Monday, December 31, 2012

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.
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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!



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