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Jerusalem:
Mama Told Me Not To Come As we
head from the airport in Tel Aviv to
Jerusalem our guide, Olry Amir, asks, "How
many people warned you not to come?"
Stalls in ancient bazaars still sell relics to Christian pilgrims. The cobblestones are worn from thousands of years of daily repetition and the sandstone buildings reflect narrow bright sunlight beams that filter past close knit dwellings. Jerusalem is home to the world's largest monotheist religions--Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. All have placed their stamp firmly on the city's soul. It's hard to write about Jerusalem without political thoughts and newspaper headlines so I will use my salad dressing politic. The perfect vinaigrette is composed of three main ingredients: oil, vinegar and Dijon mustard. Keep in mind that there are many types of oil, vinegar and mustard just as there are different sects of Arab, Jew and Christian. The ingredients when blended meld into a tasty delight. Each maintains its own presence. Eventually, if not re-blended, the dressing separates and loses a marvelous mix. I have chosen to write about Jerusalem as a perfect dressing for all. Labyrinthine City
Because
of an essay I wrote in the Spiritual Gifts of Travel; Best of Travelers'
Tales and one of its editors, Sean O'Reilly, I am invited to attend a
concert called Strings Over Jerusalem, Heart of the World. Usually such
invitations get friends and family begging to carry my bags. Such was
not the case for this trip. "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." As we head from the airport in Tel Aviv to Jerusalem our guide, Olry Amir, asks, "How many people warned you not to come?" We all admit -- everyone. Powerful
Presence Soon President Moshe Katzav takes the podium and the night's entertainment begins with the sound of voices singing in Hebrew and French. It is intoxicating. Television camera crews and newspaper photographers crank out pictorial images of the event. Before attending the concert, we four writers head with the French performers to an IDF base and are greeted by eighteen-year-old soldiers and a display of military gear. It's strange but the solidarity of youth is undeniable. At eighteen
you serve the country and it appears, happily. Flirting, sharing and singing
along with the singers. The buffet at the concert's end is a cornucopia
of what reminds me of college years: "What's mine is yours".
My main
entry gate was the Jaffa because of its accessibility from Western Jerusalem.
It is also where the Tower of David Museum of the History of Jerusalem
is located. You can't miss it, the three massive towers assure it. The
fortification is a mixture of remains from Herod, the Romans, Crusaders
and the Ottomans. Its highlight however
is the Davidson Center. With help from UCLA, a real time visual simulation
model of the Herodian Temple comes to life. It is the closest thing to
a time machine available. The Western Wall is just a few hundred feet
away. Take the El
Wad Road or the Suq Khanes-Zeit and you will pass shoppers' heaven. This
is the place to play Lawrence of Arabia! The markets in the area sell
for residents not tourists. Whereever you go check with locals and keep abreast, travel smart and stay alert. Walk or use cabs. Politics is not to be voiced and just enjoy. No one said travel is easy. Just be careful, smart and enjoy! Under
the Stars It's moments like this when Jerusalem captures the heart. Constant thoughts of past history are matched by an actual glimpse. Fireworks from nearby Mount of Olives blaze in the sky as the encore begins. Jerusalem is still providing miracles! Armed with extensive knowledge given by our guide Orly I am free to again lose myself. After two days of passing through Jaffa Gate I am amazed how quickly I get lost. It suits me just fine. I constantly end up at the Damascus Gate in the Arab Quarter, start or end of busy shopping souks. I eagerly chomp on a Moroccan cigar; minced meat ground with lots of black pepper rolled in a thin pastry and fried and think of the wonderful museums and sites (see right) visited. More importantly I think about what Mark Twain suggested:
explore, dream and discover. I'll want no regrets twenty years from now.
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