Journey To Other Side: The Wall And The West Bank

Walking in the wall's shadow in Bethlehem

I wanted to travel to the West Bank for three reasons.  First, I am an adventurous traveler.  I want to see everything.  If a place has a notable historic attraction, or if it presents an opportunity to gain an insight into a different culture, or if there's a scenic landscape worth seeing, I want to be there.  Second, I felt it was important to see the West Bank in order to understand the situation there as best as I can.  Third, I've always believed that talking with people one-on-one helps to break down barriers and increase respect and understanding among those with political, religious, ethnic or other differences.  Indeed, a Palestinian man I met in Ramallah said that he was pleased to have a nice talk with a Jewish person, as he hadn't meaningfully interacted with one - outside of a military checkpoint - in a long time.      

Traveling in the West Bank certainly isn't easy from a logistical standpoint.  Looking at my map of Israel, I've roughly estimated that it's about 50-60 kilometers (or 30-35 miles) from Tel Aviv to Nablus, the largest city in the northern part of the West Bank.  But the round trip journey took almost eight hours.  The arduous and circuitous return trip, for example, involved catching a shared taxi from Nablus to Ramallah, then waiting to catch a shared taxi from Ramallah to the Qalandiya checkpoint, then waiting on a long, slow line to pass through the checkpoint on foot, then catching an Arab bus from the Israeli side of the checkpoint to the Damascus Gate, then boarding a Jerusalem municipal bus to the city's central bus station, then waiting to catch an intercity bus back to Tel Aviv.  The Qalandiya checkpoint - a dusty, congested tangle of steel and concrete - is particularly ominous and is not a fun place to hang around.  

Palestinian side of the Qalandiya checkpoint

On line at the Qalandiya checkpoint

Israeli side of the Qalandiya checkpoint

It can also be difficult to figure out exactly where you are at any given point in time.  The path of the Separation Barrier can be quite tortuous in places.  There are open gaps that have yet to be completed and, instead of following a straight line, the barrier curves over hills and valleys and around power facilities, natural features, buildings, and communities.  And once you are within the confines of the West Bank, there are three different designated areas.  Area A, which Israelis are forbidden to enter (by order of the Israeli government, for security reasons), consists mainly of the urban areas and is under the control of the Palestinian Authority.  Area B consists mainly of rural areas and is under Palestinian civil administration but Israeli military control.  Area C consists mainly of the highway network and Israeli settlements and is under full Israeli control.  The patchwork of different areas and various checkpoints can be quite confusing.

As a Jew, traveling in the West Bank isn't easy on the conscience either.  I'm not into bashing Israel and frankly I think many fail to recognize the severe pressures that Israel is under.  I have no illusions about the grave threats that Israel faces from terrorist groups and nations that seek to destroy it.  I also give Israel a lot of credit for being a vibrant democracy with free elections, a broad diversity of viewpoints, and the freedom for minority religions to worship openly, a rarity in this part of the world.

But it seems to me that the current situation in the West Bank simply isn't tenable, morally or practically.  Morally, it's heart-wrenching to hear the stories of ordinary Palestinians who have been separated from their relatives, jobs, farm fields and water sources, and who long for things we consider basic necessities in the United States - political freedom, equal treatment under the law, the ability to travel from one place to another, and a chance to earn a good living for one's family.  It's also sad to see how some Israelis have become totally desensitized to the indignities and suffering that the Palestinians are forced to endure.  Practically, a large and growing population of aggrieved Arabs with restricted economic opportunities is not a good thing for Israel.  Clearly, there are serious safety risks posed by ceding control, as evidenced by the Israeli withdrawals from southern Lebanon and Gaza, which resulted in increased terrorist attacks against Israeli civilians.  But there's also a serious risk to Israel in continuing with the current path it's on - both in terms of its long-term security and in terms of the kind of society Israel wants to be and the values it ultimately wants to espouse.  

A good number of Israelis with whom we've spoken are not comfortable with the situation.  They generally support the construction of the Separation Barrier (which has helped to reduce significantly the number of terrorist acts in Israel), but ultimately they want peace and economic trade with their neighbors.  They don't like being seen as the "oppressor" and they lament the housing and other social policies that result in unfair treatment of Arabs, both in Israel and in the West Bank.  Many people we've met certainly don't agree with the extreme views of the Israeli far-right, which is in the minority but seems to be growing in power and influence.  But many people also seem resigned to the situation, either out of fear, or because they don't see a viable alternative, or because they just don't want to deal with it.  Some feel the situation is a necessary evil, to protect Israel's security.  

Of course, all this raises the question of what Israel should do given the very difficult choices it faces.  Well, I have my own views on that, but I don't have any definitive answers, and the purpose of this blog isn't to expound my political positions (well, not too much anyway). Suffice it to say that I care deeply about Israel and its future, and I hope its leaders can find a productive way forward at this critical time.  

In subsequent posts, I'll describe my adventures in the West Bank.  I saw some fantastic sights, met some really interesting people, was treated uniformly with warmth and hospitality, ate some delicious food, learned a lot, and took a bunch of pictures.  One of the lasting impressions I'll take with me is the resilience and humor of the Palestinians.  I'll also remember many of the images painted on the Palestinian side of the barrier, ranging from messages of resistance, to messages of peace, to messages of hope, to restaurant menus (including the menu from the "Wall Lounge" in Bethlehem).

After a fantastic day of sightseeing in Jericho, my taxi driver urged me to tell my friends to visit the West Bank.  "There so much to see here.  More people should come.  They shouldn't be afraid."  It is indeed a fascinating destination for the adventurous traveler.  I hope one day to return.      

From the Israeli side of the Qalandiya checkpoint

Looking at the wall from afar in Jerusalem

"Release 4 Peace"

 

I think that should be "Cordon Bleu," not "Gorden Blue"

 

More From Jerusalem: The Mount Of Olives

The Mount of Olives is a steep mountain ridge to the east of the Old City in Jerusalem.  It gets its name from the olive trees that line its slopes. 

According to the Book of Zechariah, the mount is the place where the Lord will begin to redeem the dead on the Day of Judgment.  For this reason, Jews have long sought to be buried here and the mount has been used as a Jewish cemetery since biblical times.  The site contains some 150,000 graves, and among those interred are the prophet Zechariah himself; the medieval sage Rabbi Ovadiah of Bartenura; Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, the father of modern Hebrew; and Prime Minister Menachem Begin and his wife Aliza.  During the period of Jordanian rule from 1948 to 1967, the site suffered considerable damage and many graves were desecrated.  The area has been painstaking restored and today offers plenty of history and spectacular views of the Old City. 

The Old City and the Mount of Olives are separated by a narrow valley called the Valley of Jehoshaphat, which contains several notable ancient tombs.  One is "Absalom's Pillar," a monumental rock-cut tomb that towers over its visitors.  According to legend, this is the tomb of King David's rebellious son Absalom.  For centuries, it was the custom among passersby (Jews, Muslims and Christians) to throw stones at the tomb to express their disgust at the acts of a son who acted against his father.  So much so that the tomb was essentially covered by rocks until the site was cleared in the 1920s.  Recent scholarship, however, has attributed the tomb to the 1st century CE, about 1,000 years after Absalom's death.  Nonetheless, it's quite impressive and the mix of Greco-Roman and Egyptian architectural features makes for a unique landmark.

The Tomb of Zechariah is another large, imposing tomb carved out of solid rock.  The history of this tomb is a bit confusing.  This is not the same Zechariah as the one described above, who lived in the 6th century BCE and is reputedly buried in a cave tomb (the Tomb of the Prophets) higher up on the Mount of Olives.  Rather, this is the tomb of Zechariah Ben Jehoiada, who was stoned to death around the 9th century BCE for criticizing the King of Judea for forsaking the Lord.  To make matters more confounding, recent scholarship has dated the tomb to around the 1st century BCE, hundreds of years after Zechariah Ben Jehoiada's death.  But, as with Absalom's Pillar, the important thing is that it looks cool and it's really old.

The adjacent Tomb of Benei Hezir dates back to the 2nd century BCE.  The tomb houses a wealthy priestly family and is in the classical Greek style, with two simple columns carved right out of the rock face.  The image of these two ancient tombs standing side by side is a classic post card of Jerusalem.   

Absalom's Pillar, from above

Absalom's Pillar, from up close

Wish you were here:  Tombs of Zechariah (right) and Benei Hezir (left)

As you ascend from the valley floor up to the summit of the Mount of Olives (or if you're smart, as you take a bus to the top and then walk down), you encounter a series of historic churches.  The mount is a sacred place for Christians, who believe this is the place where Jesus was arrested and subsequently ascended to heaven.  There's the colorful facade of the Church of All Nations; the shiny gold domes of the Russian Orthodox Church of Mary Magdalene (which has been featured on this blog on numerous occasions); the Russian Chapel of the Ascension (which is the tallest building on the mount); the Mosque of the Ascension (which is sometimes confusingly referred to as the Chapel of the Ascension because there was a church on the site before the Muslims took control after defeating the Crusaders);  the Church of the Pater Noster (with colored tiles of the Lord's Prayer in over 100 languages); the Evangelical Church of the Ascension (which reminded me of H.H. Richardson, an American architect who designed several buildings on the Harvard campus); and the small, modern Church of Dominus Flevit.  It's difficult to keep them all straight. 

Church of All Nations

Russian Church of Mary Magdalene

Church of Mary Magdalene, with cemetery, Old City walls, and Rockefeller Museum in the background

Russian Chapel of the Ascension, from afar

Russian Chapel of the Ascension, from up close

Evangelical Church of the Ascension

Evangelical Church of the Ascension

Mosque of the Ascension (aka Chapel of the Ascension)

It's another corner of Jerusalem that attracts visitors from all over the globe.  Indeed, I ran into tourists from every inhabited continent.  There were tour groups from the United States, Brazil, Spain, Italy, France, the United Kingdom, Germany, Poland, Russia, Kenya & Tanzania, the Philippines, South Korea, China, India, and several travelers from Australia.  The group from France was particularly intense, descending the hillside with a priest leading the way while preaching in a loud, mournful voice, followed by a man solemnly playing a guitar, several woman crying, and the whole group singing passionately.

As I alluded to above, in addition to its history and spirituality and its slew of beautiful monuments, the Mount of Olives offers another prime attraction:  incredible views of Jerusalem.  I found a solitary spot away from the tourist masses to sit down on a wall and take some pictures.  An elderly Arab gentlemen walked by, stopping to chat briefly and to point out in the distance to the King David Hotel, where Anwar Sadat stayed during his fateful trip to Israel in November 1977.  As he walked off, I was again alone to gaze at Jerusalem, for the last time during our four-and-a-half month stay in Israel.  I wondered, with a mix of trepidation and hope, what Jerusalem would look like 30 years from now. 

Go Hapoel Tel Aviv! (And Go Tottenham!)

Last Wednesday night, Jeremy and I took the bus to Bloomfield Stadium in Jaffa to watch Hapoel Tel Aviv play Benfica of Portugal in the European Champions League, a prestigious soccer tournament that features the best teams from all across Europe.  (Israel may be in Asia geographically, but it's in Europe as far as soccer is concerned, due to the political impossibility of most teams in the Middle East playing a team from Israel.)  Hapoel Tel Aviv qualified for the Champions League by winning the Israeli championship last year, on a goal in the closing minutes of the last game of the season.

From start to finish on Wednesday night, the small stadium was rocking with singing, drumming and cheering red-shirted fans as Hapoel Tel Aviv beat Benfica to win its first ever match in Champions League play.  Even with their impressive 3-0 victory, the team won't be advancing to the final 16 of the tournament.  But it was a great match and we had a really fun time.  Jeremy came prepared for the match decked out in the team colors, thanks to a shirt that Eden's cousin Raya gave him as a present.  (Thanks Raya!)

Posing for pictures before the game

Before the game, I'd read on line that Hapoel Tel Aviv has its roots in the Israeli labor movement and is the standard-bearer of the Israeli left.  As if on cue, the first fan we met on the bus, who showed us the way to the game, said (in very good English):  "It is a good thing your son is wearing the team colors.  We are good fans.  We are liberal, we like Arabs, and we try to get along with everyone.  Not like Beitar Yerushalayim."  (In case you're wondering, Beitar Jerusalem has a reputation for right-wing politics and extremist fans, and is the only top-flight Israeli club never to have signed an Arab player.  By contrast, the captain of Hapoel Tel Aviv is Arab.  Hapoel also has a Nigerian goalkeeper.)

Hapoel Tel Aviv, in their home white jerseys, on the attack (it's confusing, but both teams have red as their team color)

Moving from politics to the pitch, it was a very entertaining match, with plenty of scoring opportunities for both sides.  Hapoel scored first, then withstood an offensive barrage by Benfica in the early moments of the second half, then took control with a second goal with about 15 minutes left, then sealed the deal at the very end with a third.  As the final whistle blew, the team and the fans were ecstatic at its historic European accomplishment.  Jeremy thoroughly enjoyed himself, cheering, jumping, and rooting for Hapoel Tel Aviv - and complaining to me about various referee calls in Benfica's favor that he didn't agree with.

It was a great experience to see a Champions League match - even if it wasn't FC Barcelona vs. Inter Milan (that would be nice), or my favorite team, Tottenham Hotspur (aka "Spurs"), which plays in London and is making its first ever Champions League appearance.  When I explained to Jeremy that neither Hapoel Tel Aviv nor Benfica would be advancing to the final 16 of the tournament, he asked me:  "So, Dad, who are you rooting for?" This year, that's a pretty easy question for me to answer:  "GO SPURS!!"

A Tale Of Two Old Cities: Jerusalem & Bethlehem (Part 2 of 2)

Bethlehem skyline from our hotel window

We left Jerusalem from the Arab bus station near the Damascus Gate, taking bus #21 to Bethlehem.  The two cities are fewer than 10 kilometers apart, but it's like traveling into another world.  As we approached Bethlehem, Eden and I were immediately struck by the hulking concrete barrier that separates Israel from the West Bank (although the kids were oblivious, and were more concerned with what snacks we had for the half-hour ride).  We were also uncertain about the path of the barrier - it doesn't travel in a straight line and instead twists and curves confusingly over a hilly landscape.  But more on that in another post.

Walking through the heart of Bethlehem to our hotel, it felt like we were in a different country.  The signs were all in Arabic, there were few if any Israeli license plates (cars from the West Bank have different plates), and the streets were decidedly more chaotic, with pedestrians jostling back and forth across the middle of the road amongst honking taxis and trucks.  And unlike in Jerusalem, where tourists seem to be everywhere, we encountered very few foreigners on the city streets (Bethlehem's famous churches are filled with tour groups from all over the world, but few tourists venture any further into the town).  Jeremy asked why there were no sidewalks and why the cars were driving so close to the pedestrians.  As we approached our hotel, he also asked about the Palestinians and what the differences were between Israel, the West Bank and Gaza.  We did our best to explain the situation to him, but in his eyes I think it raised more questions than answers.  Talia was focused on other issues, asking "why did someone leave a broken chair in the road?"

We checked into our hotel, where the woman at reception was sewing a "Merry Christmas" needlepoint sampler for her home.  The majority of Bethlehem's residents are Muslim, but the city does contain a substantial population of Palestinian Christians, which is not surprising given its history.  Our hotel room was "plainer than plain" (in the words of our guidebook), but the staff was very friendly, the breakfast buffet was great (dinner not so much), and the view from the large window in our hotel room was incredible.  Indeed, a good part of our sightseeing in the late afternoon and early evening involved nothing more than drinking Palestinian beer (Taybeh Brewing Company) and gazing out our window while the kids watched Tinkerbell on TV (in English, with Arabic subtitles).  

Sunset view from our hotel room

Sunrise view from our hotel room

A different view from our hotel room

Morning view from the hotel restaurant

Nighttime view from our hotel room

More from our window:  minaret, with the site of a vast Herodian mountaintop palace in the background

We did venture beyond the confines of our hotel room to wander the lively city streets and to enjoy a leisurely stroll through the small souk (traditional market), which was full of life and color (and meat!).  Jeremy particularly liked the friendly dude who sells sweet, delicious tamarind juice from a large golden juice dispenser adorned with flowers.  

Want some meat?

I call this one "Market Scene with Hanging Meat"

Jeremy likes meat

The tamarind juice dude

Service with a smile (for only 1 shekel!)

Enjoying the lively atmosphere

Street scene in Old Bethlehem

As you may know (or as you might have gathered from the pictures out our hotel window), Bethlehem boasts numerous beautiful churches, from various historic eras.  The most famous (and most visited) is the Church of the Nativity, which reputedly stands on the spot of Jesus' birth.  According to our guidebook, it is the oldest continuously operating church in existence, having been commissioned by the Emperor Constantine in the year 326.  The massive exterior is surprisingly unassuming, but the original mosaics are stunning.  There's also a variety of interesting historic buildings scattered about town.

Part of the exterior, Church of the Nativity

 

4th century mosaic, Church of the Nativity

St. Mary's Syrian Orthodox Church

The "Milk Grotto" Chapel

Don't know the name of the church, but it's pretty and it looks old

Historic building in Bethlehem

Looking up at the Lutheran Christmas Church

19th century Mosque of Omar

The return trip from Bethlehem was not as simple as the short bus ride to get there.  We had to take a taxi from our hotel to the Palestinian side of the barrier, then pass through a security checkpoint on foot, and then board a local bus on the other side back to the Damascus Gate in Jerusalem.  At one point, I took Jeremy aside to explain the situation again to him.  He listened, said "I know Dad," then quickly turned his attention to racing Talia on the checkpoint railings.  Ah, the carefree years of our youth...

Palestinian side of the barrier

Get your passports ready!

Back on the Israeli side