Day 4 in Jerusalem: Away in a Manger (Square)
So good it almost deserves its own post
Manger Square is in the centre of Bethlehem, overlooked by the Church of Nativity. It seems like the sort of place that would be described as bustling but on the day I went there was about 5 people milling around.
Bethlehem is worth a few hours of sight-seeing time but not more. I found it equal parts run down and hyper touristic. It certainly has no shortage of shops selling tacky rubbish. Whatever you want, if it has Jesus’s face on it, you will find it there. Our guide took us to one shop which I’m sure sold the best souvenirs in town. The assistant handed us all coffee that tasted like melted down shoe polish. I took one sip and discreetly dribbled it back into the cup before hiding it behind some snow globes. They did have some lovely nativity scenes for sale, made in pale olive wood. Very pretty but not practical for someone without a home,money or fondness of Christmas.
I want to share with you a horribly cringeworthy story. I would like it on the record that I AM NOT A THIEF. Coincidentally there ended up being a young Australian guy on all 3 of my trips. I spotted him on my walking tour, started a conversation with him in the Dead Sea then talked his ear off around Bethlehem. He had lived in Japan and was studying computing in Israel. I am such a terrible person I never caught his name. Hey to that guy! While I was in the shop I picked up a little pack of wooden crosses. This guy turned round and seen them in my hand. He turned back again and I placed them back on the shelf. I was just taking my phone out of my handbag when he turned back round again. It absolutely 100% looked like I had stolen the crosses. I was actually taking my phone out so I could do some foreign exchange sums. I didn’t buy them because they were too expensive. When I left the shop the guy asked me casually if I had bought the crosses. I told him I hadn’t because they were too expensive. He looked at me like I was a common thief. I swear I did not steal them. How mortifying that for the rest of his life he will think of me as that girl who steals religious souvenirs. Oh the shame.
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The Church of the Nativity is the must see site in Bethlehem. Built in 339 AD over the spot where Jesus was born, it is one of the oldest continuously operating churches, surviving years of turmoil, looting and war. I have talked in-depth about my lack of membership to any one religion but I was extremely honoured to get to visit a place so sacred to Christians
The church is entered through the Door of Humility. Named as such as everyone, regardless of status, has to bend down to enter. Over the years the entrance way has gradually gotten smaller to protect the church from looters. The outlines of two larger entrances are still visible. The inside is dark with high, wood ceilings and lots of shiny lamps. Trapdoors in the floor reveal original mosaics which are astonishingly well-preserved considering they date back to the 4th Century. Behind pink limestone columns are fragments of wall mosaics dating to the 12th century. I spotted a priest leaning on the wall, talking on his mobile phone. Presumably he has a direct line to God. The church does not look very well looked after. This is not surprising considering a centuries old argument over who is responsible for the cost of the upkeep.
There was a line of tourists of all nationalities to get into the Grotto of the Nativity. Stairs take you down through a small, dark entranceway. A star on the ground marks the spot where it is believed Jesus was born. The grotto was very small and dark and full of people. Many were sitting down listening to a service. I am a bit claustrophobic but I could not miss out on the opportunity to see the sacred spot. I went into the grotto and walked straight out again. I took a photo of the star as a I walked past it. I got out before I had time to panic that there was not enough air.
We then headed to the bit of the church where they have services (pardon my lack of religious terminology). Unlike the rest of the church this bit was light and airy and very clean. I instantly recognised it from watching the Christmas Service on the BBC, so obviously I had to stop to take a picture of myself standing there! Next Christmas I can say, “I’ve been there” when I see it on the television. How magical must it be to spend Christmas in Bethlehem?
You can leave your legacy in Bethlehem and buy your very own tile at the Memorial Hall of the Church of the Nativity. I love it! How very Disney-esque of them.
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I enjoyed my day out to the Dead Sea so much that as soon as I got back to the hostel I booked up for a tour of Bethlehem for the next day. I had only one more day of my holiday left and I wanted to make the most of it, without having to bother about public transport or trying to cross over borders on my own.
It was chilly in the morning but the clear blue skies made the most perfect back drop for all my pictures. My day in Bethlehem was…weird. The place is so artificial. Like a Christian Disneyland. Nothing looked original or aged. A minibus picked 12 of us up from the hostel. Bethlehem is in Palestine and we had to go through some pretty major security to get there. Our driver made the executive decision that we were all Germans. He told this to one of the guards as I hid my passport and practiced my best German accent. If interrogated I would say my name was Heidi from Düsseldorf. I was a big fan of schnitzel, liederhosens and music of ex-Baywatch stars. I was almost disappointed when the bus was waved through. Not really. The guards had some massive guns.
Going through the border, Bethlehem looked much different from Jerusalem. It is clearly not as affluent. The place looks really tired and run down, even with gorgeous blue skies. The graffiti on the West Bank Wall is incredible. I was looking out for a Banksy but didn’t spot one. There are beautiful pictures created by truly talented artists. There are messages of hope and of anger. I would have liked more time to see the rest of the wall. Knock it down. You can’t fence people in. I don’t know whether it is to keep people in or out. Put people in a cage and they will fight back.
We picked up our guide in Bethlehem. He was good, an older gentleman who was very knowledgable. He seemed a bit…sleepy and his lack of enthusiasm was contagious. He didn’t make Bethlehem particularly exciting. Our driver was a character! He demanded money from one of the guests and called him a liar in front of the rest of the group. It was painful to watch. Of course being a professional busy body I had to get involved and told the driver in Arabic that perhaps it wasn’t appropriate to harass a guest for money half way through a tour.
After spending a lot of time in an underground car park, we headed to the Shepherd’s Field. It has been a while since I learnt the story of the birth of Jesus. I thought this is where they spotted the star which they followed to the baby Jesus but according to Google it is where the angel came to tell the shepherd’s about the birth of Jesus. Were they special shepherds? Why were they told? I should have done my research. Our guide really did not explain a lot and once again I was the only one in the group who didn’t have a doctorate in Christian studies. We went into some caves where the shepherds lived (?). “Are these the original caves?” I asked the guide. He said they were. They looked like they had been built and painted the week before. All the sights in Bethlehem look like they have been just given a fresh coat of white paint. Nothing looks 2000 years old. The views from the Shepherds’ Field were lovely. We went into a very white church and looked at paintings on the wall which showed the story of the birth of Jesus. I appreciated the refresher.
Everywhere we went other tour groups were singing hymns. I hoped we would get to sing some songs but our group didn’t which is a shame because I remember some good ones from school assemblies. Next time I go I will start the singing off. The singing groups appeared to be having a much better time than we were. Clearly I spent too much time looking on in envy and not learning!
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Day 4 in Jerusalem: Soldiers
From the moment you step foot in Israel it is difficult to ignore the extremely high military presence. As soon as I crossed into the country I was shocked to see a couple of young guys in full army gear and guns get on my bus to Jerusalem. Walking around the Old Town it feels as if there is a soldier on every corner. It is difficult to get used to. The sites are so beautiful but constantly finding yourself face to face with heavily armored soldiers is a stark reminder of what a volatile place Israel is. Every time I seen a rifle I felt uneasy. Were they preparing for something terrible to happen? I know that the army are there to keep people safe but constantly seeing them made me feel like I was in danger. What I found most disturbing was how young all the soldiers looked. Some of them looked like they were on their school lunch break, wearing their guns like school bags. Israel has conscription for all men and women over the age of 18. It broke my heart to see so many baby faces doing such a dangerous job. I hope one day Israel can find peace and they can let their kids enjoy being teenagers.
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Ah…the joys of hostel living.
During my short stay in Jerusalem I had 5 different rooms and many room-mates. I was thrilled to get to stay put in the same room for my last two nights. My roommates were lovely. Next to the legendary Evil Viking of night 2 I would have been happy to share a room with a Great White Shark.
The first room-mate I met was an older German lady who upon meeting me instantly burst out laughing. After my day at the Dead Sea my face was a rather shocking shade of red. Yup, after spending a year in Egypt I somehow managed to burn my face after 10 minutes at the beach on a chilly day. Damn my stupid facial skin pigmentation. She had come back to the room for a quick snack and offered me a bite of what looked and smelled like very low quality cat food. I politely declined.
Another room-mate was an American girl who was on her ‘Heritage Tour’. She told me that Jews in America get the chance to go on an all expenses paid trip to Israel when they are about 23 years old. How good is that? I know many American’s never get the chance to leave their own country. I don’t know how far-reaching the scheme is but I think it is a fantastic way to show youngsters the World and give them the opportunity to learn all about their religion. She was having a great time travelling about in a big group seeing a different site every day. I was surprised to see so many Americans in Israel. In a year I had not seen a single American tourist in Egypt. I know that the American Foreign Office stopped people coming here for a long time after the revolution. In my opinion, Egypt is a less volatile place to be than Israel.
Another of my room mates was a Korean who had just come back from a kibbutz where she had a job in the laundry. She spoke better English than me. I always feel ashamed of my language abilities when I travel. It seems like everyone I meet can speak 3 languages fluently and all I know is some Arabic catchphrases. If English is your first language you are spoiled as a traveler.
We had an Italian room-mate who I never spoke to but who I got into a silent battle with over the window. She would open the window, I would close it. She would open it again, I would close it. She went to open it for the 3rd time and I gave her a look that said “Touch that window again and your going out it” in the politest possible way. It worked. As a general rule of thumb if it is snowing outside you usually don’t need the window open.
My favourite roomie was a loud American girl in her early 20s. She took great pleasure in telling us about the family she was visiting in Israel. Presumably not close family if she was sleeping in a hostel. On my last night I was up at 5am to catch my bus. I was silently getting myself organised when this American girl started loudly having a conversation across the room with someone else. In a room full of 8 sleeping women this is a big no-no at the crack of dawn. The German lady shouted at her to shut up. The American girl said….wait for it…”Geez. Happy travels to you”. The brilliance of this comment, both cheesy and sarcastic, was not lost on me. Words that would only come out of an American’s mouth.
Getting to meet people from so many different nationalities was one of the highlights of my Jerusalem trip. Everyone you meet travelling has their own fascinating story to tell. Hostel living is difficult. The shower in my last room leaked and I flooded the room. Having to apologise to someone you have just met for getting their bag containing all their belongings wet is a bit awkward. For the new stories that I get to tell, however, hostel living is the only way to truly travel.
Day 4 in Jerusalem: Let Us Spray
After our swim in the Dead Sea we finished the day with a trip to the Mount of Olives. A Jewish graveyard for 3000 years, Mount of Olives is home to over 150,000 Jewish graves. The views of Jerusalem’s Old Town from here are just stunning. I could never get tired of looking over at the beautiful, stark white skyline. We didn’t even need to do the killer walk up to enjoy them either, the bus took us to the top of the mountain. No walking required which was a good thing as I was getting a bit nervous about all the exercise I had done that day.
It was the perfect way to end an unforgettable day.
