Jerusalem

Once I sat on the steps by a gate at David’s Tower. I placed my two heavy baskets at my side.
A group of tourists was standing around their guide
and I became their target marker.“You see that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there’s an arch from the Roman period.
Just right of his head.”
“But he’s moving, he’s moving!”
I said to myself: “redemption will come only if their guide tells them,
‘You see that arch from the Roman period? It’s not important: but next to it, left down and a bit, there sits a man who’s bought fruit and vegetables for his family.’”
-- Yehuda Amichai

I never thought I would want to write about a place I visited, I never have ! But looking back at pictures of Jerusalem made me realise that they are not enough. There is more to this city than can ever be captured in pictures, so trying to capture some of what it made me feel!

Jerusalem was supposed to be a short relief from a hectic week at a conference in Haifa (FLOC 2022), but it was anything but that! We (me and Leonardo) entered the old city after a sleepless night through a long bus ride on a scorching day. It was supposed to be a six-hour day trip, on a friday, and we were racing against shabath's dusk.

Lo and behold, we entered the old city through the Jaffa gate, slightly touristic at the entrance. Still, the Jerusalem stone walls and the bricked floor served as an excellent appetizer to what was about to come. A group of Armenian priests (dressed in black with long crosses hanging around their neck) passed by us, and they seemed out of place then! But I had underestimated Jerusalem by a lot!

Our first destination was the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, we were running on an itinerary given by a kind friend, but we didn't have a guide. We didn't really know the significance of the places we were visiting. The church, clearly ancient, was a bit dim inside, the entrance contained a marble bar, and people were devoutly prostrating to it. And then there was a queue to a small altar with a stone under it. Though in awe of the beauty, what was more profound compared to my previous experiences was people's devotion. It seemed this place was important. It was not a typical day of talking to god but a special day of dining with him, maybe!

Finally, I asked this rushing young priest (I am unaware of the Christian theological hierarchy, so calling everyone a priest) about the significance of this place. But guess what! I don't speak Spanish/french/Hebrew, the languages he told me he was fluent in. But then he said he was Italian! and finally, we had a common language. The huge marble bar in front of us was where Jesus was made to lie down after his crucifixion. The stone under the small altar was the place where his crucifix was dug, and finally, there was a cave-like altar that was the place where his resurrection happened. But this place was no museum. The church was as functional as it gets and maybe more! Talking to another priest made me realize that the church is run by 5 different denominations of Christianity, sometimes in harmony and sometimes not!

The next stop on our itinerary was the western wall, and we were there in 10 minutes. In 10 minutes, we reached from where Jesus Christ was crucified to a place that probably is the holiest in Judaism. The site was full of devout Jews in traditional attire. Walking toward the wall, a kid (probably 10 years old) and an older man (probably his father) were walking opposite us. The father told his son (in English), never forget that you are Jewish. The wall had probably hundreds of jewish men (we were in the men's section of the wall) praying devoutly. They were swaying in the traditional Jewish way of praying. We then went to wilson's arch (a sheltered section along the wall), which had many jewish men in their traditional attire, reading religious books, praying to the wall in front of them. Some had even left papers with prayers inside the cracks of the wall. The people there were immensely kind to us and always helped us when we asked for any information. But the air was far from relaxed, not stressed, but there was a sense of purpose. There were several fathers with their children, trying to pass on a part of their identity.

We then headed to the Muslim quarter. The markets at Jaffa gate are pretty, they mimic what an ancient market may look like, but this was more real. The spices, dry fruits, and clothes shops did not seem just for tourists this time; real people were living here. But one could also feel the slightly higher alertness here, maybe a slight sense of fear (not in me but in the people there). Unfortunately, I was not allowed to enter the mosque (Dome of Rock) as it was Friday, the holy day of the week for Muslims. At some point in the afternoon, a prayer ended at the mosque. Many Muslims came out from the masque, flooding the streets of a vast area of Jerusalem. The quarters in Jerusalem are not concretely separated. It was profound to see deeply religious Muslims walk through the Jewish quarter, crossing paths with traditionally dressed Jews. As if both were not just co-existing but also asserting their existence!

Well, the rest of the day was spent walking around Jerusalem and via dolorosa !

Jerusalem is not about architecture, history, or even religion. It is about people trying to assert their identity and their right to exist! Whatever its political implications may be, the intensity of this passion and the close confrontation of the contradicting identities is maybe unique to here and here alone. I will end this note with the sentence I keep repeating when someone asks me what I love about Jerusalem -- Well, I have been to Rome and loved it for its history, but Jerusalem is where history is happening right in front of your eyes!