Free Day!!!

Shalom chaverim,

Today was a long and eventful day, and it was also one of our free days in Jerusalem. My day started early with a walk down to the Catholic cemetery to see Oskar Schindler's grave. I got there, after half an hour, and there was a huge padlock around the gate (yes I have pictures). I figured that it just was not open yet, since it was 8:30 in the morning, so I planned a return trip later in the day. Instead, as I walked back to the hotel for some breakfast, I passed Mt. Zion and went in to see what is traditionally King David's tomb. It was very interesting, because it was set up for prayer with a men's side and a women's side. There was a wooden divider between the two, dividing the room equally. The tomb itself was huge, with a cloth on it and plastic protecting the cloth. I figured that the room was divided equally because the wooden divider actually divided the star of David on the cloth in half. This way both men and women can pray at King David's tomb and touch it, if they chose. It was a tiny little room, but it was interesting to see. I am glad I stopped by, though I did wish that I had seen Oskar Schindler's grave in the process.

After breakfast I joined Professor Schindler and her son Jakob to go to an archaeological museum, which turned out to be closed because the power was out, technical difficulties. Instead, we went to a place called the Burnt House, where they found a house that was burnt by the Romans in 70, during the destruction of Jerusalem. It was cool to see a first century house, and they think that the level we saw was actually the basement. They had a very kid friendly presentation of the house, which is a movie that tells a possible story that could have been attached to the house. The archaeologists surmise that this might have been the house of a priest, and the story they came up with had some conflict between the priest father and the Zealot son. Everybody but the son ends up being killed by the Romans and the Temple is burned, which can be seen from the window. There was a bit of a Zionist slant to the story, explaining how the people of Israel will return one day and the children will play in the streets because it is their birthright(though it never uses the word). It ended with pictures of Jewish children in modern Jerusalem. I found it to be very interesting, and i was glad I went. the Zionist slant was subtle, but it was definitely there, which makes sense considering we were in the Jewish quarter of the Old City. I actually thought it was a nice explanation of the pain that the Jewish people may feel/have felt with the loss of Jerusalem, and it did no without being over the top or putting down another group of people (like the Muslims) as I have heard elsewhere.

After the museum we went searching for another museum in the same chain of museums (we thought our ticket price included that one). I learned something in this search. Before allowing somebody to give you directions, make sure it is free. One man came up to us and insisted on guiding us to the museum, and as we are half-way there, he starts talking about how this is his job and Prof. Schindler should give him money, even a few shekels would do, and "you will give me something, even a few shekels." She tried to talk him into leaving us and that we could find it ourselves, but he insisted. In the end, she gave him a few coins to get rid of him. The irony...we ended up not going to the museum because it was too old for Jacob and close to 2000 years too late in time for Prof. Schindler's or my interests. this episode put me more on guard with the men of Jerusalem.

At this point, I split form them and tried Schindler's grave again, resulting in nothing. The padlock remained, convincing me that I am not going to see it, because I don't know where to go to ask for it to be unlocked. I continued back into the Old City, now in search of lunch, and perhaps Christ Church (the Anglican church). I was interested to see if they had any services during the week, but they don't have anything that I can do with our schedule that is in English. Then, I backtracked a bit into the Armenian quarter and ducked into a little Armenian restaurant. I wasn't really sure what Armenian food was, but the menu on the wall looked promising. As I sat and looked at the menu, knowing that they do not accept credit cards, I realized that i should count my cash. I had 26 shekels and 20 cents, which was enough for the cheapest appetizer (Armenian pizza, which is not recognizable as pizza but apparently very good) and some baklava plus the tip. So, that is what I ordered, and it was not enough to fill me up, but it was very good and some AMAZING baklava. So, I handed the man my last shekel and left in pursuit of an ATM so I could grab some more food somewhere.

In search of the ATM, I wandered the streets of the market place throughout multiple quarters of Jerusalem. I had no idea where I was, but I did have a map in my pocket for when I decided to find my way. Along the way, most of the shopkeepers called out to me asking me to come into their shops. I discovered that telling them I spent my last shekel on lunch stopped a number of people. Some said that they woud accept plastic, and then I had to say I wasn't interested. In the process of walking, though, I had some very interesting conversations. I suppose the look on my face was getting to be a little unhappy and angry by the time one particular shopkeeper, Ahmed, hailed me. Somehow he convinced me to go and chat with him in his shop (small shop so very visible from the street). I kept telling him I had not money, and he says, I would like to give you a gift. I say, "but I have no money," and he says, "no it is a present, no charge." I didn't quite understand or believe this, and kept protesting that I had no money. He proceeded to explain that it was a gift, a present, and he then said ti in a few other languages. He says, "I just want to see you smile" "I just want you to be happy" "You are right to be careful with most people, but I want to be your friend" "This is a gift, and you can remember me and my shop the next time you come to Jerusalem." He went and got a basket of beads and picked out a few and twisted a wire through them making me a pendant, and gave this to me as a gift. I have to admit, it did succeed in making me smile and making me happy. I will remember this day fondly in part because of him and can think well of Jerusalem's men. After I left his shop I chatted with a few more people, and I was asked three times in a row by three different men what I study and then what religion I am. When I told them Christian, they all seemed pleased, so I have a hunch that i was in the Christian quarter. The first of the three was Ahmed and the third was a man who I talked to for about 20 minutes a little farther down the street. This man was older, perhaps in his 60s or 70s, and he did not try to sell m anything. We started talking about school and that I am going to be a pastor. He started talking about a friend of his who is studying to be a priest. He then proceeds to act like many other people and gives advice. He told me stories about why I should not ever start to smoke or drink. At one point he asked me why I chose to be a pastor, and I told him that I believe it is what God wants me to do. At this he became very pleased and said "That is an excellent answer." It was important to him to say to me over and over that I must not listen to my friends and just to God. Most of the rest of the conversation revolved around doing what God wants you to do because otherwise you will never ever be happy with your life, don't ever smoke because you hurt others, and don't ever drink. Eventually the guy studying to be a priest walked down the street. It turns out that he was from South Dakota and about my age, but he was in a hurry to get somewhere, so we had no time to chat. Before he could run off, however, the shopkeeper had us write down a phrase that he sai was very important. "God gives us life as a gift, what we have to do is to look after our life as a gift to God." I have to admit, I never expected to end up in a conversation about Christianity with a random stranger on the street or a conversation about faith and following God. It isn't something that happens everyday in the US, and I have no idea if it is normal here. It is true that I have these conversations all the time, but usually I at least know the person before, if even for a few minutes. It was fun though. I do not regret those twenty minutes and am glad he hailed me. I wonder what it says about a city that people will hail strangers and then get into religious conversations with them. It does seem appropriate to Jerusalem, though it also seems like it would be a stereotype. I guess stereotypes are based on truth.

After wandering around for about 45 more minutes, I returned to Jaffa Gate, where I was meeting some of my group and Prof. Arnold to re-visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We all wanted to go into the tomb, after being cut off yesterday. We arrived at about 2:10, and did not get into the tomb until after 4. When we arrived, an Armenian mass was going on right in front of the tomb, and parts were inside the tomb. None of us knew that it was an Armenian mass until much later when somebody asked. The best I was able to deduce was that it was not Greek but it was Orthodox. We watched this for some time, then went to explore the church a bit while we waited. The main place we explored was the chapel devoted to St. Helen, who traditionally found the true cross. We actually had a lot of fun in that deserted chapel. Prof. Arnold, Jon, and I had some fun trying to guess what the paintings on the wall were supposed to be and why the same old guy was in all of them, but dressed differently. They seemed to be strange paintings that mixed old and later clothing on the people in the paintings. We never did figure them out, though I found one on the internet as the finding of the cross (for some reason, Helen was not in the picture). We never did find out who the old guy was. We did, however, observe that the Armenian bishop was dressed like Dumbledore with a shorter beard. Actually, Prof. Arnold pointed out that he looked like a wizard, and we ran with it from there. He did have on a very purple robe with a black cape-like thing and a black somewhat-pointy hat. Eventually, we heard what sounded like movement from the Armenians. We rushed back to discover that they had just started with the incense. We watched through the rest of the service, where they did processions and distributed the communion elements to the waiting people, who were presumably Armenian. Eventually, they left and we lined up very quickly to get into the tomb of Jesus.

We were close to the front of the line, so we got in fairly quickly at this point. You walk into a small door of what looks like a cubic ornate tiny church. When you get inside, there is a small rock (I don't know what it is) with two candles on it. From there, you go a few people at a time into a tiny room through a door about 4 feet high. When you get through there, you see the platform rock where many people believe Jesus was laid in the tomb. There are many flowers and candles and decorations at the platform. There is also a piece of cloth that said christos anickte, which mean Christ is Risen, in Greek. Many people pray there, and I even saw the man who left just before I went in crawling backwards when he left the small room, kissing the floor between every step. He did not walk until he reached the first room inside the small church-like building. It was pretty cool to be in there, even though I don't know for sure that this was definitely the place where Jesus' body laid. Sometimes, just having a place to go and remember and pray is enough. In the end, some of my classmates said that it was anticlimactic, since we had to wait so long. I thought it was still worth it, and that I am glad I went. I got to see much of an Armenian mass, discuss mysterious pictures on a wall, and remember Easter at a place that is very very holy to many denominations of Christendom. I would call that a successful trip. A bit more exploration of the city later, we went back to the hostel for dinner, packing, and soon bed.

Tomorrow we go to a Bedouin camp to sleep in tents. I will not have a blog up tomorrow night, though I will hopefully catch up the following night.

Shalom, L'hitraot.