The West Bank

I write this blog today with a bewildered, heavy heart. I am full of confusion and full of conflict after a full day in the West Bank, the Palestinian territory on the eastern edge of Israel. I visited Ramallah, Jericho, and Bethlehem, and learned an unbelievable amount about the Palestinian side of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and about Christianity.

I woke up this morning at 4:20 AM to catch the 5 AM bus to the main bus station to catch the 6 AM bus to Jerusalem, because we all know my luck with Israeli public transportation. I managed the buses just fine--actually pretty wonderfully--but of course my luck on the tram took a turn for the worse. I didn't validate my ticket, which is cause for a fine--but the officer guy took pity on me and cut me some slack.

Three fellow interns and I jumped on a bus at 8:15 AM to drive about 10 minutes east from Jerusalem to the West Bank. Our guide immediately welcomed us to "terrorist country." I didn't know whether he was referring to Israel or the West Bank, but either way, right off the bat, I was like:

But I decided to enjoy the ride.

One thing I love about Jerusalem's geography and topography--it requires so little imagination to picture what the landscape looked like 2,000 years ago. Short, gnarled olive trees sprout in the rich, sunset-colored earth and every once in a while, a goat or two will peek out from behind the stumpy trunks of trees. I mean, I practically expect the shepherds who heard the angels' proclamations to walk up to our bus with bemused looks on their faces.

That was my satisfied impression of the countryside... Until I blinked and was transported to a different world. Where shanties were homes. Where trash lined the street. Where women peeked out of burkas with only a slit for their eyes. We had entered the West Bank.

One thing I noticed as I traversed the West Bank.. There are SO. MANY. TIRES. Like legit rubber car tires are just strewn across the land. You can even see two in the above picture. It's crazy. I don't even know the explanation for that. I also saw a splatter of crusty red on a telephone pole that looked suspiciously lethal and posters of Arab-looking men holding rifles in front of famous landmarks (like the Dome of the Rock) hung all over the capital of the West Bank, Ramallah.

It's totally fine, ha ha ha, so normal!!!

Ramallah reminded me of Nazareth in that it's an Arab and Arabic-heavy city that retains some Israeli order. It was an interesting city, and we walked for about 20 minutes through the main streets.

A view of the valley

The city center

The market

We arrived at Arafat's tomb; Arafat was the leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organization and the Palestinian Authority (basically the nationalist ruling parties of Palestine) until his mysterious death/possible murder in 2004.

The tomb

My friend took a picture of me standing in between the two soldiers as I threw up some gang signs, but it's on her phone, so just stay on the lookout for that. The soldier on the right was pretty cute actually, and I considered giving his butt a lil' squeeze for a funny photo op, but then I realized he was holding a gun and he probs wouldn't find it as funny as sleep-deprived Aubrey does.

Still, could have been funny.

Anyways. We made our way to Jericho, which is apparently the oldest city in the world... Somebody needs to check those facts. Jericho is a) where Joshua and his constituents marched around the walls of Jericho and blew trumpets until the walls tumbled down and b) where Jesus fasted for 40 days and nights and was tempted by the devil.

We took cute cable cars up the mountain--

With our great guide whose name is literally "Thursday" and who told me that his nephew is an eligible bachelor and engineer in Kuwait--

And we were treated to a fab view of the West Bank.

We then toured the Greek Orthodox monastery that honors Jesus's temptation.

There it is in the rocks!

Gorgeous

The rock upon which Jesus sat and fasted/was tempted

The story of Jesus' resistance to the Devil's temptation is one of my favorite New Testament stories for two reasons.

First of all, I think it's such an admirable example that He set for us. He was weakened by hunger and thirst and probs just missed heaven a ton but remained faithful to God and to the standards He held for himself. That's beautiful, right?

Second--Jesus is honestly just like the biggest baller ever, okay? Like picture this. You know when you just really, really hate someone so you disagree with everything they say? Like they could say, "wow isn't oxygen really great?" and you'd be like--

I mean, idk, I kind of just prefer to hold my breath, but like if that's what you wanna do, it's your choice, whatever.

You guys--THAT WAS LITERALLY JESUS. He had STARVED himself for FORTY EFFING DAYS and the Devil is like "yo dude why don't you just make yourself some bread?" And Jesus was like,

Eh, whatever, I'm not really that hungry, I don't feel like it, thanks though

Like, oh my God. He was the best. 

I mean like maybe I'm going to hell for blasphemy, but one thing I've learned since I've been in Israel is that nothing here is perfect. We romanticize the cities and the stories and the people to the point that upon arrival, they're unrecognizable. Being in Jerusalem and praying at the Western Wall and walking the Via de la Rosa are beautiful experiences--but they aren't perfect by any means. And I feel like in the past, I've read the Bible so drily and treated the people in it like idolized angels when they were really f*cked up humans like all of us. Seriously, though--Jesus went to a freaking wedding with no open bar and was like "yo this is whack" and TURNED WATER INTO WINE. WHAT A HOMIE. Or when He's walking through a town and tries to take some figs from a tree but they're not ripe yet, so He literally goes, "eff this tree," and makes it barren forever because it was probs like March and the tree just wasn't blossoming yet. Or when he's taking a nap on a boat, and everybody is freaking out about a measly little storm and they wake him up, and he literally comes up to the deck and is like "you guys need to chill the eff out" and just stops the storm and is like "God, guys, I'm literally Jesus, did you think we were gonna drown? Let me effin' nap."

Like I said. I'm probs going to hell. But also... Maybe not. We as humans appreciate love and humor and enjoyment so much; I think that the God who created us values the same things. So I like to think of Jesus as the best friend I'm ever gonna have. And if he's gonna be a good friend, he's gotta laugh like at least at one or two of my "that's what she said" jokes. Okay, kidding on that last part. But I bet he would have laughed.

Anyways. 

I'm really rambling here. I've been awake for like 20 hours. Bear with me, friends.

We then went to Bethlehem for lunch and for a tour of the Church of Nativity, which is built on top of the cave in which Jesus was born.

The Doorway of Humility--so small you have to BOW to get in!

Stunning Greek Orthodox shrine

Jesus's birth site plus Aubs

We then walked about two seconds over to the Catholic church honoring the same humanity-saving event.

After our quick tour, our guide actually sang the Lord's Prayer to us in Aramaic, which is the combined language of Ancient Hebrew and Arabic that Jesus really would have spoken. It was beautiful.

Then, we continued with a walk through the Old City of Bethlehem--

Which was lovely.

Then, the day took a turn for complicated.

We reached a refugee settlement and were told we were about to walk through. At which point a man with a hose proceeded to spray all of us tourists with water.

Our guide insisted the man was just trying to cool us off, and I was like--

Oh yeahhhh, I'm sure

But my indignant mood shattered pretty quickly, morphing into disgust and pity.

The streets were filthy. The buildings were falling apart with no paint, just graffiti slandering Israel and Judaism covering the walls.

A call to boycott Israeli goods, because 16% of the profit goes towards "the murder of Gazan children"

The settlement

I was uncomfortable. I was hopeless. I was upset. And it only got worse as we walked out of the settlement towards the gigantic border wall between Israel and Palestine.

Graffiti once again took over my attention. Some of the sayings blasted Israel. Others begged for release from the prison of Palestine.

Short autobiographies of West Bank children and young adults lined the wall as well--including the story of a Palestinian boy who gave up his seat on the bus for an elderly Israeli women when none of the Israelis on the bus would stand up.

Vaguely relevant, for some reason

I have not suddenly changed allegiances. I have not changed my mind about the right of Israel to exist. I have not succumbed to blatant propaganda or whitewashing of sins.

However.

Today depressed me, because I finally understood the ramifications of the lack of a two-state solution. I saw firsthand the poverty and despair in Palestine. And I was forced to confront my own ignorant hubris and dismantle it as I wracked my brain for an acceptable way to please everyone... and found none. I wanted to make it better. I wanted to fix it. And I don't know how.

I left the West Bank sobered and saddened. I was quiet for the next few hours as we made our way back to the main Jerusalem bus station. And I felt hopeless until I saw this.

I know it doesn't look like much in the picture. But it was a beautiful sunset tonight. And even though I'd traipsed through millenia-old sites dedicated to my religion, this might have been the closest I've felt to God in a little while in the way I am used to. It was going to be okay. The sun was going to set, and it will rise tomorrow; the leaders of today might fail in their quest to solve the conflict, but the leaders of tomorrow--hopefully myself included--will dedicate their time and energy and lives to its conclusion. I am in a screwed up, sometimes depressing, but unbelievably Holy place. I am so lucky.

And to reward you for making it through such a rollercoaster of a post, here's one of the writings on the wall that made me chuckle.

Signing off with a lot less hubris but a little bit of hope,

Aubs

Most Amazing Weekend in the World--Day 1

June 11--the day I'd been waiting for since I first decided to come to Israel. The day that holds the memories and sights and wonders that every Christian, Muslim, Jew, history-appreciator, lover of spirituality, etc. etc. absolutely dreams of. On June 11, I went to Jerusalem.

Jerusalem is about two hours from my home in Raanana, so I woke up chipper and excited at 5 in the morning to meet my fellow travelers, Kara and Kajsa, at the appropriate bus station. I mean, of course I got on the wrong bus/went to the wrong station/was a half hour late, but I got there!!! And we began our adventure into the holiest city of all.

Most of this blog and the next will just be pictures with short descriptions, because when it comes to Jerusalem and the surrounding sites, there is no substitution for firsthand experience but a picture is the closest I can come.

I about died when I saw these walls. THEY'RE SO OLD, THEY'RE SO PRETTY, TAKE A PIC WITH ME

We walked from the modern-day city of Jerusalem through Jaffa Gate (the main entrance) into the Old City, which is walled and contains all the holy sites and religious living quarters.

"OMG WE ARE IN THE OLD CITY, TAKE A PICTURE OF ME NEXT TO THIS STREET"

We stayed in Citadel Youth Hostel, this incredible tucked away dormitory right in the middle of the Old City. In a moment of adventurousness, we decided to sleep on the roof! And boy were we glad we did. Look at our view!!!

Rooftop view of the Dome of the Rock amongst other beautiful buildings

Me, duh

After setting our belongings on our mattresses to claim them, we scurried to grab a quick falafel pita sandwich then jumped on the two-hour free tour.

Right at the beginning, a brigade chapter something that means group of soldiers passed right by, casually carrying their AK-47's, or some gun that's big and scary. The domestic soldiers are always considered to be on duty, and some of them are required to be armed at all times. Which means, there are constantly 18 and 19-year-old guys and gals walking by ya on the street carrying enormous weaponry. If you trust the military, you probably feel safer than anywhere. If you're even the slightest bit suspicious of the everyday soldier... it gives you a queasy stomach.

Woah.

These are some of the pictures from our tour. The Dome of the Rock, now a Muslim mosque, is considered the site at which Abraham almost sacrificed his son Isaac. It is the absolute holiest of sites in the entire world for Jews.

Gold Dome: Dome of the Rock. Wall behind meWailing, or Western, Wall. Grey Dome: Al-Aqsa Mosque

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is built on the location of Jesus's crucifixion and burial. It is the holiest site on the globe for Christians. It's difficult to describe how moving this church is. It takes your breath away when you realize that Jesus Christ suffered and cried out and thought of each individual human being in the exact spot in which you stand.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre

Because the Dome of the Rock is only open to Muslims on account of a treaty between Israel, Jordan, and Palestine, Jews pray at the Western Wall on the side of their holy site instead. It made me uncomfortable to see such a strict and unrelenting religious segregation--especially in the place at which God has made Himself most present and visible.
Many people write prayers on tiny little pieces of paper and stick them in the cracks of the wall. Of course I participated.

Me, the little babushka, at the Western Wall.

After the end of the tour, my friends and I began the Via Dolorosa, or the Way of the Sorrows. It is a path with fifteen stops, each of which hold some significance to Christ's walk with the cross. 

The path is marked throughout the Old City

A description of each stop

Bizarrely enough, one of my favorite places in all of Jerusalem was this one--

Prison of Christ

According to some Christian sects, this cave that lies under the Old City held Jesus in the hours/days before his crucifixion. I'm inclined to believe them, for in that cool, dark, damp room of stone, I felt a serenity and peace I've never experienced in my entire life. It was as if the presence of God lingered in the space, calming those who entered with an assurance of His existence and His affection. This is one of those Jerusalem sensations that's difficult to describe without sounding a little disturbed. But I could simply imagine Jesus crouched under these rocks praying to God for acceptance--and I would guess that if Jesus prays for something, it's probably gonna be granted and it probably won't wear off in a measly two thousand years.

My favorite thing about Jerusalem was that it completely altered my spiritual mindset. I was pondering and considering Christianity not just as an archaic ideology but as a real and true history of events. I thought of Jesus not as a distant ghost but as a man who'd stood where I stood, and saw what I was seeing, and felt the same stones on his palms. It gives me the chills just thinking about it. This alteration in perception is an undeniable gift of God.

After such an emotionally enriching (but draining!) day, it was time to relax and settle onto the rooftop.

One more photo

I'd be waking up in just four short hours.

With love,

Humbled and Holy Aubs