. Even though this is called the Churches of Emmaus – Nicopolis it was not thought by the Crusaders as the gospel tradition of Emmaus. Of course it was closed.

Now what? Our energy was depleted. We hadn’t really seen anything nor could we confirm that we had had an eye opening experience in our search for Emmaus. We did have fun and enjoyed exploring the countryside on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. We figured out that you don’t really need to be certain where Emmaus was in order to have your eyes opened to the redemptive power of Christ.

At least I have photos of all of the Church signs.

A Pee Wee Moment

2008-05-10T10:58:00.006+03:00

Pee Wee’s Big Adventure is a story filled with ‘Pee Wee Herman’ moments, actually the entire movie is a Pee Wee moment for that fact. No matter what befalls him, no matter where he winds up, or who he is with there is always a time in which his frantic little life is slowed down, a nanosecond, and he engages in a compassionate act, of sorts. In the movie Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, his Road Master bicycle is stolen. On the advice of a whacked out, money hungry fortune teller he heads off to Texas in search of his bike. The Alamo, more specifically. In the basement of the Alamo is where the fortune teller tells him he’ll find his bike.

Pee Wee is a feverish little wisp of a man-boy. His house is filled with contraptions and toys. He is determined to find his bike. The music reflects his frenetic activity; you sort of get caught up in it. But he stops to pet animals, rescue snakes, comfort a lovelorn waitress and then without missing a beat, continues the search for his bike.

I had a Pee Wee moment last Wednesday. I was practically galloping up Agrippas Street to get to a lunch date for which I was already late. I was heading into the Makane Yehuda area, one of the, if not the most chaotic markets in Jerusalem. But I was stopped at the crosswalk by the little red man walker light. Which, in Israel, is a very long stop. If there is one thing that Israeli’s do, it is to stop at the pedestrian lights. No matter where you get the red walkers light they stop. A busy intersection, they stop. An empty intersection, they stop and wait. Even on Shabbat where there are three cars in all of Jerusalem on the road, they pleasantly wait. Their patience is overwhelming and practically unbelievable considering the pushy behavior that they sometimes display.

I was waiting with everyone else when I turned around and saw an elderly woman standing behind me. She was a little humped over, slightly overweight and when the green man walker light appeared she asked me something and put out her hand.

For the briefest moment I thought, O GEEZ, I need to bolt across Agrippas in Pee Wee style and get to the restaurant. But, I took her hand instead. Slowly and gently we began to walk across to the first island in the street. She talked to me in Hebrew even though I told her that I spoke mostly, almost exclusively English. We walked to the second medium island, it’s an odd intersection, and then continued to the other side. We were at the market. She released my hand but I grabbed it again because the sidewalk was crowded and we needed to walk in the street for a short distance. When we parted she said over and over, “Todah Rabah, Todah Rabah,” which means thank you. I sped up once again, in Pee Wee style, to get to the restaurant. It wasn’t until late in the evening that I thought about the woman in the middle of my big rush.

I lost my mother many years ago; sometimes it’s hard to envision what our lives and relationship would be like today. Mom probably would be about the same age as this woman. Maybe she would have even held out her hand for me to hold. At least I hope so. I’m going to interpret my “Pee Wee” moment with this stranger as a visit from mom. It was a split second of grace in a world of uncertainty and rushed living. This woman’s eagerness to depend on a me, a stranger, caught me and touched me in a most Godly way.

I’m not sure who was guiding whom; we both needed one another at the moment.

Yesterday in Rehavia

2008-05-09T14:07:00.025+03:00

Yesterday was Yom Ha'atsmaut in Israel. A day set aside to celebrate her independence after the UN voted to establish the State of Israel in 1948. This year was the 60th anniversary which was marked in a very grand fashion. As Yom Zikaron - Remembrance/Memorial Day -ended at sunset on Wednesday, Yom Ha'atsmaut began in the same breath. Fireworks began about 11:00 pm and there were parties and singing that went on into the wee hours of the night. In the morning at Gan Sacher, a park near me, the bar-b-ques were already beginning. At noon an air show flew right over my apartment building.
I've talked about my neighborhood, Rehavia, in previous blogs. It's a great place with narrow, tree lined streets and geraniums, roses, honeysuckle in full bloom. Rehavia is an older neighborhood where Hebrew Gymnasia, the first school to educate boys and girls together was established in 1929. The neighborhood has quite a history. The home of the second and longest running president of Israel, Yitzhak ben Tzvi is preserved a few blocks away from me.

Each Yom Ha'atsmaut Rehavia closes off its streets and treats the residents from all over Jerusalem to a street fair. At different intersections men and women were dressed in period costume and dancing, singing and telling the stories of Israel and of the neighborhood. There was music, street vendors, antiques dealers, cotton candy, candy apples and lots of good fun. The day was stunning and people were joyful. The Israeli flag was flying almost everywhere you looked.

An antique Egged bus!
The day ended with a spectacular sunset. Happy Anniversary Israel.

Israel Celebrates 60 Years

2008-05-08T10:14:00.002+03:00

Yom HaZikaron, Day of Remembrance

2008-05-07T13:24:00.026+03:00

Yom HaZikaron, Day of Remembrance Today in Israel the memory of her fallen soldiers is being observed. It is quite a mournful day as Israel remembers the men and women of the Israeli Defense Forces and Israeli Security Services and victims of terrorist action who have lost their lives. It is Memorial Day here. At 11:00 am a siren sounded for two minutes throughout the country. Traffic stops no matter where you are in remembrance of the fallen. It is not like Memorial Day in the United States filled with parades and bar-b-ques, it is filled with prayer and reflection.

I attended a ceremony at the local high school in Rehavia which is not far from my house. Although in Hebrew, parts of the service I could understand. We stood when the siren wailed the two minute salute and then recited Kaddish Yatom - a special prayer that praises God. Kaddish is said during a time of mourning for people who have lost loved ones. A torch was lit and the ceremony began.

The high school has been functioning for 99 years and during that time 137 individuals, students and teachers have lost their lives. Their names were read individually according to the period in which they lost their lives. The students read poetry and sang songs. It was quite moving. The service ended with Hatikva, the Israeli National Anthem. Hatikva means 'the hope', the hope of Jewish people to return to their homeland.

I am not an advocate for war but I do believe that we should honor those whose lives have been lost in defense of his or her country. As the names were being read I heard my last name among them. My name is not a common one here and so when I heard it, it jarred me. I thought of my own children and it reminded me that the fallen soldiers were so young with so much potential and hope for a nation.

In Israel every young person, after high school does military service for three years. Everyone. I'm sure that families are prepared in the corners of their minds for the very real possibility of losing their loved one. The reality is, they could..and many do.

Let us remember all of the people who have died, no matter what country that they are defending, for in their death they have given a nation and life to us.

One Last Photo from Darajat

2008-05-06T16:09:00.009+03:00

One of the most exciting, unplanned activities or, eh hum, learning experiences happened on the last night that we were in Darajat. We were sitting around the dinner table outside the home in which we lodged. The sun had gone down and the hamseen had broken so the wind was nice and cool after so many days of hot and sandy wind and dry air. A mixture of Hebrew and Arabic jokes were whirling around the table. A few, that were suitable for my ears, were translated into English.

A few of the children were still awake and sitting on the steps next to us. They began squealing and then yelling. A man ran to them, took off his sandal and whacked it on the ground a few times. We didn't know what was happening except that it was rather intense compared to the levity at the dinner table. Their squealing stopped and they gathered around the one sandaled man to see the catch of the day.

The catch...a scorpion.

I blogged about this traumatic event in an earlier blog but my friend and 'roomie' had a photo of the booger. Just want to show you that I WAS NOT KIDDING about the scorpion!! She gave me permission to post the photo. Nice, scorpion huh?

You can check out Dina's blog at www.jerusalemhillsdailyphoto.blogspot.com for another view of life in Jerusalem.

Passover

2008-05-04T17:57:00.004+03:00

Geesh, it seems like ages ago that I actually sat down to write about life here. It’s easy to get caught up in posting photographs with little commentary. I know that pictures speak a thousand words but sometimes they can’t really give you the interesting, sordid, mundane or exciting details of life in Israel.

It’s been a busy month here. Pesach (Passover) was almost two weeks ago now. There was a lot of excitement leading up to it. On the lampposts and street side billboards notices began to appear, the homemade kind with the tear off phone number at the bottom. People were advertising their services as housecleaners for Pesach. I was so tempted. Either to rip off one of the phone numbers or to put up my own up to make a few extra shekels, any way I figured I would benefit. But then I realized this was so not about me moreover, I didn’t know how to properly clean for Pesach. Nor did I care if my apartment was dirty really. Granted it’s a special kind of cleaning but it couldn’t hurt, right?

Getting ready for Pesach is a pretty detailed here. I suppose in a Jewish community anywhere it’s the same but the preparations are quite visible here. Getting back to the cleaning, Torah says that there should be no chametz in the house. Chametz is any food may of grain and water that is allowed to ferment or to leaven. So people clean and get it out of the house.

On the Friday morning before Pesach, I woke up to a burning smell. Quite a strong smell, which seemed so odd and out of place here. I thought perhaps a house was on fire until I remembered that my friend told me that there a very few house fires here because the houses and apartment buildings are made from stone and concrete. When I finally went out to the flower shop at the end of my street I found the source of the smell. The yeshiva on the corner was having a bonfire on the sidewalk. Everyone in the neighborhood was bringing their chametz and other various, and not to mention curious, items to pile on the heap. All day long the burning went on and sometimes it was accompanied with singing. So needless to say Rehov Ramban was pretty lively.

On the way home from the florist I stopped in our local little food market. As I walked in a group of young people were standing outside asking for food donations items like rice, canned goods, or baby food so that less fortunate families could enjoy a Pesach Seder meal. As I put the extra bag of groceries which I had bought for the collection I remembered the Seder’s that people had invited me to past few years. How wonderful and joyous they were and how blessed I was to be invited.

I walked down the aisles looking to pick up some last minute items because Shabbat was about to begin and when that happens all of the stores and businesses are closed for 24 hours. But when I went in, huge areas of shelves had white plastic taped over them. Oy, not kosher for Passover! I have to say, there were slim pickin’s but really, none of us starved. Thankfully Bamba was made kosher for Passover. Bamba, although not high up there on my snack food list, is a peanut butter flavored puffed corn item. Bamba was especially marked kosher so all of the little children could be happy and keep up their Bamba addiction.

As Shabbat came to an end and the sun was setting, Pesach began. The full moon layered Jerusalem with a gentle light. It illumined the streets and stone walkways. Little girls were dressed in their finest and men and women so too, dressed in their most excellent attire, were on their way to family and friend’s Seders.

I was invited to a Seder with friends from the States. It was an enjoyable evening with friends. Good food was abundant and lots of ritual, which I love. We lit candles and read from the Haggadah. Jews are commanded to tell their children about the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt to freedom. The Haggadah tells the story. We remembered the plagues, cleansed our hands, and sang.

The matriarch of the family retired for the night. I went over to say good night and thank her for having me in her home. Her memory is dim but not her purpose or her kindness. When I held her hand and said good night she said to me, “oh, you’re the new girl”. I softly said, “yes, I’m the new girl.” Then she told me that “God is good.” Indeed.

Holidays are a unique time for us. Whether it is a Jewish holiday, or a Christian holiday, or even a Muslim holy day, it brings people together and binds them with shared memories that are not created intentionally but are created through the interaction with others and in the sharing of life’s crags and valleys.

It is tradition that the Seder ends with the words, ‘next year in Jerusalem’. I don’t know where I’ll be next year but this Seder, in Jerusalem, will always remain in my heart.

L’shana ha’ba-ah b’Yerushalayim

Darajat Information

2008-05-02T07:33:00.009+03:00

Tomer Cahana, a tour guide in the Negev, had a vision for the village of Darajat. They have done extraordinary things in the life of he village and he would like for Darajat and it's people to become a place where people, tourists, will visit. Several of the villagers have gone on to become tour guides themselves and bring tourists to the village. Tomer's hope is that through this program and others in Darajat that it will become a economically thriving village.

The 'summer school' which I attended was only the second time that such a program was held. Our experience was written about in Haaretz both in the English and Hebrew edition.

Sunrise over Darajat

Mah salaameh, Mah salaameh

Bread Baking in Darajat

2008-05-01T09:04:00.018+03:00

Unc, this one's for you! Several times a day the women of Darajat would bake a bread called hoobus in an oven called a taboon. The taboons were inside of these little huts and were placed throughout the village. The bread is a traditional Bedouin bread that is served with every meal. It's large and flat, sort of like pita but not really. You use the bread to scoop up just about everything that is served, tahina, hummus, salata, roz w'bendora (rice with vegetables), labane with zahtar. Really yummy.

The dough was prepared in their kitchens and then taken down to the taboon. Several days ago I posted a photo of a woman walking down to the taboon with the dough on top of her head.

The cone with lid is where the dough is put to bake. She lifts the top off of the cone and places one loaf inside of the cone. The loaves take only 5 minutes...maybe to bake.

Here she is taking the dough balls and placing one of them into extra flour. She's getting ready to prepare the dough for baking. You can see the freshly baked hoobus on the tray. Hoobus is good.....but hoobus directly from the taboon, next best thing to heaven.
She takes the dough and stretches it 'pizza style' until it's ready to go into the taboon for baking.
My 'roomie' getting a close up shot of the dough going into the taboon to bake. It layed over some sort of mold inside. The top was placed on and minutes later, hot hoobus.
I liked the crispy parts. The loaves are about 12 inches in diameter.

Our class taking our lunch break. Hot soup for a hot day, salads and hoobus. Bon Appetite!

Women of Darajat

2008-04-30T18:08:00.021+03:00

It is difficult to write commentary for these photos because by the end of the week we had come to understand one another as women and as friends. Most of the women in these photographs are of the women with whom we stayed. The women took their meals separately from us but sat by us as we ate. In one sense it was uncomfortable because they waited on us but their hospitality is extraordinary. We talked as best as we could between our Arabic, Hebrew, and English but somehow it didn't matter we got the point across. When it was finally time for us to say goodbye, we kissed cheeks several times, back and forth, saying good bye to one another. I will remember them for a long time to come.

Life in Darajat

2008-04-29T08:32:00.038+03:00

The minaret of the mosque in Darajat. On top of the hill is the grave of a sheikh from the village. My friend and I wanted to go into the mosque and some children wanted to show it to us. As we walked over we became the pied piper, children gathered around to show us their mosque. We took off our shoes and went in. They took us to the top! I'm not sure if we were supposed to be up there but there we were with a grand view of the terrain and Darajat.

Looking down from the top of the minaret. The panel to the left is a solar panel. The town functions on generators and they boast that the mosque is the only mosque that is powered by generator.

We followed the children up the rounded staircase to the platform that you see with the railing.A budding muezzin! Muslim's are required to pray salah, ritual prayer five times a day. He is standing next to the pulpit or minbar. I'm not sure if this boy is facing Mecca but the muezzin faces toward the Ka'bah in Mecca. In Darajat the first call to prayer comes at 4:30 am!!! It was nice, I think. It began my morning early and in prayer, although mine were under the sheets. The muezzin of course woke up the roosters who sometimes decided to sit beneath my window. They prayed very loudly too.

One afternoon we took a tiyul (side trip) to the top of the hills that surround Darajat. There is a quarry on their land where many of the men work. It is said that it is through this valley Abraham, Isaac and Jacob traveled from Bet El and Hebron south to Beer Sheba, the Negev and then on to Egypt in the book of Genesis.
As we descended the hills we had this glorious view of all of Darajat. It was dusk so the light were beginning to come on.

And what's a bedouin village without camels. Here you can see camels grazing on the hills.

Some of the buildings appear to be vacant. They are but that is the way in which Arabs build their homes. They are built to accomodate generations of families. On the porch level we stayed on you could see the columns that had been inserted for the next level when it needs to be built. In 2005 the Israeli government recognized this village as a legitamate dwelling. The water pipes have been layed but Darajat has not been 'hooked' up to the water system. What they have to do is bring in water by tanks. In this photo the boys are on top getting the siffoning system going. We were without water in our bathroom for a day and a half, but there was water to drink.
A view out of the back of my bedroom window.
The weather was hot and windy because we were in a hamseen wind for most of the time were were there. Visibility was not the best. This boy choose to sleep on top of the roof to get some air. I found it hard to sleep because the wind coming through the windows were hot and so dry. One night before I climbed into bed I had to shake my sheets to get the fine layer of sand off.
The last night we were there though the hamseen broke. You know when they break because there is more wind but it's coooooool!!

As another little aside....also on the last night a few of us were sitting at the table outside where we took our meals. Three children were sitting on the steps next to us and a man began to yell. Then he took his sandal off and slapped it on the ground. He killed a scorpian....that was right next to us....it was about two inches long.

A woman bringing dough down to the taboon oven. I'll post a separate entry about hoobus and the taboon.
At night the mosque was lit, again, by generator. All mosques have these green vertical lights illuminating the minaret. This photo was taken early in the evening. When most of the generators went off the mosque generator stayed on. The green glow was quite lovely but not when you're trying to go to sleep.

Children of Darajat

2008-04-27T13:36:00.014+03:00

Darajat or Drejat is a small village of 800 people nestled in the Arad Valley in the Negev. They are falakhim - or Arab farmers - who established the city in the mid 19th century. They do not consider themselves Bedouin now anymore but come from that lifestyle lineage. I spent a week in Darajat with ten other people learning a little Arabic and living in a host home. Over the next few days I'll be posting photographs from the village and will give more commentary. The two above photos show the little ones of the village watching the young teens perform traditional Bedouin dances.

My friend and I asked to see the mosque one afternoon. The children were more than happy to show us around and up to the top. More photos will come but in the photo above a boy sits inside of a widow opening inside of the mosque.

Children exercising after a lunch break.

Some of the people from our class entertaining the neighborhood kids

Morning of Roses

2008-04-25T21:39:00.002+03:00

I've just returned from Darajat, a Bedouin village in the Negev.

There will be another posting tomorrow.

Nuweiba - Day Three...Still

2008-04-19T14:32:00.031+03:00

After four hours of jeeping in the desert and hiking the Coloured Canyon, it was time to move on...as best as we could with our parched bodies and aching feet. Ahmed did the pass off with us to Mahmoud. We were smoothly transferred at the entrance to Nuweiba, a Bedouin town on the Gulf of Aqaba. Famous for it's fabulous shopping. I wouldn't quite use the word fabulous to describe the shopping conditions but, there were things that we managed to pick up at a bargain. Donna and I were very aware of the fact that Egyptian women on the streets, or in the shops, or in the hotel were non-existent. We did see a few out early in the morning walking to market or tend the goats. These photos were taken quickly from the car. Mahmoud said that they don't like to have their photos taken.

We were starving when we arrived. The hotel had packed a box lunch for us to take on the road. Mahmoud found this seaside restaurant that we could sit and eat. The breeze was magnificent and our lunch was, not so much. We each got a sandwich with one slice of cheese and another sandwich with what looked like a single two x one slice of beef jerky, maybe camel meat, who knows. It was undecipherable. There was a whole cucumber, a whole tomato, and a whole orange. Oh yeah and a bottle of water. We ate reluctantly dreaming of the dinner that we would have later at the hotel.

The jig is up Bush.

After we ate Donna and I took off for the strip mall. Dale decided to just sit and enjoy the ocean breeze. Not sure who had the best that Nuweiba could offer, him or us.

I bought more scarves. By now, I could practically open up my own scarf and pashmina shop.

Word spread that tourists were in town. The only tourists within miles were in town. And the little girls came up to see if we wanted to buy some of their jewelry. They carried little hobo bags filled with bead necklaces and bracelets. I wouldn't buy at first....the little shisters wanted 20 pounds per necklace. I KNOW. But their so cute, and so poor. I said, "lah, shookrahn", no thanks and cold heartedly walked away. I KNOW, I'm a sleazeball. By now, my bargaining skills are extraordinary. But, so were theirs. They followed me saying, in very broken English, "how much you want to pay". I looked at Mahmoud, he looked at me. I said, 10 pounds, that's it. We struck a bargain. I sat down in the dusty road and chose one necklace from each girl. They were happy, I was happy.

The pink sisters.

She was the more serious of the lot. Her necklaces were different than the others also.

She waited patiently for her cut.I barely could get up off of the dirt road at this point. It was really hot, did I mention that?? And, because of hiking the Coloured Canyon only an hour before every time my legs had a chance to rest they quit working all together. I left the girls with my necklaces and they left with my money. Donna and I continued to peruse that shops. When we were leaving the girls were sitting on the steps eating candy.

An Egyptian cat!

This was the end of our quick two days in the Sinai. We got out a few pounds heavier and a few pounds lighter.

The Coloured Canyon - Day Three

2008-04-18T14:20:00.049+03:00

The following day, after climbing Mount Sinai we hiked down into the Coloured Canyon. It's about an hour and a half ride outside of Taba on the road to Cairo. Mahmoud drove us to get our jeep-truck with a new driver, Ahmed. At first he didn't seem to happy, but he cheered up after we got on the road. I thought to myself, somehow this scenario seems a little scary. I took a picture of him from the back. Just in case.

After we turned off the main highway we drove another twenty minutes to the little plaza where groups gathered to go down. After Donna and I paid another pound to pee (sorry) we were on our way with Ibrihim, our new foot guide. The path at this point was fairly smooth, a little windy, and not too steep. And yes, it WAS hot.

The Coloured Canyon is approximately 820 feet down.

Once we reached the bottom it was fairly smooth although sandy. Another couple from Russia joined Ibrihim and us.

But then, the path got a little narrower. Ibrihim is the one with the caftan!

Here's Dale forging the way for us. Donna and I always lagged behind to take pictures.
Ibrihim looking for us. Every now and then he'd say - yalla! Come on. Yesterday at Mount Sinai and today at the Coloured Canyon I began to appreciate the ease in which these guides traverse the terrain and are attuned to nature.

What makes this canyon so spectacular is the color of the different strata. Ibrihim didn't speak much English so we didn't find out much while we were on the tour. Wish I had a special filter for the camera, but beautiful all the same.

Sometimes the path was so narrow that you had to go feet first through the opening. This is Dale, going before us.

Now it's my turn. Ibrihim ready to catch me on the other end.

Ready, set, go...

Push....

My breach rebirth in the Sinai Coloured Canyon. Now I remember what it's like to come barreling through the birth canal.

Really, Ibrihim, another?

Once through these tight corridors we came upon a man making hot, sweetened tea. It was good and refreshing, except there were these nasty bees that were about an inch long. The loved the sweet tea and our sweaty bodies.

Back on the road again. The walls of the canyon went up some 16 stories. I felt so little in God's great earth.

Still on the road.
We are finally coming out of the canyon and have to hike up to the top of the rim. That part was the killer. Still hot, still dry, a very, very tired.

Cheery Ahmed was waiting for us. We sat and had some juice and listened to the quiet of the canyon before getting in the jeep for the ride home. I said, "Ahmed, what'd ya do while we were gone? Smoke cigarettes and drink coffee?" He said, "No I don't smoke or drink, I just like women." OK.

These dogs were barkin' man. Couldn't even bat off the fly on my ankle. The guy at the hotel told us it was only about an 800 meter walk. Bull____. I would have worn my hiking boots had I known. Back home we went.

Mt. Sinai - The Second Day...still

2008-04-17T18:23:00.058+03:00

It was getting towards noon, maybe a little after and the air was dry, the sun hot. Not as hot as it could have been though. Mahmoud drove us out of St. Catherine's to the other side of Mount Sinai, the biblical Mount Horeb. It is said that it is here Moses received the 10 Commandments. The elevation of Mount Sinai is 7,496 feet. The first 2/3's of the trip can be on foot or by camel. The last 1/3 was by foot. Our approach. I don't have pictures of me mounting Ahloosh, my camel yet. Donna has them on her camera. It's probably a good thing anyway. I don't think it was so graceful.

Meet Ahloosh and Hajeeb. Hajeeb is a 13 year old Bedouin boy who has great command of Ahloosh. He was quite chatty even though we didn't understand one another. I figured out that Moosa is Moses in Arabic. Hajeeb knew Ahloosh and Ahloosh listened to him. At first, and in tight passages Hajeeb guided Ahloosh by a bridle and rope. He soon let go of the reigns, much to my dismay and doubt and threw them over Ahloosh's long neck. So, it was just me and Ahloosh. When Hajeeb wanted him to stop he would make some clicking noises with his tongue. When Ahloosh had to go up stone steps Hajeeb wound give a command before each step taken.

Donna and Dale were behind me. They had slower camels!! Ahloosh zipped along despite the heat and me on top of him.

This is Hajeeb. Poor kid walked up 2/3 of Mt. Sinai while I road.

Ahloosh stops to look at a monastery nestled in the back side of Mt. Sinai. I took a few pics. It was more difficult to take pictures as he was moving. Not such a smooth ride if you know what I mean.

The long and winding road....dah, dat, daaah. If you've ever had the donkey ride to the bottom of the Grand Canyon experience you'll know what this was like. Sometimes Ahloosh just ambled along looking to the right and looking to the left, never breaking stride. Made me a little nervous.

The moon rising over Mt. Sinai.

We're getting pretty close to the first stop here as you can see, we are almost eye level with the range of Mountains around us.

Apparently camels doo doo alot as the walk. I don't know...I was on the lead camel.

We've reached the Sinai Rose, a small cafe at the point where we had to dismount our ride. Reluctantly I said goodbye to Ahloosh and Hajeeb.

Inside of the Sinai Rose. Not many customers. But, lovely handbags for sale.

Now we begin the final 1/3 of the ascent on foot. Geez, you'd think we were climbing Mt. Everest. It was taxing though and the air was getting a little thinner and the sun a little hotter. But the view, well decide for yourself. I think it was worth it.

At the next stopping point there was a man who was sitting on a large outcropping. He just looked into the distance meditating and smoking.

Most often people want to trek up the mountain in the dark in order to see the sunrise. Or, they will come up late in the afternoon to watch the sunset. We didn't feel as if we needed that experience at our ages. It gets very cold on top when the sun sets. There are five little stores, and I use that word really very loosely, that rent blankets and mattresses.

A couple of the stores sold chocolate, soda and water. An odd combination but by the time we got there we NEEDED chocolate. It was so good. The picture above is of Youssif Coffe Shop. His address was number 3. There were five stores only, in a small space, but, they each had an address. We bought chocolate from store 1.

We passed on the mattresses and blankets.

Pretty, eh? Now it is about 3:00 pm and as you can see the light of the sun is changing.

At the summit, finally, after a 1 and 1/2 hour camel ride and a 1 and 1/2 walk. The good news...there were no new commandments that we had to bring down with us. I don't know how we could have carried them anyway with our cameras and water bottles.

Nah, we'll pass. We didn't think so either.

On our way down this Bedouin with his three donkeys laden with cargo passed us very quickly. He is on the same path that we were on so you can see it wasn't a paved garden pathway!

He really zipped by us.

Now we are getting close to the bottom. About in the middle of this photo you can see St. Catherine's. So what we did was to come down the other side of the Mt. Sinai. By now it's about 5:00 pm.

St. Catherine's Monastery.

Bedouin riding home for the night.

Camels parked and unsaddled for the night.

These guys were ready to go to sleep already...probably were the camels that we were on!

Bedouin just relaxing after a day with the tourists!

On our way back in the car we saw a beautiful sunset. We were so tired we didn't even want to stop.

St. Catherine's Monastary - The Second Day

2008-04-16T20:48:00.042+03:00

As the sun rose over the Gulf of Aqaba and the Mountains of Saudi Arabia the air was hot and dry. The sky was not clear which, at first, I was disappointed. But later in the day the sandy haze proved to be blessing in disguise.

Behind the hotel at sunrise.

I really hate when donkeys cross the road when you're trying to get somewhere! They're in no hurry, our driver, Mahmoud, was very patient. Photo taken through the windshield.

At least it wasn't the camel caravan crossing the road.

Mahmoud really was a very patient man. He stopped whenever we yelled, 'look'! We wanted to take a photo of a scenic overview and these Bedouin girls popped out of nowhere. They wanted money or lipstick.

She was very beautiful...certainly needed no lipstick.

This boy was at the entrance to St. Catherine's Protectorate. St. Catherine's lies at the foot of Mount Sinai where it is said that Moses received the 10 Commandments. St. Catherine's is the oldest continuing monastery in the world and is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is Greek Orthodox and contains some of the oldest icons in the world dating back to the 5th and 6th century.

The official name of this site is The Sacred and Imperial Monastery of the God-Trodden Mount of Sinai. It was built by Emperor Justinian I between 527 and 565. It encloses the Chapel of the Burning Bush where St. Helena, Constantine's mother, ordered it to be built.

The site is associated with Catherine of Alexandria, a Christian martyr. Her relics were purported to be transported there by an angel.

Bedouin cab drivers waiting for a fare. They will drive you a distance to get to St. Catherine's Monastery. We preferred to walk.
I was surprised at how little commercialization there was at St. Catherine's. Only six or seven shops, all with the same buyers it seemed, were selling souvies.
After Donna and I paid our Egyptian pound to get into the WC we saw this sign hanging on the wall above the washstand. Alot of good it did for those poor people without mong. I didn't have mong but still had to pay! Seriously though, we were miffed that every time we had to go we had to pay. But then again we were in the middle of the Sinai where water is not so abundant....neither was toilet paper.

Across from the Monastery are these beautiful rock formations.

St. Catherine's with Mt. Sinai in the background.

Camel-flouge

It was very crowded inside of the church itself. In fact, we were herded by Bedouin through very quickly. The inside was uniquely, kitschy beautiful. Icons, lanterns, gold and glitz everywhere. We were only allowed in the church that day, the rest was closed off due to the upcoming Greek Orthodox Easter on April 27.

The entrance to the church. No photo's, no talking once you cross the threshold.

Monastery in its entirety. Last ditch effort to sell us some alabaster items. This blog entry is the first half of the first full day. Check back tomorrow for the second half of our first day. Lot's more to come.