Rockets, Caesarea, and a Tel Aviv Sunset

Yesterday marked the first rocket attacks (see story here) against Israel from Gaza since we've been here--or at least the first that we've heard of. My talkative cube-mate at work informed me that just before midnight on Wednesday, three grad rockets landed near Ashdod--a city situated along the Mediterranean Sea between Gaza and Tel-Aviv. Ashdod, the ancient Philistine capital from Bible times, had been recommended as a top choice in terms of places to live when we were doing our apartment search. Though no one was hurt and we realize the chances of getting killed via rocket are minimal, we are glad to live outside of Gaza's rocket range here in Tel-Aviv.

Rockets weren't the only story this week--there was also apparently a thwarted stabbing by a Palestinian woman who had waited until after the release of Gilad Shalit (I blogged about the lopsided 1027 for 1 prisoner exchange last week - you can read it here, if interested) to make her attempt.

We're learning that these types of things are just part of life here in Israel. I brought up the recent rockets in conversation at the lunch table yesterday only to have my co-workers shrug it off. Nothing new, certainly. As part of this conversation, I learned that our cafeteria (on the first floor of the parking garage) is reinforced as a shelter against attacks--as are the centrally located conference rooms and the stairwells. Even residential homes have reinforced rooms in which families can take shelter when the warning sirens are active. My talkative cubemate is in the process of building a new home, and complained about the new construction code requiring him to install an (expensive) air filtration system in his home's "protected area" which would, in theory, help protect his loved ones against chemical warfare.

And now, time to catch up a bit. A few weeks ago during the long holiday weekend for Rosh Hashana, we visited Jerusalem (details here) and then Caesarea National Park. Caesarea Maratima was a city and harbor brought to prominence by Harod "the Great" 25 or so years BC. Today, some of the ruins can be seen by visitors like us.

Caesarea National Park is located just 40 minutes or so north of Tel Aviv. 40 minutes without traffic, that is. After cruising along northbound on the 4-lane Israeli highway 2, traffic came to a screetching halt due to an accident up ahead. And, in a China-esque moment, people actually began driving in REVERSE in order to reach an already-passed exit ramp in order to avoid the mayem. We stayed the course, however, and arrived in Ceasarea about 30 minutes behind schedule.

Named to honor the Caesar, Caesarea became the seat of the Roman prefect and grew to a size of approximately 125,000 people--including Pontius Pilate, who resided there. The city boasted a large man-made harbor which included a 400m breakwater, a theatre which could (and still can) accommodate 4000 spectators, and a "hippodrome" in which 30,000 fans could cheer on their favorite chariots during races.

Here's a picture of some of the ruins at Caesarea National Park.

Here is a Bosian Mosque at Caesarea (built much later than Harod's day).

Here is a sign noting the Apostle Paul's appeal to Caesar, which took place in Caesarea as documentated in Acts 25.

And here is the view that Paul may have had while making his case to Festus. Paul spent two years in prison here in Caesarea before sailing to Rome to eventually have his case heard by Caesar.

According to one of the two maps we were given at the national park, this is the chariot-race enabling hippodrome. According to the second map, this was the Herodean Ampitheater. And if the second map is correct, we missed the actual hippodrome.  

And here are some ruins near the bathouse of Caesarea.

Some other Bibilcal references to Caesarea include but are not limited to: Philip the evangelist preaching there (Acts 8:40) and Herod Agrippa dying in Caesarea and then being "eaten by worms" (Acts 12:20-23).

One problem with the city's location was that there was no fresh water source nearby. To remedy this, the Romans built an aqueduct to channel water in from a spring 7.5km away. The aqueduct was quite an engineering feat--maintaining a grade of 20cm per 1km, which required it to be elevated by stone archways in low-lying areas. We didn't see the aqeduct first-hand since it was outisde of the park and Sammy wasn't in the mood for additional sight-seeing, but if you're interested in seeing what it looks like, click here.

While our quick trip to Casarea was interesting and eye-opening, we spent much of the afternoon trying to keep our little Sammy happy. He was having a bit of a fussy day.

And here is little Sam on his bumbo while sporting his first clothing purchase here in Israel. The shirt says, in Hebrew "Rehov Soomsoom" (or sohmsohm--I have trouble discerning the vowels), which apparently means Sesame Street.

And now back to the present. We are currently watching a ridiculously entertaining Game 6 of the World Series on a 17 hour time delay. So far, we've avoided facebook and most websites (except blogger, of course) in order to not spoil the outcome. But, we did spot a game 7 on the TV guide for 1:30am tomorrow, and saw a snippet on the news about a historic 11-inning game, so we are hoping that this means the Cardinals must've pulled it out. Assuming a win, we've got to make a decision about whether to stay up and watch game 7 live, or to watch tomorrow evening with a delay.

Oh and one interesting tidbit from this afternoon... Nicki had met a neighbor of ours the other day and ended up having quite an extended conversation with her. This afternoon, while walking back from the beach we spotted this neighbor in passing on the sidewalk. She greeted Nicki and introduced herself to me, but didn't have time to chat. As she hurried away, Nicki and I compared notes on what she'd uttered, and agreed that she'd said something about being a shabbat keeper and lighting candles. With a quick google search after we reached our apartment, we realized that she was racing home to light her shabbat candles, which must be lit 18 minutes prior to sunset on Friday.

And speaking of sunsets, below is a time lapse video from tonight's (early) sunset here in Tel Aviv. I say early because the sun currently sets around 5pm due to the fact that Israel executes daylight savings time earlier than the rest of the world. We've learned that this is a rule enacted by the ultra-religous minority to encourage more Jews to participate in the Yom Kippur fast. This year's Yom Kippur was particularly early in the Gregorian calendar, which caused some tension between and in a petition to change the rules.

Here is a quote from a story regarding the daylight savings controversy:

"Never mind that you think it's still hot. In two weeks, winter will arrive," Strasler wrote. "In that, Israel is unique. Only here can a minority community of observant Jews bend the will of the majority and turn the height of summer into winter, at least officially. The sun refuses to obey."

If that piqued your interest, see here for the full story, and here for our experience on Yom Kippur in case you missed it.

Ok, back to that sunset. Nothing spectacular, but it is always amazing to watch and tonight was fun to capture. My new Nikon D5100 has an intervalometer, so I set it up to take a picture every 7 seconds and then put the 120 or so pictures together in Windows Movie Maker.

And lastly, below are some additional pictures of the ruins of Caesarea if you're interested.

A Long Story...

10/17/11 (or 17/10/11 as it would be denoted here in Israel, which makes for extra confusion on my part during the first 12 days of each month)--the day Gilad Shalit was released from captivity in Gaza. Unless you've been living under a rock, you've no doubt heard the story...1027 Palestinian prisoners exchanged for the release of a single Israeli soldier who'd been held captive in a secret dungeon in Gaza for the past five years.

I first heard of the story last week from one of my cube-mates. There are three of us who share a cubicle at work, and while I've only spoken to my other cube-mate a couple of times, this one and I always seem to find ourselves discussing the topics considered taboo in the American workplace--religion, politics, you name it. My talkative cubemake was looking forward to the exchange, and explained how Shalit's release would be a jubilant occasion in Israel. Since then, I've polled several co-workers regarding their thoughts on the situation. In alignment with the statistics we'd heard on the news, most of them agreed with the swap, citing feelings for the family & an overriding solidarity amongst Israelis. One voiced strong opposition, and another said she was "ambivalent".

As an American, I initially found myself baffled at how this Israelis could be at ease with this lopsided exchange. Sure, I empathize with the Shalit family, but with more than a thousand convicted terrorists and murderers back on the streets, how many other families may be adversely impacted by this decision in the future?

That being said, I'm not sure I'm qualified to voice such an opinion. After all, I've lived my thirty-two years in a relative safety bubble. I've never had a friend or family member killed by war or act of terror. I've never served my country in conflict. And, I've never lived in a place where people in surrounding countries openly hate me. The story is deeper than Gilad Shalit, and so far I've been somewhat oblivious to its depth.

The evening Shalit was released, I needed to go to work in the middle of the night. Our first production material was going to arrive at my area, so I needed to be on-site. And since it takes a quarter tank of gas for the round trip, I stopped to fill up the car. The gas station attendant asked me what I thought of Gilad Shalit being released--and, not knowing what to say, I replied "it is a happy day". He agreed, and smiled widely.

On the way from our apartment in Tel Aviv to our factory in Kiryat Gat, just 20 miles or so from Gaza, I came across a police blockade of the highway. Seeing two soldiers with heavy guns strapped around their shoulders, I stopped my car and wondered what was going on. Four men had been pulled over, and seemed to be waiting while the guards were checking their documentation. I asked the guards in English whether or not I needed to stop, and the bearded one turned to me for a split second and muttered something in Hebrew. Then, the second guard turned at said "Have a good night". I got back in the car and headed off, figuring that I'd just been let through based on my appearance.

Once at work, I asked some of the night shift technicians about the encounter. They informed me that the guards were likely part of the border patrol unit, and were probably busting some workers illegally sneaking into Israel to work. They confirmed that I was likely given a free pass from having to show my documentation due to being "white".

Later, around 3:30am, I asked one of the technicians what he thought about the Gilad Shalit situation, and he paused, then replied: "It's a long story...".  He then asked me if I was familiar with the Bible and referenced the conflict between Abraham's sons (see Genesis 16-17)--Isaac (father of the Israelites) and Ishmael (father of the Arabs). Here we are 4000 years later, and the conflict is still being played out.

I must say that I admire the solidarity of the Israelis. Perhaps it is in part due to the relatively small size of the country that makes people feel like one large family. Perhaps the fact that most citizens must serve in the military adds to the bond. Perhaps it is due to the fact that the Jews have been the most persecuted people group in the history of the world. Or perhaps it is due to the fact that Israelis feel part of a larger story. I don't pretend to have it all figured out, but I do respect the fact that the Israelis have each others backs, and I can also respect the decision that was made to bring Gilad Shalit home.

On a lighter note, little Sammy boy has hit a new milestone--he can roll over! That is, if you believe Nicki's claims. I personally haven't witnessed an un-aided rollover yet...he seems to have better luck when I'm at work. He is also doing a lot of sucking on his fingers. Sometimes it is a thumb, sometimes a couple fingers, and sometimes both hands!

Sam is also getting some exposure to sports. We cheered on the Cardnials (my older sister Cori and her family's favorite team--check out her blog here...she's been sharing some interesting insights lately about running & life) in Game 1 of the World Series this morning while watching on time delay. We could've watched the game live, but it was on TV at 1:30am our time.

And, here is Sammy supporting his mom and dad's alma mater, the (not so) mighty Cyclones of Iowa State. Notice that he is also wearing long sleeves--a first for him here in Israel. It is now dipping all the way down into the 60's at night here in Tel-Aviv now, so he's feeling a bit chilly...especially with the wind chill from the sea breeze :)

Sukkot at Megiddo and Nazareth

A month ago, I would not have understood much contained in the title of this blog. Now, i'm beginning to, I think. So, allow me to attempt to explain.

Sukkot is a Jewish holiday known as the Feast of Booths, or Feast of Tabernacles. With this holiday comes a long weekend--including a day off of work on Thursday preceeded by another "early release" (the shuttle buses left work at 1pm) on Wednesday.

We utilized our free Thursday to visit Nazareth, the hometown of the young Jesus. And on the way, we stopped off at Megiddo, a fascinating archaelogical site with some sobering events prophesied to take place there in the future.

Back to Sukkot. As one of the appointed festivals mentioned in Leviticus, the Lord, via Moses, asked the Israelites to live in "booths" in remembrance to what He'd done for them during the Exodus from Egypt. Here is the reference from Leviticus 23:42-43...

"Live in temporary shelters for seven days: All native-born Israelites are to live in such shelters so your descendants will know that I had the Israelites live in temporary shelters when I brought them out of Egypt. I am the LORD your God."

To this day, obsevant Jews are still building, eating in, and even sleeping in these booths known as "sukkahs" during Sukkot. In fact we've seen them all over town. Here's one we saw at Megiddo:

And here's another sukkah near the beach in our neighborhood.

There was even a sukkah set up at work, so my co-workers could eat their lunch in obedience, if desired (I didn't see anyone eating there, though...perhaps because there was no air conditioning!). Apparently there are several rules regarding sukkah building. For example, the roof must be made of organic materials and allow visibility to the stars at night. Read here for more sukkah building specifications if you're interested. For the record, no one I talked to this week was planning to sleep in their sukkah.

The trip to Tel Megiddo was a short one--it's about an hour drive northeast from our apartment in Tel Aviv. "Tel" means hill, and seems to also refer to sites at which there are several layers of archaelogical interest. In this case, the tel has 26 layers of ruins! "Megiddo" is a hill overlooking the Valley of Jezreel, and is the site of thousands of years of history.

Situated in an apparently strategic location along an ancient trade route between Egypt and Syria, the city of Megiddo has seen its share of turbulence. The town changed hands many times over the millenia, being controlled by, but not limited to, the Egyptians, Canaanites, Assyrians, Turks, Romans, Palenstinians, and even the British. Megiddo has also witnessed its share of battles--including one in which King Josiah was killed (see 2 Kings 23:29). Gideon, with God's help, conquered the Midianites here (Judges 6:33). And King Saul was killed on nearby Mount Gilboa (1 Samuel 31:8). More recently, if you can call 1918 recent, British General Allenby defeated the Ottoman Turks for control of Palestine during World War I. Now I understand why there is an Allenby street in Tel Aviv.

Looking forward, Megiddo may very well host another battle--the battle of all battles, in fact. John, in the book of Revelation, says the following:

Revelation 16:16: "Then they gathered the kings together to the place that in Hebrew is called Armageddon"

Apparently the Greek word "Armageddon" is likely derived from the Hebrew Har Megiddo, which is Mount of Megiddo. Thus, many Biblical scholars believe that the Battle of Armageddon may take place right here at Megiddo! Yikes, just an hour from where we are living.

Here's a view of the Jezreel Valley from Megiddo. That's Mount Tabor in the background.

Here is a beautiful woman that I spotted at Megiddo. She was carrying a pretty cute kid, too!

Here's a picture of a public grain silo from the time of King Jeroboam II (8th century BC). Notice the access stairs.

Here's another view of Megiddo with Mount Tabor looming in the background.

This is a nearby field. The air at Megiddo smelled so pleasant that we tried to figure out where the aroma was coming from. Perhaps from this field? The birds sure seemed to like whatever was growing here...

One of the most unique and interesting aspects of Megiddo was its water system. While the city's location atop a hill was strategic militarily, it posed a problem in that the city's two water sources were located outside of the city walls. Prior to ~850 BC, residents had to go outside the walls to fetch water. But, King Ahab changed all of that, constructing a shaft & tunnel system which enabled residents of Megiddo to access water without exiting the city walls!

Here's a picture of the warning sign next to the stairway down to Ahab's shaft.

This sign filled us in on the details of the shaft and tunnel system.

Here are modern-day stairs decending into the shaft.

I found the mysterious beautiful woman again, this time braving the water tunnel.

It was difficult to fathom all of this being engineered almost 3000 years ago. Then again, the Chinese were busy building their great wall at that time, I suppose.

One last tidbit regarding Megiddo...In 2005, just a few hundred meters away, in an Israeli military prison of all places--the remains of a church were uncovered. The church dates back to the 3rd century AD, and houses a large mosaic with "the God Jesus Christ" inscribed in Greek. It is perhaps the oldest known Christian church in Israel. I asked the Tel Megiddo National Park employee if we could see it, and he replied "no, its closed today". Based on his response, I inferred that the place must be closed because we were visiting on the Sukkot holiday. But after searching the web, it sounds like the Meggido church is not yet open to the public. You can read more about the church here.

After quick feed with Sammy, we climbed into the car for the short drive to Nazareth. We (especially Sammy) were surpised to find that we needed to climb several hundred feet via the road to enter the city. Nazareth certainly had a more middle-eastern vibe than what we'd experienced in Israel thus far. The city is primarily Arab, with approximately 70% Muslims and 30% Christian. There were also plenty of tourists--most visiting via bus tour. The visitors included Africans, Italians, New Zealanders, and yes, Chinese. In fact, I couldn't help asking some Chinese tourists where they were from and, as it turned out, one of the men was from Dalian--the city we had lived in for 18 of the last 24 months!

In addition to the "it's a small world" feeling that we had from meeting a fellow Dong Bei ren (Northeast Chinese person), I was struck by the fact that people from all over the world were here because of one reason--Jesus Christ. I remember once as a kid, some world-traveling family members informed me that they had essentially decided that faith in Jesus was meaningless after seeing so many other cultures, and how different they all are. After our "world travels", however, I see it quite differently. Jesus is alive in countries all over the world. We've met Nigerians, Koreans, Arabs, Thais, Chinese, etc all with one thing in common--faith in Jesus.

In fact, I'm reminded of a book I read while in China--Faith of our Fathers (no, I don't get any $ if you click on this link..just thought you might want to check it out!). In it, the author makes a case that the early Chinese were decendants of Noah, and knew the Great Flood story and believed in God. He points to evidence such as early Chinese characters--for example, the character for "flood" was depicted as a boat with 8 people in it (which could've signified Noah and his family). Anyway, all that to say that God is at work in our world in ways that we cannot comprehend.

Ok, back to Nazareth (it's hard not to talk about Jesus when you're writing about Nazareth). We happened to park nearby Mahroum--an Arab sweets shop which, according to our guide book, is well known for its baklava. We had no choice but to verify this information, so stopped for a taste. The owner seemed to love little Sammy and let Nicki go behind the counter to make her selections. We tried a few pieces, and even stopped back again on our way out of town to pick up more treats to go!

Here is the famed Mahroum (although the sign says Al-Mahroum in Hebrew...and I'm not sure what is says in Arabic along the bottom...coca-cola?)

And here are the treats we came away with (on our 2nd visit)...the orange ones are made with cheese.

We also made our way to the Basilica of the Annunciation, the site at which the Roman Catholics believe that Mary was made aware of her unexpected pregnancy (Luke 1:26-38). Of course, the Greek Orthodoxy believes that Mary heard the good news at a well down the street.

Here's a view of the Church of the Anunciation. Note the Islamic sign in the foreground.

Here is a picture of the Chinese version of Mary & Jesus. There were mosaics of Mary & Jesus from many countries throughout the world. It made me realize that we (Americans) tend to think of Jesus as a caucasian, which of course He was not.

We also wandered the streets of the Old City of Nazareth. Below are some views to give you an idea of what it looks like. Here is an old Nazareth mansion (??)...

Alleyway in Old Nazareth.

Church in Old Nazareth.

And some old windows. We liked the shadows from the shutters and wires.

After stopping for a quick dinner of hummus and salad, we were on our way back to Tel Aviv. Another interesting day in the Holy Land.



Yom Kippur in Tel-Aviv

It was a quiet weekend. And when I say that it was a quiet weekend...I really mean it. It's now ten days into the new year, which means that it is Yom Kippur--the Jewish Day of Atonement.

Yom Kippur is one of the two "High Holy" days (the other being Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, which I wrote about last week). It originated in Bible times, when, as recorded in Leviticus 27:23, the Lord said to Moses:

"The tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. Hold a sacred assembly and deny yourselves, and present an offering made to the LORD by fire"

The ten days after Rosh Hashana are called the Days of Repentance--or the Days of Awe. In those ten days, Jews can utilize the time to seek spiritual renewal, with the culimination being Yom Kippur.

In those ten days, I learned some interesting tidbits from my co-workers regarding Yom Kippur. In a nutshell, the entire country of Israel shuts down for a 25-hour period. And when I say shuts down, I mean shuts down. There are no cars on the road, all businesses are closed, virtually no one works...and, as my dad informed me via skype yesterday evening, even Tel-Aviv's Ben Gurion airport (the only international airport in Israel) shuts down--there are NO flights in or out of the country.

The reason for the Israel-wide shutdown is to enable Jews to devote time to God--spending the 25 hour period in repentance, fasting, and prayer--with much of the activity happening at the synagogue. That being said, there is a wide spectrum of religiosity here in Israel, especially in Tel Aviv. While some of my co-workers has planned on fasting, others treated it as more as a restful weekend. One said that her kids simply think of Yom Kippur as the "bike holiday"--since they can ride their bikes on the street with no threat of cars.

I was thankful to receive a forewarning from co-workers, urging me not to attempt to drive during the holiday. Apparently in the "more religous areas", one could expect to have rocks thrown at their car for driving on this Holy day. It seemed a bit ironic to me that someone who couldn't brush their teeth on Yom Kippur would think it ok to hurl stones at a passrby in a car, but the rules are the rules, I suppose.

At my company, our factory actually shut down for the holiday--mostly, that is. One guy in our group was assigned Yom Kippur duty--so he stayed at work for nearly 30 hours making sure that things were ok. Not sure how he was chosen to take one for the team, or why three people couldn't each take a 10-hour shift, but I didn't question it.

Another tidbit we learned was in regards to the Yom Kippur war of 1973. Apparently the Egyptians and Syrians craftily utilized the Day of Atonement to launch a surprise attack, which started a ~3-week conflict and most certainly caught Israel off-guard.

Since then, Israel has enacted a service called "silent radio". Silent radio is a real radio station that "listeners" can tune to, but will only hear silence (can you hear silence?)  unless something bad happens. In the event of a conflict or catastrophe, the news will be broadcast--thus, breaking the silence. This service is especially helpful on days like Yom Kippur, when enemies might be scheming surprise attacks. We decided not to tune in this year.

With Yom Kippur quickly approaching, I went for a run just before sundown (the beginning of the holiday)--thinking I better sneak one in since running might be offensive during the big day. As I stopped to turn-around and head back to our apartment, I overheard an asian couple speaking Mandarin and could not resist saying hello. Seeing that they were wearing coats (I was shirtless and covered in sweat), I asked them "nimen leng bu leng"--literally "you cold not cold", but essentially the equivalent "are you cold"? The man replied "hen leng" (very cold) and we both laughed. As it turns out, this Christian Taiwanese couple had just flown in to visit the Holy Land. The woman had been raised in Dallas, and her sister had lived in Portland since her husband worked for Intel. I wished them well, then headed off--later realizing perhaps I should've warned them about Yom Kippur.

After sundown, things got extremely quiet in our neighborhood here in Tel Aviv. With no cars barreling down our busy street, we were able to open our windows and turn off the air conditioning for the FIRST time since moving here a month ago. We were amazed to hear the Mediterranean Sea from our living room, something we had not thought possible! We even spent time on our balony (including Sammy skyping with Grandma & Grandpa B), another first. So far, we were really enjoying Yom Kippur! Other sounds heard included children playing and bikes wizzing by. Here's a shot taken from our balcony around 11pm - you can see that the cars had been replaced with bikes...oh, and the children were still playing at this late hour, something not uncommon here in Israel.

The next morning, Nicki, Sammy, and I went for a nice long walk. Everyone in Tel Aviv, it seemed, was out doing the same thing. We started at Hayarkon Park, then realized that we should be taking advantage of the situation, so then hit the streets.

It was amazing to watch so many families simply being out and about. Walks, bikes, skateboards, picnics (minus the food), songs, and laughter were in abundance. We also saw and heard more birds than we had in the last month--amazing what you notice without the ovear-bearing noise of traffic. Here's some pictures on/near the Ayalon highway, a typically jam-packed 8-lane freeway which runs through the heart of Tel-Aviv.

We did see some Jews who weren't all fun and games on the streets. I had read that men typically wear white on Yom Kippur, a symbol of spiritual purity. Here is a couple that seemed to be on their way back form the synagogue.

 We did see a few cars randomly throughout the day. No rocks were thrown, but the etiquette of drivers seemed to include ensuring that their hazard lights were on--perhaps as a rock-deterrent. We also saw a couple of ambulances and a police car. Other than that, it was all bikes.

We even managed to spot some "funny english"--something that was fairly common in China and had provided much entertainment value. Here in Israel, though, it is few and far between.

Sammy enjoyed his first Yom Kippur. He didn't work and doesn't have any teeth to brush, but he did refuse to fast :) Actually, we learned that he's in the clear--Jewish kids aren't expected to fast until after their Bar/Bat Mitzvah. And, you'll notice that he was certainly wearing white.

All in all, it was a wonderfully relaxing, quiet, and peaceful weekend. Nicki suggested that there should be a monthly Israel-wide shutdown, and I tend to agree.

Rosh Hashanah - Trip to Jerusalem

We rang in the 5722nd Jewish new year (Rosh Hashanah) with a trip to the "city of peace", Jerusalem. And, given the recent Palestinian bid for statehood at the UN, we hoped that Jerusalem would live up to its name.

In preparation for Rosh Hashanah, we had an "early release" from work on Wednesday--with the shuttle bus leaving at 1pm. This is because the Jewish day begins and ends at sundown (based on the account of creation in Genesis 1:3b, which states: "And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day"). Thus, the early end to the workday enables Israelis to gather with their familes to celebrate and bring in Rosh Hashanah together over dinner.

The Baumer family utilized the early release to go to the beach here in Tel-Aviv, and then to prepare for our trip the next day (Rosh Hashanah) to Jerusalem.

Sammy had been up a couple of times in the night (likely due to excitement over the holiday), so we let him sleep in a bit. By 10:30 or so, we were in the car and on our way to Jerusalem. Along the way, the scenery quickly changed from flat desert-like land to rolling tree-covered hills. While driving uphill most of the way (Jerusalem is at elevation of 800m, as opposed to Tel-Aviv at sea level), we thought of the "cedars of lebanon" being transported from Joppa to Jerusalem, as we had learned last weekend during our visit to Old Jaffa. It was difficult enough to imagine walking this route 2500 years ago, let alone transporting enormous logs.

The scenery became more and more beautiful, and more and more hilly, as we approached Jerusalem. And finally, after a grueling 40 minute drive, we were there :) It was a funny feeling coming to the realization that such a fascinating destination is only 70km from our apartment (7km less than my daily commute to work). Nicki and I asked ourselves: "do we REALLY live here"?

While we'd read that we could park at the Mamilla shopping center near the Old City, we missed the turn and ended up finding a free parking spot at "Bible Hill" (an undeveloped nature preserve apparently referenced in the book of Joshua while describing territorial boundaries). Immediately, we could see the apparently mis-named Mt. Zion across the way...

Mount Zion with Dormition Abbey (where Jesus' mother Mary is said to have died) at the peak

We read that centuries ago, Byzantine pilgrims had figured that this hill must be the original site of the City of David, hence naming it Mt. Zion--but while archaelogical evidence later proved otherwise (the City of David is on the adjacent hill), the name stuck.

Here's a father and son we spotted across the street--our first glimpse of many Orthodox Jews we'd see out and about.

Orthodox Jewish father and son walking on a Jerusalem street

After a quick view, we loaded up the stroller and walked towards the Jaffa Gate entrance to the Old City of Jerusalem. We'd read that most tourists enter from the Jaffa Gate--and that everything inside the city walls is downhill from there. So, fitting the bill as tourists, we were on our way!

Jaffa Gate sign just outside the Old City, Jerusalem

Here is Nicki and Sammy (yes, he's in there!) at the Jaffa Gate...

Nicki sneaking a mysterious bundle into the Jaffa Gate of the Old City

We were tempted to buy some pomagranates, among the many treats for sale just outside of the Jaffa Gate.

Pomagranate cart just outside the Jaffa Gate

Another reason for making this particular gate (of the old city's 11, 7 of which are open) our gate preference is that we'd heard that we could access the "ramparts walk" from Jaffa, which allows visitors to walk on the city walls and peer down into old Jerusalem. We quickly realized, however, that contrary to the advice we'd received from a co-worker, the ramparts walk was off-limits for strollers. In fact, much of the old city was stroller-incompatible due to the hilly terrain and abundance of steps. Perhaps we'll hit the ramparts walk "next time", and leave the stroller in the car. "Next time"--that has a nice ring to it...part of the beauty of living so close to Jerusalem!

We were quickly funneled into the David Street Market, which reminded us of China--complete with bargaining. Here's a shot of some spices (you'll need to try a falafel and/or shwarma sandwich when you visit) for sale at the market.

Falafel and Shwarma spices, among others, at the David Street Market

This plate was for sale at the market, and gives you an idea of what written Hebrew looks like (read from right to left). Shalom means peace, but is used as a greeting as well. Check out the caption for a quick Hebrew lesson (admittedly, this is the blind leading the blind...or rather, the mute leading the mute, I suppose).

Shalom! From right to left, shin ("SH"), lamed ("L"), vav--used as vowel here denoting "oh" sound, mem ("M")

 Here is a view up one of the side "streets" of the Old City...note the narrowness.

Typical Old City street scene in Jerusalem

After winding through the labyrinth of Old City streets, we managed to find an observation point overlooking the Wailing Wall (aka Western Wall), which was undoubtedly one of the highlights of our trip.

Western (Wailing) Wall of Jerusalem with Dome of the Rock mosque looming overhead

We learned that the Western Wall (Wailing Wall) was constructed ~2000 years ago as a mere retaining wall supporting the western side of the Temple Mount on which the Temple stood. After the temple was deystroyed (AD 70), the exact location of the temple became a mystery--and apparently many Jews made pilgrimage to this wall and mourn their loss (hence, the name). If you're interested in the history, please read elsewhere--there is a lot to be learned, and I don't want to mislead anyone as I'm sure I'd get it wrong :)

Jewish men overlooking the Wailing Wall (and posing for us, of course)

Perched upon our look-out point, the people watching was quite interesting. And later, while in the courtyard (actually, an open-air synagogue) in front of the wall, we learned the hard way (via a mild scold) that pictures aren't allowed on shabbat or during holidays. Thus, we were glad that we had snuck in some pics from the overlook before we were privvy to the rules.

As we ventured down some stairs to the courtyard, the sights and sounds intensified. Songs, prayers, and chants filled the air. Bibles and prayer books were being read. Even some tears were beign shed. After washing my hands in the fountain, I proceeded towards the wall! At once, I greeted with more scolding (in Hebrew), then another woman translated for me: "this side is for women!". Oops. Embarrassed, I made my way back to the courtyard, and then over to the men's side. I donned one of the free-for-use kippas, and headed to the wall. While I believe that we can approach God from anywhere, I must admit that praying at the Wailing Wall was a powerful experience! Nicki then took a turn (on the appropriate side, of course), and I looked on as many of the women walked backwards away from the wall (perhaps a foreshadowing of an unusual traffic pattern on our way to Caesarea the next day...more to come on that), rather than turning their backs on it.

Here is a shot of some Jews praying fervently at the wailing wall (men's side). Jewish tradition states that the Divine Presence never deserted the wall, so the thought is that chances of getting a prayer uttered at the wall answerd are quite high!

Jews praying at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem

Here is a group of Orthodox Jews approaching the wall.

We saw several Israeli soldiers (note the guns--not uncommon here in Israel) guarding the Western Wall area. We weren't sure how to interpret the situation--was it good to have soldiers keeping us safe, or does the presence of soldiers indicate the likelihood of an incident? Given the controversial nature of the area in general, probably the latter, but it seemed to work out ok.

Israeli soldiers keeping watch over the Western Wall

Oh, and there are no fears of gender bias with regards to military recruitment here in Israel. We've seen plenty of female soldiers & policewomen on guard. In fact, we've learned that all Israeli young-adults, with the exception of those who opt out based on religious convictions, are required to serve two years in the military. Many of them, we've come to find, then spend another year traveling the world. This explains why my co-workers with similar years of experience seem to be a few years older--they get a later start in the workforce. An all-volunteer military is certainly something that we take for granted in the US.

Israeli Policewomen guarding the Western Wall in Jerusalem

The Dome of the Rock mosque sits atop the Temple Mount, the previous site of the Jewish Temple (originally built by King Solomon), which had been deystroyed--twice.

Gold roof atop Dome of the Rock on the Temple Mount

And here's a view of the adjacent Al-Aqsa mosque. Our Muslim friends can correct me via comments if I'm wrong, but we've learned that Al-Aqsa ("the furthermost") mosque is considered to be the third holiest Islamic site in the world, behind Mecca and Medina--both of which are in Saudi Arabia.

Al-Aqsa Mosque, Old City Jerusalem

From there, we ventured through the Muslim Quarter and then stumbled upon Via Dolorosa. Actually, first we stopped for a quick treat.

Nicki and Sammy enjoying some chocolate cake and mint tea in the Muslim Quarter, Old Jerusalem

And, on the way, we spotted these guys playing backgammon...

Men playing backgammon on the streets of the Muslim Quarter, Old Jerusalem

Oh, and in order to give you an idea of what "new" Jerusalem looks like--here is a vew of the city looking out over Old City's wall.

Jerusalem as viewed from inside the Old City looking out over the wall

Ok, now back to Via Dolorosa.

Via Dolorosa street sign in Hebrew and Arabic

Via Dolorosa is Latin for "way of suffering". And, some think, it is the path that Jesus took on the way to Calvary. We knew we were in the right place when we saw this guy carrying a cross. As it turned out, he was taking it to the beginning of Via Dolorosa, where a group of Europeans was starting the walking tour.

Man carrying a cross on Via Dolorosa, Jerusalem

Here is one such group...


Group of Christians traverse Via Dolorosa

We also saw a long-haired, barefoot man garbed in a white robe walking the streets. We thought perhaps he had a case of "Jerusalem Syndrome", a widely recognized mental phenomena which apparently affects around 50 Jerusalem visitors per year.

Visitors can re-trace Jesus' steps, stopping along the way at 14 "stations", which mark the purported places that particular events documented in the gospels took place. Here's a map of the Via Dolorosa stations:

Map of Via Dolorosa walking tour stations

We had mixed emotions while walking Via Dolorosa. On one hand, it was amazing and humbling to walk where Jesus may have walked 2000 years ago. On the other hand, it also had the feel of a tourist trap--complete with coffee shops, trinket stands, and even the "Holy Rock Cafe". We also made way for skaters, a car with booming bass, and an ambulance. 

Holy Rock Cafe, Via Dolorosa, Jerusalem

The culmination of Via Dolorosa is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, said to stand on the spot where the crucifixion took place. It even houses a site (the 14th "station") marking what some say was the tomb of Jesus. The decision to put a church here was apparently made by Helena, the mother of Emperor Constantine, AD300. In those days, it was an empty piece of land outside of the city walls.

Courtyard outside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem

While we were there, some sort of ceremony was taking place. An uknown language was being chanted, and a guy was swinging a smoking lantern around (Nicki said it was incence). It reminded me of how many variations of "Christianity" there are. Apparently, even within this single church, there are many sects (Greek Orthodoxy, Coptic Monks, etc) sharing real estate.

Ritual underway inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre

We had also learned that others claim that Jesus' crucifixion took place at a completely different location, near the Garden Tomb. So, perhaps Via Dolorosa is just wishful thinking.

Regardless, no one denies that Jesus Christ was crucified here in Jerusalem. Yes, it REALLY happened... The important part is that He rose again (!!), as witnessed by His disciples, many of whom literally gave their lives sharing the news (after initially giving up on Him just after His death). Praise be to God! Wow, right here in Jerusalem!