Single Step

The Frenkels moved to Jerusalem in 1960 and met while studying at the Hebrew University. He worked as a journalist for the Jerusalem Post, including the time during the wars of ’67 and ’73, while she stayed at home to raise their three children. Etha spent the better part of the first morning of the 6 Day War in the basement shelter waiting for someone from the kindergarten to bring her daughter home. And then until 4:00 pm to bring her son home. She was told not to leave the house and her children would be returned to her when it was safe. These were tense times, she recalls. He worked 16 hour days with classified information that he was not free to share with his family.

One early morning a young Palestinian mother and entrepreneur shared her emotional story of reconciliation and restoration with us. In 1948 when Israel became an independent nation, most of her grandfather’s property was exappropriated by the Israelis for undisclosed use. It was a story she had heard told many times as a child by her grandmother. When a young Israeli man asked her to consider opening her grandfather’s remaining property to run as an inn, she scoffed at him and expressed her deep offense at his suggestion. But he persisted and her mother wrote up a contract. The family finally settled with the refugees, who were living in the house, by buying them a home so they would vacate the the old home. She told us that once refugees move into a residence, the owner cannot evict the family until the original squatters die. She and “the Jew” became business partners and together they are unifying the town by their example and their community contributions. The story still brings tears, she tells us.

Mr. Mario owns two houses in the West Bank and rents one to a young American family. He has lived in this land as long as he can remember and has brought up his five daughters and two sons to love Jesus just like he does. The best moments of his day are spent tending his olive grove and surrounding gardens. Like most Palestinians living in occupied territory, he does not have a passport. That’s because he does not have a country.

As we journey through this diverse and geographically stunning land and meet its resilient people, we become ever more aware of the religious and political and social complexities that are a normal part of life here. I feel like an innocent child in comparison to my Israeli and Palestinian friends who have lost so much and yet continue to hope. We were told today that the characteristic that marks Canadians most is their hopefulness. I would have to say we are not the only ones.

As for our other adventures, we headed toward the coast today and on the way decided to visit yet another set of ruins. Climbing to the top of the town for the best views, we happened upon a Belgian film crew creating a documentary on Israeli and Palestinian bands. Let me be clear. These bands are made up of a unique collection of musicians. To be more precise, they include Jews, Christians and Arabs. I wish I could share with you what we heard.

Next we headed north to the Lebanese border to the Grotto. Then to Akko for a walk through the Crusader ruins.

While in Akko we indulged in an unforgettable eating experience. The menu was open and for an hour and a half the waiter brought us sample dishes from the sea. Delicious!

And finally we are settling into our hotel in Haifa. We just want to say what a joy it is to have you following along with us. Many of you have emailed and said hello. Thank you for taking the time to do that. We are very aware that you are seeing Israel through our eyes and we try to present the people and land honestly and respectfully. Shalom

Today we circumnavigated the Sea of Galilee where much of Jesus’ ministry took place. Biblical townships dot the landscape as we meander through the hills and stop at ruins along the way. The lake itself reminds us of Okanagan Lake with its summer seadoos, powerboats and waterskiers and there were sunbathers aplenty in this 35 degree heat.

Since we were too early to check in at our Korazim bed and breakfast we headed further south and stopped at Beth She’an where King Saul and his sons lost their lives in battle. David eventually took the city and many years later the Romans rebuilt it. The ruins are some of the best preserved in Israel.

On our way up the mountain made famous for Jesus’ sermon we took a side trip to the Church of the Beatitudes. The fully manicured grounds and peaceful setting made it my favorite stop so far. If ever there were a perfect setting for impacting all of humankind with the radical news of the Kingdom, this is it!

The day is closing as we sip lemonade made from our hosts’ lemon trees, looking out over the Sea of Galilee, thinking of family and friends at home, and thanking God for eternal treasures.

If you can imagine isolation in a desert, near a vast body of water from which you cannot drink, atop a 350 metre mountain, surrounded on all sides by Roman encampment, at the end of a three year seige, with 960 rebel fighters, mostly Samaritans and Essenes, but also their children and mamas, grandmas and rabbis and old men and fathers, you have a pretty good picture of the setting of a massive suicide that prompted the Masada memorial.

At 4:45 am we were already climbing the Snake Trail that led 1000 feet up the cliffside and at 5:30 we reached the summit in order to catch the sunrise. Bar Mitzvahs were already in progress with all the singing that goes with, school groups that arrived by bus gathered for photos, and an air force commissioning service readied to commence.

First built as a hide-out for the Hasmoneans, then as a winter palace for Herod and family, the fortress ruins are elaborate with cisterns for rain collection, ritual baths and even a swimming pool. The winter palace construction marvels architects today and reminds this Tolkien fan, of the White City as portrayed in Peter Jackson’s interpretation as seen in his film, The Two Towers.

Just a few km north of Masada lies the En Gedi Kibbutz. It is the only living community botanical garden in the world and houses about 500 people, and comes complete with theater, secondary school, hotel and zoo.

We planned to reach Nazareth by day’s end so made our way north, thankful for air conditioning in the 36 degree heat. I left Gord to all the driving and navigating as I was suffering from heat exhaustion and was quite useless. I am feeling much better today but am ever more aware of the importance of hydration and staying out of the heat as much as possible.

We said good-bye to Jordan and hello to Israel this morning as we traveled the 200km from Petra to the Jordan/Israeli border. It was a quiet crossing through the razor wired gates, through no-man’s-land and into the Negev. Highway 90 took us north along the Jordanian border and into the Dead Sea (refrained from the salty dip) and finally to our youth hostel in Masada. Before you comment on the fact that our youth is far behind us, let me just say that older folk are welcome here too.

The hostel was built by the Israeli government and is also an educational centre for students and soldiers. It is the only accommodation this close to Masada and we hope to hike to the top by sunrise.

Masada’s story is a jewel in Israel historical crown and one that embodies well the spirit of the people.

More on Masada tomorrow. We are off to the pool in this 36 degree desert heat to cool down.

The alarm rang at 3:15 a.m. And we were up, showered, dressed and waiting for the airport shuttle by 3:45. We picked up a half dozen other sleepy passengers and headed to Ben Gurion Airport for our flight to Eilat.

The plane was a rickety 757 that had seen better days but it landed without incident an easy hour after take-off. From there we took a cab to the Jordanian border. We were two of only 5 people among dozens who were not a part of an organized tour group and it took us awhile to figure out the system for us independent types. Even so, it did nothing to speed up a very slow process.

I wanted to bring out the camera but there was a young Jordanian soldier (among many) slouched in a plastic garden chair with a large machine gun on his laptop looking quite bored. Gord discouraged me from any photography as he did not want to risk the excitement.

Once into Jordan, we took another cab into Aqaba to Thrifty rentals and arranged a car. One of the attendant’s young sons sat in the office with me while Gord (whom they call Jordan) inspected the vehicle. I brought out my maple sugar candy to share and when they learned we were Canadians the father recalled his 3 years living in Dubai rooming with a Canadian university professor who cooked him Canadian steak and potatoes. He turned out to be very helpful in advising us on where to buy water and fill up the car. The car itself is a compact thing that has seen much better days.

The way to Petra by road is not complicated. First, the Desert Highway, then the King’s Highway and we found ourselves on its doorstep. The surreal part is what is in between. My attempts at photos just do not do it justice. Camels, donkeys, sheep, chickens and goats feed on clumpy brown shrubs and we wonder how any living thing finds water here. Bedouin black tents dot the sand-colored landscape and some low growing crop patches roll along the rocky slopes.

We were grateful for the road signs indicating the way. Getting lost was not a welcome thought.

We arrived at about 2:00, checked into an oasis of a hotel called the Petra Moon, bought a park pass and tickets for a Petra by Night tour, grabbed a Greek salad and took a nap!

They say Petra is one of the top 10 places you should see before you die and we don’t really buy into the whole bucketlist thing but the comment still puts an eager anticipation in us. It is quite something to think that the entire nation of Israel under Moses likely came this way over the Jordan River and into Canaan. It is also fascinating to travel a route that others have for thousands of years.

Years ago on my first Middle Eastern visit, I had no money and little courage so when I could have ridden a camel, I didn’t. Funny the things you regret. this time I have a little more of both so we used camel transport to see parts of this incredible place.

We hope you enjoy the photos.

There are some parts of our experience we cannot easily convey. They are the sounds and smells of the city. For instance, I write this from the courtyard garden of St. Andrews Scottish Guesthouse and we can hardly hear each other speak due to the raucous of our feathered friends.

Walking outside the city walls where traffic hums and and drivers accentuate every turn, every light change, every ‘cousin’ vehicle it seems, with a heavy hand on the horn, leads us to believe that when culturally constant conversation is no longer available, the horn serves a secondary choice of voice.

Inside the walls, the Arab market rings with vendors’ calls to sample and buy. Child Labour laws are ineffectual here so children offer the same. Yesterday we saw two boys selling tiny Easter-colored live chicks; purple, orange, pink, and green, with the promise of good laying hens in a few short weeks.

At several points during the past week we have found ourselves in the midst of an outburst of song, drumbeat and clapping. It seems the Israelis love to celebrate out loud and do that with remarkable frequency. The first was in celebration of a Bar Mitzvah, another was a lively hallelujah chorus sung up to 15 times a day just to say thanks, yet another was a Going-to-the-Wall tune that made me wish I was in on the fun.

On every boulevard, every street corner, every block, olive trees and roses, snap dragons and rosemary, thyme and lavender grow and bloom in vibrant colors and fragrance. The breeze is thick with it. Rounding a corner also brings wafts of urine, pot, cigarette smoke and garbage. The heat and closeness of humanity create people odours; too long without a shower, perfume, laundry soap, and whatever is being consumed at that moment.

Noon approaches and garlic, tomato, dill and fish aromas quicken our appetites.

We take it all in as part of the expression of place and people and the joy and experience of simply being present, here, in a foreign land.

It’s never a day like any other when one travels even though a person does some of the ordinary every day sorts of things. For example, we met a friend of our son’s for lunch. Pretty normal, right? Turns out he’s the Executive Director for the World Evangelical Alliance in the Middle East. Not so normal.

We spent the morning exploring two gardens. Normal. The first consists largely of olive trees dating back 2000 years and is thought to be the place where Jesus agonized over his call to the cross. Not so normal.

The second garden, overlooked by a rock face that resembles a large skull, houses a hand-hewn cave that once served as a tomb. I admit we don’t often see that sort of thing at home but here in Jerusalem it’s not unusual to bury someone in a cave. So, I am still going to call that this side of normal. The tomb is empty because its occupant rose from the dead. That’s pretty not-normal in anyone’s books.

After lunch we hopped on the train and rode it from one end of town to the other. Normal. A young Hebrew student from France studying at the Hebrew university struck up a conversation with us as we overheard the mother and daughter across from us discussing, in Russian, shoe styles (I knew by their gestures). My guess is that were at least six languages spoken within easy earshot and even more types of dress. Not so normal where I come from.

The Mamila Mall is an open-air shopping centre near the Jaffa Gate and when we moved to Cafe Cafe for lunch, we accidently left our backpack on the amphitheatre steps. Who hasn’t lost something? Pretty normal, right? Apparently, no one touches, let alone steals an abandoned bag. Rather, a bomb squad is sent in, the area is sealed off and the pack is surrounded by robots with small guns that simultaneously shoot into the pack and shred it to bits. Not your normal response in Ladysmith. Thankfully, it was still there when we went back.

It is the start of Shabbot, and Jerusalem is winding down. Rest and good food and contemplative nourishment (rich fare around here) are aspects of normal we would like to cultivate and so we may just join our neighbours in creating vacation space for Shabbot. A new and most welcome normal.

Shabbot Shalom

I don’t know about you but I love discovering treasure. I met a woman last week who picked up a silver beaded charm after a Sunday morning service and after attempting to find the owner and could not, was tickled to tuck it into her collection.

Quite a number of years ago, a young archeologist dug under my guesthouse bedroom and found a silver necklace in a grave site. On it was inscribed the blessing in ancient Hebrew from the book of numbers and is dated around 3000 BCE.

“The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord smile on you and gift you. The Lord look you full in the face and make you prosper.” Numbers 6:24-26 (The Message)

It was the treasure of a lifetime.

Though somewhat less dramatic, today we were on the hunt for treasure of another kind; the discovery of an underground aqueduct..

The old City of David sits between two valleys outside the walls of the Old City and is an archeological dig of importance. It is also the place where King Solomon beat Adonijah for the kingship and the mitvah, called the Gihon Spring was immortalized in Hebrew scripture. In the time of King Hezekiah, under threat of Assyrian attack, a tunnel for water transport under David’s City  was chiselled out between the valleys. It’s true that many others have waded through the waters before us but it felt like discovering treasure as we made our way from one side to the other along the winding limestone enclosure, knee deep in cool, clear, running water.

Next, we hooked up with a Western Wall Underground tour where scientists have uncovered the entire Western Wall of the First Temple Period deep enough to reveal original natural dressed stone from Solomon’s day. Parts of these tunnels were also waterways and the cisterns still serve to store water in the Old City. In the Jewish world, the hidden sections of the Wall discovered brings the Holy of Holies that much closer.

On our way back to the Scottish Church Guesthouse we popped in at the Austria Hospice House for strudel and cappacino, then wandered through the King David Hotel and arrived to find our laundry done, our room windows open to the terraced rose garden, and the Jerusalem Post awaiting us in the lounge.

It’s been another satisfying day in Jerusalem.