I spent the morning walking around inside the walls of the Old City. It's a maze of cavernous, arched alleys, riddled with street vendors, tourists, and locals of various faiths of the Book making the daily trek to their sites of worship. The vendors seemed tense. Not so quick with jokes or smiles, but not pushy either. In front of a falafel stand, I raised my camera to a blank wall to measure the light. The boy working in the stand yelled, "No photo." I turned and looked at him, wondering what objection he could possibly have to a foreigner aiming his camera at a blank wall. The boy's face registered a small look of surprise when I spoke to him in Arabic. "Why?" I asked. "Aaschen hayq," he responded. Because.
It must get pretty annoying to work in a place that's flooded with tourists who are always snapping up shots of your daily life, which they (and I) can't help but see as exotic, fascinating, quaint. But, the Old City is a tourist area, right? Perhaps a highly spiritualized and politicized tourist area, where you can cut through the tension with a knife, but a tourist trap nonetheless. Tourists take photos — it's what we do. Get over it.
I sat on a wicker stool with a group of old men and ate a falafel under the vaulted arcade that leads up to the Dome of the Rock. I drank a cup of Arabic coffee and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. I watched Muslims pass back and forth to the mosque — the second holiest site in Islam — for Friday prayers. Occasionally a Jew would pass by, only to be turned away by an Israeli soldier and armed security guard at the gate. The Dome of the Rock is reserved exclusively for Muslims on Fridays, the Muslim holy day.
I was turned away by the same guards, in fact. And not so pleasantly, either. I approached the steps, and wasn't even going to enter, and a private guard lunged up from his stool. "It's closed! Muslims only today." "Okay," I said. I stood on the step, catching a glimpse of the stunningly intricate blue and gold paintwork on the side of the mosque. "BYE!" the guard shouted at me. Immediately, the soldier chimed in, "bye bye!" He shooed me away with his hand. I stood there, transfixed, on the edge of rage. A vendor had a toy stand inches away from the soldier and guard, so I asked, "I can't stand on the steps?" "No." "What if I want to buy something from this stand?"
They begrudgingly said, "Okay." I told them that they didn't have to be so rude. They stared at me blankly. I should have asked them why they behave that way, why they would be so hostile to a foreign visitor, or anyone for that matter. It wouldn't have done any good. And maybe there's something I don't understand about why they behave that way. Whatever the reason, that type of behavior doesn't put the best face on Israel.
This Friday is a Jewish holiday called Shavuot, so the Old City was packed with orthodox on their way to the Western Wall, or Wailing Wall — the last remnant of the 2nd temple, destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. The orthodox have different styles of dress depending on where their families came from in Europe. Men wear big black hats, mostly wide-brimmed variations on the homburg and fedora, usually made of felt or velvet. But a certain group, I'm not sure which, wears giant circular fur hats that I never get tired of staring at. I know it's not nice to stare, but these things are amazing. I'm going back to the Old City this afternoon to try to get some more photos of them.
There is a checkpoint before the entrance to the Wailing Wall area. There is a metal detector and there are armed guards. Something about the presence of armed guards at the entrance to a holy area, a peaceful sanctuary, seems contradictory to me. Call me crazy, but I'm sure it's not what God intended. But where is God in all of this?
Here are some photos from today in the Old City. Look out for more soon.
It must get pretty annoying to work in a place that's flooded with tourists who are always snapping up shots of your daily life, which they (and I) can't help but see as exotic, fascinating, quaint. But, the Old City is a tourist area, right? Perhaps a highly spiritualized and politicized tourist area, where you can cut through the tension with a knife, but a tourist trap nonetheless. Tourists take photos — it's what we do. Get over it.
I sat on a wicker stool with a group of old men and ate a falafel under the vaulted arcade that leads up to the Dome of the Rock. I drank a cup of Arabic coffee and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. I watched Muslims pass back and forth to the mosque — the second holiest site in Islam — for Friday prayers. Occasionally a Jew would pass by, only to be turned away by an Israeli soldier and armed security guard at the gate. The Dome of the Rock is reserved exclusively for Muslims on Fridays, the Muslim holy day.
I was turned away by the same guards, in fact. And not so pleasantly, either. I approached the steps, and wasn't even going to enter, and a private guard lunged up from his stool. "It's closed! Muslims only today." "Okay," I said. I stood on the step, catching a glimpse of the stunningly intricate blue and gold paintwork on the side of the mosque. "BYE!" the guard shouted at me. Immediately, the soldier chimed in, "bye bye!" He shooed me away with his hand. I stood there, transfixed, on the edge of rage. A vendor had a toy stand inches away from the soldier and guard, so I asked, "I can't stand on the steps?" "No." "What if I want to buy something from this stand?"
They begrudgingly said, "Okay." I told them that they didn't have to be so rude. They stared at me blankly. I should have asked them why they behave that way, why they would be so hostile to a foreign visitor, or anyone for that matter. It wouldn't have done any good. And maybe there's something I don't understand about why they behave that way. Whatever the reason, that type of behavior doesn't put the best face on Israel.
This Friday is a Jewish holiday called Shavuot, so the Old City was packed with orthodox on their way to the Western Wall, or Wailing Wall — the last remnant of the 2nd temple, destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. The orthodox have different styles of dress depending on where their families came from in Europe. Men wear big black hats, mostly wide-brimmed variations on the homburg and fedora, usually made of felt or velvet. But a certain group, I'm not sure which, wears giant circular fur hats that I never get tired of staring at. I know it's not nice to stare, but these things are amazing. I'm going back to the Old City this afternoon to try to get some more photos of them.
There is a checkpoint before the entrance to the Wailing Wall area. There is a metal detector and there are armed guards. Something about the presence of armed guards at the entrance to a holy area, a peaceful sanctuary, seems contradictory to me. Call me crazy, but I'm sure it's not what God intended. But where is God in all of this?
Here are some photos from today in the Old City. Look out for more soon.
Orthodox men entering the Old City through the Damascus Gate, on their way to pray at the Wailing Wall
An old man rocks back and forth as he recites the Torah in a tunnel adjacent to the Wailing Wall
Men pray at the Wailing Wall. Tables and plastic chairs are available for those who wish to sit and study Torah.
Israeli soldiers patrol the Arab quarter of the Old City near the Dome of the Rock, Wailing Wall
A woman in traditional Palestinian dress sells fresh mint in the Old City.
1 comment:
The guards probably don't want to be there. Anyone is an imposition. They are probably worried about any kind of incident on their shift.
ELW
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