Sunday 27th:As they were walking on the road to Emmaus....

We are entering the 'pack it up and get ready to go phase' which is not just tinged but slathered with sadness. We commenced today by talking about our preparations to go home, and the fact that we were now pilgrims and disciples: planning how to go back and take what we have learned to our home communities. Raphael, our guide, talked about pilgrimage as using the scripture text as a door, through which we walk to our own worlds. Today was a magnificent day: we visited the road to Emmaus (two of the three possible sites!) with the first road being what our guide considers the 'authentic' one, the Roman road remains, upon which we walked and 're-enacted' the Gospel; and the second being not so authentic but gob smackingly gorgeous: a Benedictine church built in the 12th century by the crusaders, and all still standing. Raphael's 'take' on the multiple sites was fabulous: he said that we are a perambulatory church: that our holy places move because our hearts move, and that when our sources (texts) differ, and therefore the places referred to differ, it allows us to appreciate the message of the scripture even more, rather than getting attached to one place which may or not be authentic.

I spent some time sitting in a little dark corner on the stone floor of the crypt of the Abu Ghosh church and contemplating the meaning of life....which is basically that life is good!! We followed that by attending the Abbey's mass, complete with singing nuns and monks (who are famous for their music world wide, in the gregorian chant style) and celebrated in both French and Latin. It was a little bit of heaven on earth; very moving with LOTS of singing parts: The whole mass went for a bit over an hour and a half, but time flew. I was actually sitting with my back against a stone crusader wall (I'm a bit into feeling the surroundings, to remind myself i am really there...) with my eyes closed soaking up the music when I realised that I was dreaming (ie: really dreaming, asleep!) I think I sort of drifted in and out a bit, swept along by the music which really was something else.

We had a free couple of hours this afternoon, on returning from Abu Ghosh, and so I went wandering in the market place which is a bit like 'shopping endurance sport'. I might have told you already about the antics that go on with the shopkeepers here: it is something I will not miss. By the time you've walked a few alleyways, or the Via Dolorosa, which is of course the 'main drag' of shopping in many ways, you are completely exhausted , and weary of the men stepping out in the path and blocking your way saying combinations of the following phrases: "Come into my shop. Just one minute, just look, no need to buy. Where you from? Are you American?" or WORSE: "you told me the other day you'd come back to my shop. you must come in NOW" (which happened today, dammit)

Tonight we 'bookended' the day with another cultural experience: A concert down the street at the Austrian Hospice to launch a festival called 'Sounding Jerusalem' which is a chamber music festival. A few of us went and it was just beautiful. Lovely lovely music, with Armenian, Jewish, Spanish, Arabic tunes or themes to the tunes, and some Bach thrown in. It was a bit of a head spinner: sitting with mainly Austrians (and a couple of Australians!), listening to music played by Europeans and Jews in the Muslim quarter of J'rem. Woke me up good and proper (must have been all that sleeping in mass this morning!) so that I could come down and do some typing for the first time in a while.

I had to give my reaction to the experience yesterday on a video tape to go to Rome for the chapter meeting of the Sion sisters, and the more I thought about it the more I realised that this has really been an immersion experience, plus scripture study, which means that I have 30 days x 24 hours worth of new experiences under my belt. (given that I haven't slept a lot I'm not even going to count the day as any shorter than 24 hrs!) This blog has captured some of the experience for me, but I wish I had managed to keep it more faithfully!! There are a few gaps, alas.

On the homeward stretch now: won't be long until I am facing cold weather again. I will miss much of the life here, but I won't miss having to carry a 1.5L water bottle around with me all day! Or dodging market men....

Sunday 20 June

Written later...reflecting on the experience from Australia....

Gemma's birthday dawned, and I don't know whether I've ever seen quite as much of her birthday, apart from the original day 17 years ago! We had a lovely gathering at the Austrian Hospice on the previous night celebrating one of the Ecce Homo-ians birthdays. We sat in the garden under the fairy lights in the trees and soaked up the cool breeze, singing songs from various musicals including The Sound of Music.

This morning's mission was to go to Notre Dame for mass, as Ariel, one of our group, was going to concelebrate mass. Notre Dame is a huge basilica, it is where we first arrived in our taxi from the airport, and where the Pope stays when he is in town. So, a few of us walked together to 9am mass. The mass itself was quite beautiful, and again full of surprises. We were 'guests' at a wedding -an older couple, one of whom's daughter works in Gaza, were married in the middle of the mass. I was asked when we arrived if I'd do a reading, and accepted the honour. I truly wished I had been a little more dressed up: my travelling sandshoes and crumpled cotton didn't quite seem up to the occasion, but I read as well as I could and hoped that made up for it!

We had coffee on the coffee shop verandah, together with Jim and Loris from Berwick, who have been volunteering at Ecce Homo for the past three months. I collected some sugar packets marked with the Vatican logo, to give to my colleagues back home, who would no doubt benefit greatly from some particularly holy sugar (!) and then we went our separate ways for our 'sunday off'. Peggy and I hit Ben Yehuda street, lunch at a bagel shop, enjoying the music in the mall, and buying up big on Jewish paraphernalia. It was a lovely atmosphere: and gave us a break from the 'serious', and cut throat, shopping of the souq. The interesting thing we noted though was that in the space of about five minutes we saw about five people begging for money: and that is a sight that we haven't seen a lot in the old city. Yet another piece in the puzzle....

Sat 19 Jericho: Mountains and Wadis

In short (I must be tired...!) Jericho today, leaving at the unfriendly time of 6.30 from reception, which necessitated a 4.45 start. Not good after the 3.20 call to prayer...will I ever get used to that????
Everyone kept telling us it would be hot in Jericho, but no one (not even the guide, Elias) had EVER experienced it as hot as it was today....they kept saying high 40s. I have no idea whether that was the case, but it was so hot we were melting.

We began our day with the walk to the bus: always a fun beginning (that is after we have packed our lunches- not today, we're having lunch in a restaurant! whoo hoo.... and filled water bottles and made sure our ear pieces and walkey talkey things are ready to go...then you have to add the bible, a notebook, a hat, sunscreen, sunglasses, and if you are particularly fussy, a roll of toilet paper: the pilgrim's essential survival pack!) We usually walk down the Via Dolorosa, out Lions Gate and through to the bus which waits outside the old city walls. Our bus is pink, very stylish, and we take our seats and run through the whole 'Check your buddy' routine, to make sure we haven't left anyone behind. An important safety tip, and usually fool proof, unless BOTH buddies are missing!

Upon reflection...(added later)
Our day began with a surprise experience: I had seen someone's photos of Wadi Kelt, back in Australia, and oohed and aahed over them, but I hadn't expected the sheer beauty of the place. It is one of life's little lessons that magic happens in the most unexpected times and places. Our drive in the bus took us to somewhere which looked like 'the middle of nowhere in the middle east'; sandy coloured sand and stones...the sort that looks deceptively like there is nothing there. We scrambled up a hill for our morning reflection, being followed quite closely by people keen for us to buy some beads, bracelets or necklaces. When we got to the sitting area, directly opposite the most majestic vista of Wadi Kelt, it was to find that the merchants were ready and waiting for us, with their wares laid out on tables right in front of the view. My first thought was frustration and annoyance: that we were there to listen, learn, experience and reflect, but along the way somehow I began to realise that this was life. For these people, who obviously relied on tourists for their living, Wadi Kelt was their business; not just my reflective space.

The experience had many layers: we gazed out at the hills, watching the shade shift across them as the rays of the sun got stronger, and were invited to walk off to spend some time by ourselves in reflection. I tried to walk somewhere a bit isolated, where I could look at the desert uninterrupted, and for a while I did. This time I was able to still my mind more successfully than at the Nahal Tselim Canyon (the night in the desert), and as I looked at the hills and what seemed to be emptiness, I saw more and more detail; plant life, the change in the colours of the sand etc, and could identify valleys. It was a bit of a revelation; that the desert was filled with life, that was just waiting to be recognized. My reveried didn't last all that long however, the silence was broken by a group of students and their very American-accented teacher, who chose the 'quiet side' of the hill for his open air lecture. Once again I found myself thinking 'the best laid plans...'. It is so true that you can't manipulate life to get what you want; even in the desert it is hard to be still.

From Wadi Kelt (remember the little boy who was lying on top of the stone wall, rolling around while Elias spoke to us about the place? His face was screaming 'Hurry up and let them start shopping!') we went to Jericho. Along the way we passed the site of the Inn of the Good Samaritan, and the enormity of what it would mean to 'walk down from Jerusalem to Jericho' was very clear: nothing has become clearer than the whole 'desert hospitality' thing and the need to look after each other in such a hostile landscape. No wonder it was seen as such a horrendous thing to ignore someone in need; failure to act would mean fairly certain death for the injured one. Our first stop in Jericho was at the coffee stop, where we lined up for a long time to get drinks and where Jenny and I bought some sycamore nuts to share. They tasted a little like cashews or ....? Very crunchy and sweet (and turned out to be ideal with baileys).

We then took cable cars up to the Mount of Temptation, to the Monastery of St George. The cable cars were a novelty, although the sign on the window 'Stops half way to unload passengers' was an interesting touch! The monastery itself looked precarious, perched on the side of the cliff face, built directly into the rock. The temperature by now was very hot, and the walk up the many stairs from the cable car was warmish, to say the least. We sat in a sort of cave-like gathering space opposite the monks cells- and fanned ourselves and drank from our trusty water bottles while Elias told us about the place. I can almost guage my level of heat-affectedness by how much I remember from each place: the poor old Monastery of St George is visually etched in my mind, however I can't remember any of the details about it -only what is now in my photos!~

I do remember we went into the Greek Orthodox church/chapel and were able to go up into the upper room which was 'the site' of the temptation of Christ. Once again, marked by a rock which has been surface rubbed by centuries of pilgrims. We also walked out onto the balcony and gazed at the cliff face beside us and the valley below. It was gorgeous in its dramatic starkness.

After our lunch at the Sycamore tree restaurant, during which we were very conscious of what special guests we were, in a place which is not really frequented by visitors now, we visited an incredible Romanian Church which has been constructed and which looks for all the world like an alien, made of glorious pink and creamy marble, landed in the middle of the desert. It was filled with icons: every surface covered with images of saints, including one icon showing the death of Mary, with Jesus nursing her soul, depicted as a little baby. The Romanian Greek Orthodox nuns running the place were christened 'The Audrey Hepburn' nuns by one of our group, as they had beautiful black veils which framed their faces; just like Audrey in whichever film she was in. They also kindly gave us drinks and biscuits: again, the hospitality of the desert, perhaps, before we made our way back to Jerusalem.

Thurs 17 June: Shrine of the Book

This afternoon we took life into our hands and walked out of Damascus gate on a quest to find a taxi to take us to the Museum of Israel, to visit the Shrine of the Book. It was a very very hot afternoon, and I was feeling ok until I got there, then of course felt a bit queasy again, telling me that my starvation diet hadn't really fixed me after all. Or maybe it was the heat....who knows!

The taxi drivers didnt' want to work in the heat either, so gave us a ridiculously high price, enabling us to walk off, heads held high, in search of a better deal. Sure enough, Tim got us a deal in a sharute (no idea of spelling: like a mini bus, 10 seater...)for 15sheqels each, which was a bit of a bargain we thought, especially as the bus had air conditioning!

Cars park here wherever they want, on the kerb, on the side of the road, in the road, wherever there is a spare inch or two of space. So the taxi's exit from the taxi car park could be described as 'interesting', 'challenging', rally driving or just plain skilful. Whichever term you use, we got out of there, and it was nothing short of a sign that miracles do occur in the modern world.

The Shrine of the book: a great place to go on a hot Jerusalem day as it is underground and very very cool, designed to keep the Dead Sea Scrolls and other artifacts well and happy: the spin off for visitors = they remain well and happy, and just a smidge cooler, also. I was grateful to the architect, the planners, the electricians and the government for the thoroughly thoughtful construction! Underneath it looks a little bit like the Jetsons, or a submarine; tunnel type corridors of display cases, leading to a central hall with a few levels, with a 'torah scroll' as the centre piece. The largest fragment of scroll is in fact the Isaiah scroll, and the replica of this is kept in the middle of the circular hall. It is quite awe inspiring: almost as much as the sign at the entrance that says 'Please check your weapons here'.

One of the girls, Mary, organised us all to go out for a group dinner this evening: to a restaurant called 'cynthia's cave', which served us delicious meals and provided us with our own special spot; the whole floor of their restaurant, which was in fact a cave. It was a big deal for the restauranteur: he and his wife came down to chat to us, and I think he may have had to outsource for the quantities of food needed to feed the lot of us (about 29 people went) We had a great relaxing and fun evening...and many many photos were taken, so I'm sure we'll remember it well!

A monument and a name- Yad VaShem

Today we visited Yad VaShem, the memorial to those lost in the Shoah (Holocaust). It is an enormous place, and we were there very early but the crowds were considerable. The Israeli army have an education program for their soldiers, taking them around to significant sites all over the country (which means we have been touring alongside them almost every where we go, which was a little unusual at first and now has become almost disturbingly commonplace) and there were at least three separate groups of soldiers there going on tours, so it was elbow to elbow.

We began with the Children's memorial which is a beautiful place, built to honour those children who died in the Shoah. Their names are recited aloud as you enter a dark circular room, with mirrored surfaces which reflect the flames of little candles which give the impression of stars in the night sky. It was a beautiful, sad place, and I visited it twice to try and honour the lives of those commemorated there.

The atmosphere of the main museum is also amazing, not at all like a normal museum. I think it will take me a while to filter through the experience, but it was not the sort of place where you could chat to anyone...it was more like a silent vigil as you moved through the different sections and displays. The final few rooms, which have been remodelled/rebuilt in 1995, now contain a Hall of Names which is a massive round room, with circular walls lined like library shelves, from the top of the walls to the bottom, with volumes containing the names of those who died, and as much information about them as is available. It is the most incredible sight. and then there is a room which honours those who resisted, as well as the Righteous Among the nations: those within Germany and Poland and from abroad who worked to save the lives of Jews and others during the Holocaust. Schindler's List is displayed here also.

The name Yad Va Shem comes from the book of Isaiah "to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name..." and the new emphasis in the museum on the personal stories of people does this, in honouring both the dead and those who survived.

I don't think it would be easy to forget some of the displays; the uniforms of those who lived in the camps, and the glass display case in the floor filled with shoes of those who were imprisoned and probably died. That was one of the most heart breaking sights, noticing all the serviceable, practical working person's shoes, and the occasional glamourous party girl shoe with a 1940s style.

Tues 15 These stones will shout....

Monday was a 'write off' day, as I succumbed to the evils of tummy bugs. I was very responsible and spent most of the day resting, which meant that I missed the journey to Ein Karem, which was a disappointment. The 'Up'side to that was that Ein Karem apparently is lots and lots of hills, so it was fortuitous that I stayed home in bed, feeling miserable, rather than sharing it with my companions. My caring fellow travellers made sure I was ok before they left: i was brought black tea, green tea, dry biscuits (and vegemite to add if I felt like it!) chewing gum and water....so I felt very cared for. Thankfully my starvation diet meant that I recovered fairly quickly in time for a day of stones and ruins on Tuesday.

Tuesday we went for a walk to the Church of St Anne (ie the mother of Mary) which is conveniently at the bottom of the Via Dolorosa. St Anne's church itself is very like the Sacred heart cathedral, except smaller and not as white! It is also a much older church, and has the pools of Bethesda in the grounds, upon which several churches were built ranging from the 3rd century to the 13 or 14th centuries.

The pools of Bethesda themselves were enormous, and were used for the provision of water to the temple site; as well as for providing a place for animals to be ritually cleansed (I think...! Will need to clarify this.) the pools were not intended for use for human cleansing, although that is what they became connected to in the time of Jesus.

At night time (they work us hard here!) we gathered after dinner in the Lithostrotos to hear about the history of the Lithostrotos, as it is connected to the life of Jesus. The basement of the convent is enormous, on several different levels, including a water cistern built by King Herod, but which no longer has any water since the connecting tunnels and cisterns were cleaned out a couple of years ago. The paving stones in the Lithostrotos are likily to have come from the Antonia Fortress, which was across the road from the convent site, and then reused in the making of the basement at Ecce Homo. Some of the stones have markings on them that show they were used for the soldiers' games eg variations of dice games. It is an amazing feeling to be sitting in a place that is effectively '1st century', even though it has had work done to make it tidier and safer since that time.

Sunday 13th June: walking the walls

Sunday seemed like a good day to go wall walking, so after morning mass in the Armenian Catholic church down the road (actually at the third station of the cross...lots of directions here are given by locating the stations, eg turn left at Station 5...which is a giggle when you first hear it!). The Armenian mass was in latin, which was a novelty for me, but the readings and the homily were in English, so it was quite lovely and I didn't feel too out of it. All of this makes me realise the importance of including others in everything we do: we were the foreigners there, but the priest made it his business to make us welcome, even to the point of giving his homily in English, when it wasn't his language. He did a great job, incidentally, and gave a very beautiful homily about our need to seek, and grant forgiveness to each other. AND he shook the hand of every single person in the Church, which also was a nice touch (and made possible by the fact that there weren't too many of us!)

The ramparts walk on the walls of Jerusalem has to be done in two parts, as the section around the Temple mount has been closed for security reasons. We chose to do the Northern Section, which took us from Jaffa Gate around to the east and back in through Lion Gate, which is the gate closest to Ecce Homo and the Via Dolorosa. We took about 2 hours to do it, as one of the girls had a sore foot and needed to go pretty slowly. It was very hot, the limestone is quite unforgiving in the heat and manages to reflect most of the light and heat right back at you, so it was a warm walk and we drank lots of water. It was a great way to view the city though, the old city was mainly roofs and domes, with the occasional back yard and school (one on top of the roofs, with basketball court and soccer oval!!) but it gave a great view of the outlying new city, and a bit more of a sense of the direction of everything. Enjoyed it very much, but would rather have done it on a cooler day or at a cooler time (which around here is really before 8 or after 6, when the walls are closed!)