Saturday, March 18, 2017

TRAVEL SPECIAL.............. When in Jerusalem...

When in Jerusalem...

The ancient city takes you on an overwhelming journey -from the Wailing Wall through the murals of the Cardo to Calvary
Stark and rough, and rising more than 60 ft into the sky and nearly 1,500 ft long, the wall was massive, built with limestones, and looked solid and ancient. In the mid morning light, it seemed bathed in a gold en-orange hue. In front of it, seemingly dwarfed due to its sheer proportions, were clusters of women. Some sat on chairs, others stood. Most of them had one or both their hands on the wall. Apart from a mut ed buzz, generated from collective prayers muttered under the breath, an eerie si lence hung in the air. There was an occa sional wail, though many of the women were weeping silently, while they stuffed the crevices between the stones with piec es of paper filled with prayers. Of all the places in Jerusalem, the Western Wall, bet ter known as the Wailing Wall, is the most unsettling as well as the most indescribably overwhelming.
Considered to be over 2,000 years old, the wall is the only surviving portion of the Temple Mount, part of the Second Temple, built by Herod the Great around 20 BC. Jews come here to mourn the destruction of the Temple Mount by the Romans, from where it gained its epithet. But unlike what I had imagined, there was no melodrama or overt expression of grief; instead I was buffeted by waves of silent emotion that seemed to radiate from those around me, which made it all the more disconcerting. So I stepped away to give myself a bit of space and sat silently on the steps where I was joined by my guide Sharon.

Glaring History
Snatches from my guide book came to mind: about Jerusalem being the birth place of three Abrahamic religions -Judaism, Christianity and Islam, and that it had an incredibly complicated history that went back 5,000 years or more. It was perhaps one of the most fought-over cities in human history and continued to be something of a touchy issue. I knew it would be impossible to take in everything in a day or two, or even a week -there was simply just too much to see and absorb. Even as I sat on those steps, it was difficult to escape the sheer history and its convergence with religion and politics. And even though I belonged to none of the three religions that were birthed here, I started to feel like I was drowning. So Sharon whisked me through an arched pathway above the tunnels of the Western Wall that went back to the time of the First Temple to parts less overwhelming.

We arrived at the Cardo, an excavated thoroughfare going back to the Byzantine era with beautiful pillars, mosaics and even a huge wall mural depicting everyday life in ancient Jerusalem. Encased within towering walls that came up sometime during the 16th century, Sharon told me that the Old City of Jerusalem was made up of four rough quarters, designated Jewish, Christian, Armenian and Muslim. As we took an arbitrary path through them and crossed from one quarter to the other, there were subtle differences and interesting sights.


Narrow, noisy, crowded and colourful alleys in the Muslim quarter became wider and ornate in the Jewish quarter. It included the towering wall and the Cardo as well as a handful of other beautiful structures and squares. In the Christian quarter, there was an abundance of churches but none more popular or stunning than the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (see Via Dolorosa). The Armenian quarter was the quietest but also had the beautiful Jerusalem Citadel or Tower of David, a massive fortress dating back to the 2nd century BC.

We stepped out in between, using one or the other of the eight main gates, which had names such as Damascus, Jaffa, Zion and Herod. Leading off from the Zion Gate was a path flanked by tall limestone walls that led to the Franciscan Monastery. Nearby was another iconic spot -the supposed site of the Last Supper. Called the Cenacle, it was largish room with pillars and Gothic architecture. The building itself is estimated to be around 1,000 years old but is believed to be the place where the monumental event took place. There were a handful people there but an air of solemnity pervaded the whole place, with people speaking in whispers occasionally.

Simple Beauty
When I stepped out, darkness was already falling and the alleys were almost empty. So Sharon and I headed back to one of the many clusters of cafes in Old City. Since it was a little humid, we sat in a tiny pavement cafe while the owner efficiently put together falafel pockets and iced tea. It was crunchy from fresh lettuce and tomato, while the falafel balls were massive, crispy and mildly spiced. The pita was soft and the creamy hummus beautifully tied everything together. As we chased it down with the cold brew, we also interacted with other tourists and locals, in between discussing the touchy and fraught-with-tension politics of the region.

Then all of a sudden, Sharon jumped up and said, “Let me show you something interesting.“ I seriously doubted it as my head was still whirling from the staggering amount I had seen through the day and had abandoned any attempts to process it. But I wordlessly followed her as she led me out of the Old City through Jaffa Gate and to the Citadel where a crowd was waiting. She left me for a moment to buy tickets and then led me inside. The fortress was dramatically lit and we walked along the ramparts to a corner where rows of seats had been set up. Soon the lights dimmed, music filled the air and for the next 45 minutes I was treated to a mesmerising and stylised rendering of Jerusalem's history through an incredible sound and light show. The music faded and the big lights came on but I was still in the grips of the story. Silently we made our way out and I hung behind, wanting to spend a few more moments. I stood on the terrace opposite the Citadel, leaning on an iron fence and stared at the brooding walls. Jerusalem's history, despite the just-concluded show, was still too humongous to wrap my head around. A gentle, cool breeze blew across, bringing with it distant strains from an unseen violin. It seemed to sweep away the heaviness and induced a sense of calm. Quite apart from the other heavy adjectives, it also pointed to simple beauty. Above, beneath and beyond everything, perhaps that is what's most enduring about Jerusalem.

Way of Sorrow
If the Western Wall is the highlight of Jerusalem for the Jews, Via Dolorosa occupies that position for Christians. Translated to way of sorrows suffering grief this is ostensibly the path that Jesus Christ took on the way to crucifixion. It ends at the equally important and iconic Church of Holy Sepulchre, the place he is believed to be crucified and later buried. The devout faithfully trace it to identify with the suffering of Christ. There is no clear agreement on the length of the path and depending on who you choose to believe, it could be anywhere between 250 m and 600 m, tracing its route via narrow cobbled lanes, arched doorways and gently-stepped avenues.

The route is broken into 14 stations, each of them associated with a specific incident, story or encounter during the last journey. It starts with the place where Jesus is condemned to death and moves through the place where he donned the crown of thorns, where he stumbled and fell three times, where he met his mother Mary, where Simon of Cyrene was com manded to help Jesus and where Veronica wiped blood. Many of the stations are also marked by monasteries which take their names from these incidents and encounters such as the Monastery of Flagellation, Church of Our Lady of Spasm and Chapel of St Veronica.

The last five stations are located within the Church of Holy Sepulchre. A large stone edifice, it has an air of poignancy and piety. It is also dimly lit but beautiful mosaics on the vaulted ceilings reflect the light and give it a very unreal look. Inside is located a large boulder that is protected by glass and is called Calvary or Golgotha where Christ is believed to have been crucified. While all these are accessed by narrows sets of wooden stairs, near the entrance of the church is a large rectangular slab called the Stone of Anointing where Christ's body was prepared for burial.

Anita Rao-Kashi

ETM5MAR17 

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