The Sounds of Synchronicity

The Sound of Synchronicity 12/27

This morning I awoke to the call to prayer from the mosque nearby. I had a hard time getting back to sleep which is often the case, but I found myself lulled into a dreamy in between. I decided to use the time to meditate when I heard the church bells ringing and thought maybe this was my cue to just get out of bed. I had to be up in a bit anyway to start my day of mud at the Dead Sea.

A view of the morning coming up in the Old City

I was out of the Austrian Hospice and started making my way over to where I was going to be picked up for the tour. The sun was barely up and it was amazing to see how quiet and dead the alleyways were in the market. The only activity was from cleaning crews and the only shop in the entire market open was a broom shop. The juxtaposition from night and day was amazing.

The only door open on the right is to a broom shop.

I ended up on the outside of Jaffa gate waiting for my tour bus to arrive. It was late which made me wonder if I had misunderstood the directions. It finally did arrive, but I knew as soon as I boarded there was an issue. The bus driver immediately said, “so, we have a problem.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, we accidentally overbooked the tour and we don’t have room, but we have two options for a solution. You can either take the tour tomorrow for free or we are trying to see if another tour group has room for you.”
“Okay.” thinking to myself that somehow this doesn’t surprise me.
As he’s on the phone waiting to hear if there is room on another group, he says “Tomorrow is the sunrise tour, we start at 4AM and hike Masada, then go to Ein Gedi, and then the Dead Sea.”
Immediately I knew that was the option I really wanted. Every time I looked at those tours I couldn’t fit it into my itinerary, but here it was being offered for free. The only snag was that I needed to pick up my rental car before the agency closed for Sabbath at 2PM.
“I’ll get you there, promise.” was his response when I told him my concerns.
“Okay, I’ll do it!”
WIth big smiles on both of our faces, I wished the group fond farewell and made my way back into the Old City. I was thinking to myself, “I wonder if he was nervous if I was going to throw a shit fit about that?” In the end I didn’t really care, I got to go on a sweet tour for free! Time for coffee!

With coffee and fresh chocolate croissant in hand I ate breakfast on the wall of the Citadel, watched people walking to work, and felt the city wake up. Part of me thought I should head to the mosque, but somehow I thought getting into a mosque dressed in beachwear probably wasn’t the best idea, so back to the hospice for a quick change.

I love a good cup of coffee on a morning like this!

From the hospice I made my way back to the Western Wall and was excited by the potential for my new day. First, I checked to see if they had any underground (a misnomer) tour of the wall and, of course, they had one ticket left for the next tour in 30minutes (it’s usually sold out weeks in advance). I’ll take it!

With 30 minutes left, I opted for a second visit to the wall instead of trying to squeeze in a hurried visit to the Dome on the Rock. When I got to the main area I could hear singing and celebration and looked to see all sorts of cameras in use to commemorate the Bar Mitzvahs happening. Apparently, Thursdays is the big day to do that at the wall. Although there were a lot of families there, the woman’s section was relatively empty. I stopped and talked with the information attendant who explained about the Bar Mitzvahs and gave a paper on which to write a prayer for the wall.

Add caption

I wrote my prayer and folded the paper into a tiny rectangle. I was having flashbacks to middle school when note writing was forbidden so we made origami notes or stealth tiny foldings to pass around hoping not to get caught. Prayer in hand, I saw a spot open up, so I made my way up there. I’ll admit that I was somewhat intimidated; this isn’t my religion and this isn’t my wall, but the information lady said that everyone is welcome and insisted I needed to go put my prayer in the wall so I was really just doing as I was told. Pushing aside my Gentile inhibitions I found my place at the wall, a perfect crack with a shelf that could hold my folded prayer. I sat there absorbing the moment, said my prayer, connected with the wall, and found my ears tuning into the sounds of the surrounding prayers of the women near me, the celebratory music for the Bar Mitzvahs in the distance, and the singing of prayers coming from the men’s section. Suddenly, I was even more thankful my tour was overbooked this morning.

My prayer....

It was past time for my underground wall tour, which isn’t really underground. This was a great way to see how the city was built and gave me a better appreciation for the markets, buildings, and the wall. In short, everything was built up against the wall over time creating the city it is today with layers of archways underneath these buildings. The tour takes you through these archways and lets you see the “underground” portions of the wall and the city.

I made friends with the tour guide and another participant, Levi. As we made our way back to the main wall I was given all sorts of tips on places to eat and things to do in my planned stops. Levi had just been in Scottsdale for work and works in the healthcare industry. Today he was going to propose to his girlfriend, but was nervous because she was sick at the hotel. I wished him luck and congratulations as we parted. I was headed to try to get into the mosque.

The mosque, sadly, was closed so I took the opportunity to walk outside the gates and search the for the City of David. Unable to find the entrance, I found myself over on the Mount of Olives. The views were stunning!

So happy to be enjoying these views!

I walked into the Tomb of Mary alone except for an Orthodox Catholic priest. He came up to me and started to speak Russian. I explained I wasn’t Russian and he said, “you Russian?”
Thinking, I just said I wasn’t, “no I’m not Russian.”
“Where you from?”
“The U.S.”
“But you Russian.”
“No, not Russian. From the U.S.”
“But, you not Russian?”
“Uh, no not Russian.” Unless there was something my parents didn’t tell me.
“Hmm, not Russian. Okay.”
Okay, exactly. I’d been mistaken for a lot of other nationalities but Russian was a new one for me.

I paid my respects to Mary’s tomb and went out to the sunshine. I thought I’d give the City of David one more try so I started hiking again. A group of Hasidic Jews passed me. Ten minutes later I noticed music being played from a cemetery and looked down to see an artist playing his guitar in front of some old monument in the cemetery. Just above him, the Hasidic Jews were gathering around a grave. I watched the scene as the music played thinking how perfectly incongruent the soundtrack was for the scene.

The artist is the very tiny things at the bottom.

The gathering.

Continuing on my walk I was determined to find the City of David. It was there that I promised a friend I would do the aqueduct tunnel tour. I had a mission! Veering around some construction I found it, bought my ticket, and made my way up to the viewing deck. Just at that moment all of the mosques surrounding the city began to play their call to prayers. I was surrounded by the deep bass of the calls. I noticed it was different than other prayers that I heard in other countries, this seemed less nasal and more melodic. In the middle of the prayers, the church bells started. What an amazing city, where three of the world’s major religions can make beautiful music together! I took my time sitting in a beautiful garden absorbing the sounds letting my muscles relax and thinking how special of a place this is.

One of Israel's cats in my garden :)

With the calls over, I went to complete my mission in the tunnels. These tunnels were created to bring water into the City of David and were started from opposite ends with only the sounds of the other side hammering to keep them on track. They lined up exactly except for being just a few feet off in height. The original plan was to go into the tunnel with water, but it was 70cm deep and freezing cold. My TOMS were not up for that so I opted for the dry tunnel but sent off a group of Canadians with cheers.

After touring the rest of the City of David I was in perfect timing for the mosque. While I waited in line I met some girls traveling from California and a friend they met here from Germany. Twenty minutes into our wait a suspicious package was found in the mosque so no more guests would be let in. Sigh. I think I’m just not supposed to go in. Off we went to get lunch instead.

The closest I'll get to the Dome on the Rock and post-lunch pic with my new lunch buddies.

After lunch I decided to split off to tour the city from above on the rampart walk. A great way to see into the backyards and getter better view of life in the Old City. I turned one corner and heard music blaring. I looked down to see them filming a music video near the Damascus gate....a little different than a Brittany Spears video.

Maybe it's not that different from Brittany.....

I ended the walk above there and decided it was time to get this elusive Kanafeh I’d been recommended. I was hungry and not to be deterred from a cheesy dessert that would supposedly change my life. Somehow, I found myself in the Church of the Holy Selpucher instead. This time there was barely anyone there so I took the opportunity to go into the edicule. I came out to find the sounds of the monks singing. I followed the trail of incense and song to the slab of the anointing. I watched as a processional of monks, nuns, and religious individuals joined in song through the church. Beautiful!

My view at the end of the Rampart Walk.

Another view out onto the city from the walk.

Feeling full from my experiences but with an empty stomach, it was kanafeh time. My journey through the market was successful; I had kanafeh in hand and ready to be devoured in my hotel room.

Cheese, glorious cheese!

As I ate my delicious cheese dessert, I thought about what a wonderful day of music I experienced and how it made being at all of these places so much more special and memorable. I was grateful for not being on the tour and remembered my parting words to the bus driver as he apologized to me again, “everything happens for a reason, I’m sure there is something I’m supposed to see here today. If not, I’ll make the most of it.” That I did.

Life is good!

Lost and found

Lost and found....12/26/12

So, when we last met, I was enjoying the sights and sounds of Christmas time in Bethlehem.  Today was a blur. A blur of markets, spices, sounds, religions, cultures, food, experiences, and alleyways. I had to look at my pictures to remind me of everything I had done, but when it came down to it, I think I was in an incense induced stupor that I didn’t have many to look at.

This morning I woke up and was antsy to make my way over to Jerusalem. I had a list of things a mile long that I wanted to see and do and felt pressure that I wouldn’t be able to do them with the limited amount of time I had there.

I finished breakfast with Johnny, the elderly Norwegian, and his wife. He was so hard of hearing that he would ask me a question and then keep talking. His wife kept giving me looks like, “you see what I’m dealing with?” Made me laugh. I said my goodbyes and schlepped my bags out to the street trying to retrace my 3AM journey in reverse to the crossing. I made the 5 minute jaunt down the street, but of course not without be offered a taxi ride (20 feet from the station). I meandered through the serpentine exit and out for more taxi fun. I’m pretty sure I got ripped off, but I wasn’t in the mood to fight too much about the price.

Off we went, with my new promised best friend driving me to the Old City of Jerusalem. Although he was overpriced he did manage to speed, maneuver through traffic, bypass security barriers, and get out of the car to yell at some idling cars to move, all to get me to my front door.

I dropped my bags at the former castle, my new home for the next 2 days, the Austrian Hospice. It is located near the Damascus Gate of the Old City which puts it right in the middle of the Arab market. This means you enter and exit from the hustle and bustle of a very busy market and are immediately plunged into a quiet, very clean Austrian atmosphere. Love it!

A view from the Austrian Hospice into the Arab Market.

My first chore was to get the lay of the land so I chose a direction and began to walk, snaking my way through the crowds, absorbing the colors, smells, and energy of the market. In less than 5 minutes I found myself outside the Old City via the Damascus gate...oops, wrong choice. I retraced my steps back through the market and started noticing signs tucked behind hanging purses, shawls, and lanterns pointing to different landmarks. I think I spent a good hour getting lost, then found, then lost again much to the entertainment of the local shop keepers. I finally popped out near Jaffa Gate which is on the West side (opposite of where I started) and thankfully found a tourist info center. Given I had such a good experience at the airport I thought I’d try my luck again.

The Damascus Gate.

Inside I got a map, was told I was out of luck for seeing Dome on the Rock and the mosque (both closed), but I was given excellent directions to the church of the Holy Sepulcher, the Western Wall, and a nice coffee place. First order of business, I needed caffeine STAT.

Love the color of the market!

With my coffee fix curbed I retraced the map and decided I would try for the church of the Holy Sepulcher first. Okay, so it was three rights and then left...or was it two rights and then a left? Crap. My map wasn’t helping me. Maybe the guide book has a better map....that’s a negative. Okay, time to get lost again.

Getting lost isn't so bad when you have great stuff to look at and smell!

I think I spent another hour following signs for the church and going in circles but never finding it. In the meantime, I had offers of guides (for a small fee of course) every time I took out my guidebook. Then, I finally saw a Franciscan monk...maybe he’ll lead me there. So I decided to do Operation Friar and became his shadow (cue Mission Impossible theme song). I wasn’t alone on this mission; it made me feel better knowing I wasn’t the only one who had trouble finding the place. Next thing I know, he made a critical left that I had never seen in my prior expeditions and then we landed in yet another portion of the market that led to a small nondescript entry into Christianity’s holiest place on earth. You’d think they have a bit more signage, but it was clear they had plenty of business.

Some of the "signage" inside the church walls.

I walked in to find people kneeling in prayer and rubbing a huge stone slab on which Jesus’ body was prepared after he was crucified. The devout think that rubbing the slab with oil will bring the spirit of protection to them. My senses were overwhelmed by incense and the scent of rose from the oil. I made my way through the church to observe crowds and more crowds. I can only imagine what this place is like during the summer.

People paying their respects to the anointing slab.

I came upon the rotunda filled with a huge “edicule” which houses the Holy Sepulcher aka where Jesus was entombed. It was hard to take in everything with so many people snapping pictures and crowding in line to go in. I’m not a religious person, although I am very spiritual (more than I let people know), so I decided it wasn’t important to go inside the edicule. I was about to leave the church when something told me to go upstairs.

Tourists entering to view the Holy Sepulcher.

I went up and found a huge shrine on the spot where Jesus was crucified. Again, crowds and a monk serving as a human traffic cop. There was something disparate about this scene: everyone trying to get their turn at touching the stone of the crucifixion while pushing and invading each other’s space in the meantime a Franciscan Monk is literally having to yell and pull people out. I was about to give up as this went against every spiritual bone in my body, but something told me to stay again.

Just I was about to get up to the front the monk said no more. “You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me, right now?!!” went through my head. Then I turned to see a new Franciscan monk appear in ceremonial garb with his incense making his way through the church stopping at the stations of the cross, praying, and shaking his incense. So, reframe: “How freakin’ cool is this? I get a front row seat of this awesome ceremony.”

Prayer in motion.

Orthodox Christan Priest giving his prayers at the site of the crucifixion.

So after this I felt like I needed to give the church one more time through with a different frame of mind. I made my way back to watch more of the ceremony being held at the edicule and that’s when I heard the Orthodox Christians start their chanting in their section of the church behind me. So beautiful! I just sat there absorbing the incense, the sounds reverberating through the space and through me, seeing this beautiful place. How amazing! Now, I felt like I had seen the church and could leave. I sent out a mental “thank you” to the universe for that experience and made my way outside.

An artist painting his experience in the church.

Okay, back in the market, I decided I needed to give up on the map, but with one last look I made the executive decision I would intentionally get lost and just keep heading in a specific direction. Goal: the Western Wall. This time was easier. Suddenly I popped out of an alleyway and there was an entrance. I joined into the flow of the crowd heading through the security check and found myself on the steps looking down at the wall. Amazing!

The Western Wall.

I watched from afar taking in the scenery. Woman on the right praying in their small section. Men on the left. Outside family and tourists were meandering and taking pictures. Down the stairs I went with a beeline to the woman’s area. It was crowded so I held back, but I took seat on a chair and just sat there. I watched each individual do their own ceremony of prayer paying respect to the wall, one of their holiest places on earth. I watched some become emotional with excitement as they ran up to the wall while others were in tears. I watched observants retreat backwards after their prayers as a sign of respect. Kisses were given to the wall, prayers placed in the cracks, and the spirit of Judaism manifested in each individual. Beautiful!

I sat there for a long time absorbing everything. Appreciating the moment and sending out another “thank you” to the universe for this moment. I could have sat there forever but decided I needed to explore elsewhere which meant I needed plenty of time for getting lost again.

Descending the steps into the Western Wall.

I lost track of time so the major sites were closed. The rest of the evening I explored the market and went onto the rooftops to check out the Old City from above. I looked down into the windows to discover the area of the market I had traced back and forth 10 times today. With that final look at the market below, I felt like I had the lay of the city. It was time to head back to my castle and get ready for some playtime in the mud. Happy and feeling full from my experiences I easily made it home.

One of the shop keepers wanted to take my picture of front of his shop on my way home.

Merry Christmas!

Given I was up until almost 4AM and then couldn’t sleep because I slept too much on the plane I only got a few hours of sleep. That said, I had a wonderful Christmas and I hope y’all did too!

I woke up to the prayers of the Mosque early in the morning, and then again to my neighbor yelling “Thank God, thank God, thank God!” I think he was happy for another day. I eventually forced myself out of bed around 9AM to make myself presentable for breakfast. My guesthouse is very Euro (i.e. I can touch the opposite walls with my arms extended) and of course I couldn’t figure out how to get hot water this morning, so wet wipe shower it was.

I could smell breakfast wafting from upstairs. My tummy was rumbling (Transaero is not the best for in-air meals), so I followed my nose to Johnny’s apartment. I knocked, but no answer and I could hear voices so I decided to enter. When I opened the door I had this odd combination of comfort yet feeling out of place. Out of place because I was being served breakfast by Johnny and his kids in his home, decorated for Christmas, on Christmas day. I felt like I was intruding. Yet, comfortable as he and the 6 other guests warmly welcomed me to sit down and eat the homemade meal.

Ignoring my anti-carb regimen I dove into the freshly made pancakes and slathered them with cream and nutella and slurped down the freshly brewed tea. I quickly learned all the guests had been here to see the midnight mass. There was one man on holiday from LA, a few French people, 3 German girls backpacking, and an elderly Norwegian gentleman that started to talk my ear off about his efforts to promote peace here and his efforts to promote organic farming throughout Europe and the US. He would be a perfect Berkeley resident. The Norwegian took his leave from the table and sat watching the mass on TV. He began chanting with the priests giving the rest of us background music while we shared stories.

I learned that my host was on TV and interviewed by multiple stations about Bethlehem. I guess he’s locally world famous and gets requests for interviews a lot. His house (the guesthouse) is surrounded on three sides by the wall that separates Israel from Palestinian territory (CBS interview: http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7406228n).

His house on the left with the wall wrapping around it on the right.

He was also explaining that Bethlehem started out with a majority of Christians and now the area has only 2% representing the different faiths because they often leave. In his words, “They cannot live, they cannot be happy. They are stuck in between the battle of Israel and Palestine.” This is a new view point I hadn’t considered, but a topic that I didn’t really want to delve into on Christmas day, so I happily accepted his change of topic while he was giving me a tour in his Peugeot on the way to the Old City.

He showed me the view to Jericho and into Jordan. The view back into Jerusalem. The view of the Old City with the mosque side by side the Church of the Nativity. Once again he got me front and center into the square to dropped me off to start my self-guided tour. Before parting ways he insisted I call him for a ride or not to get into a taxi unless the price was less than 20 shekels. Feeling like I had a surrogate father, I thanked him and told him not to worry.

Off I went into the square and immediately could hear people playing music which drew me in. There were people dancing, singing, and celebrating as they waited to get into the church. The vibe was joyful and celebratory. I took a video.



I decided to wander in the other direction into Manger square and up through the shopped line streets reminiscent of Morocco (Danielle, I wish you were with me right now, you would love it!). Colors, spices, smells, wandering through alleyways....Coley is happy!

The Mosque

Looking up into the market lined street.

Super happy Coley!

At some point I decided to head back to the church. When I got there I could hear more music and could see an undulating mass of people outside the church. As I got closer, it was a group of priests from Mexico, playing a myriad of instruments while a huge crowd was dancing around them.

One of the priests singing and playing la guitarra.

His backup crew.

Look at my video, and you can see the swaying and rocking from me joining in (sorry if it makes you dizzy). Everyone was laughing, smiling, singing...such an amazing experience this feeling of connectedness from joy with total strangers.

The musicians led us into the cloister area where they gathered around a St. Jude statue in the center and the rest of us danced around them.

In the cloister.

Inside the Church of the Nativity with its chandeliers.

I finally made my way into St. Catherine’s church, which is where they do midnight mass. It was smaller than I thought it would be. I’m not usually a church person, my church is out in nature, but I always like to sit in them a get a sense of the vibe. Some churches feel oppressive and really negative to me, while others feel sterile, and others feel warm and comforting. St. Catherine, to me, felt happy. Maybe I was picking up on everyone being there in such a good mood, but regardless I could have sat there forever.

I moved onto the Church of the Nativity which was crowded and chaotic. It was adorned in chandeliers hanging from a wood roof and multiple glass lanterns in different colors.

I just thought this was a beautiful physical
manifestation of people's prayers on Christmas Day.

I also like that one prayer helps lights another.

People were amassed in line to go down into the grotto to see the site of Jesus’ birth. I found a back door line and quickly made it down there to watch mass in the grotto. A Franciscan monk was giving mass in Latin in a space no larger than 3ft x 4ft with people clambering to take pictures.

I watched as people were so caught up in the act of getting pics that they forgot to just be there in the moment. Take the time people! Be in the moment. Your picture memories will be that much better if you take time to absorb it. Promise! I took my moment. Then turned around and had one of the monks help me get down to where the 14 pointed star marks the spot of Jesus’ birth. It’s so amazing to be someplace where religion comes to life.

I toured the rest of the church then headed out via the door of humility over to the Milk Grotto.

The door of humility because you
have to duck to get through.

This was less than impressive for me. It is supposedly where Mary and Joseph stopped to feed Jesus during their flight from Egypt and where a drop of milk spilled onto the rock turning it white. According to the Lonely Planet the legend has it that the rock will increase fertility and milk production in women who eat the rock. No thanks!

Everyone comes to touch this painting
in the Milk Grotto. You can see the magical
white rock surrounding it.

I made my way back to the church when I got a txt from a friend I made on the plane. An avid traveler, John, was here helping to film a project for unify.org. Spreading the message of universal love and a shift in consciousness post-Mayan Apocalypse. Yesterday his group filmed Palestinians forming a human peace sign. Today, in response, young Israelis were forming a human heart on Mt. Zion. He managed to make it over to Bethlehem for a quick meet up and tour through the old city.

We met up in St. Catherine’s and watched a little of their mass then headed out to Manger Square, both of us famished for food. We got roasted corn after some haggling and language barriers then made our way back through the streets meandering, comparing past, present, and future travel plans while looking for more sustenance.

Mass at St. Catherine's

He asked, “so are doing a Pilgrimage here?” This is probably the 5th time someone has asked me in some way shape or form “why Israel?” For the first time, I answered “I don’t know why I am here, but I think the reason will show itself soon.” I went through the mechanics of how it happened but I don’t have a good reason for being here other than it is a place that I always wanted to go to, my friend urged me to go, there is an amazing amount of spiritual and cultural history in this very small nation, and for some reason everything  came together very easily to get here. When things come together that easily I usually figure there is a reason and it will reveal itself. My last few trips were like that. In hindsight the last one was about the spirit of adventure, the one before that, spontaneity, the one before that, freedom. I know, I know, why does a vacation need a theme? Why can’t it be about relaxing? Yours can be about relaxing, mine just seem to always have a theme that comes out (sometimes in hindsight, sometimes in the midst). Oddly, I am quite relaxed and haven’t been here for 24 hours yet. That’s a rarity for me.

Anyway, we found sustenance at a local cafe and from there sent him off to Jerusalem to join his friends. Tomorrow I’ll be heading to the Old City in Jerusalem and we’ll meet up again. I made my way back to the square I tried calling Johnny for a ride but now my cell wouldn’t work so I took it at as my cue to enjoy the walk back home.

I meandered along the main road. I stopped in Stars & Bucks coffee shop at the request of my friend (with a pic to prove it).

As requested, Soffer.

I enjoyed the views into Jerusalem, Jericho, and back towards the Old City. 

Everywhere I went tourists and locals wished each other a genuine Merry Christmas. 

The Old City behind me.

Two miles down the road I came to the wall and followed that to my guest house. 

At the corner before I got home was graffiti that read: Love is my religion. Recognizing our shared humanity can overcome ANY division imposed on us. 

I sat there absorbing it and thought how true it is. After all, all religions are built on love: self love, love for others, love for humanity, and love for terra firma. The devil is, quite literally, in the details. This simple graffiti message resonated with me and I thought maybe this is my theme? I certainly felt it dancing with hundreds of other people from different ethnicities, faiths, and ages. That to me is the true spirit of Christmas: sharing love.