Saturday, October 1, 2011

Jerusalem, Old City

The Old City of Jerusalem is not easy to write about. So many people have written so many different things about it... Unless you are a historian or an archaeologist, your own personal perspective on it is apt to be trite, or ignorant, or both (and even if you are, it might still be that). So with this disclaimer—because I am neither historian nor an archaeologist, and I'll do my best to avoid being trite, and to keep my ignorance to myself—here is what I love about the Old City.

It is like a human anthill. You might be following a street that turns into a staircase, leads up to a roof of a building, proceeds there for a while, gets back down... Other streets are completely enclosed in stone arches, so you cannot even see the sky, and as you walk there you are wondering: are there, at this moment, other people walking above my head, or under my feet?.. and you cannot help but feel yourself a part of very complicated system which you cannot quite understand, but which, hopefully, has some kind of its own communal intelligence—like an ant colony.

Thousands of years of civilization have left these layers—of soil, of stones, of desires, of emotions... In Jerusalem, time thickens and becomes tangible, you can almost touch it. And so does the intensity of emotions. Jerusalem is very personal to me; even its name, Yerushalaim, sounds like caress...

And emotions don't really need thousands of years, a few is enough... Here, for example, look at these photos:



Same people, same place... the one on the left is from our trip in 1999. David is 5... Temma is 18 months old.

And here is another pair: David and I in front of the Hurva synagogue, then and now... The synagogue sure looks different, but so does the couple in front of it... I don't know which change is more amazing.






What are you supposed to feel when your baby is taller than you? (Not necessarily a whole foot taller, like in this case...) For my take on this, see Irreverent Reflections of a Bar Mitzvah Parent, written in between of David's and Temma's Bnei Mitzvot, from the perspective of somebody who's been there, done that, seen what happens in the next few years—and is now about to embark on the next adventure. Having children is not just an accomplishment, but more of a spiritual journey (it is a process rather than a result)... and as such, deserves Timely Updates, too.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Israel, part 3: Acco

The day after visiting Ir David I came down with a flu, and had to miss the trip to Herodium and most of Haifa. Our next trip was to Acco (photos 119 - 129).

The Old Town is designed, understandably, as a maze. There are signs helpfully pointing you to various landmarks; if you follow them, you invariably end up in the bazaar. I am sure this is done on purpose. We finally succeded in finding the old Turkish Bath, now converted into the Municipal Museum (where they make you listen to one of the stupidest shows I've ever heard - and I've heard a few - otherwise they won't let you in), and then the Underground Crusaders' Fortress, which was our main goal. Honestly, if you want to see a Crusaders' fortress, go to Belvoir. The one in Acco is bigger but nowhere as beautiful. You walk through a series of bare underground rooms, and in each one the audio guide tells you the same thing: "This magnificent ... (fill in the blank: hall, refectory, entrance way, etc.)... was used by Crusaders. Then it was completely filled with earth, by such-and-such Sultan in preparation for such-and-such war, and later uncovered by the archaeologists."

According to Frommer, one of the knights' halls contains a patch of plaster in the ceiling, where fifty-something Irgun fighters escaped from the British prison-fortress directly overhead. The audio guide apparently didn't find this information sufficiently important to mention, and I didn't succeed in locating the patch on my own. Disappointed, I was ready to declare the tour a total waste of time, when suddenly we arrived at the next stop... a magnificent latrine!



Impressive, isn't it? Armed with this new insight into the day-to-day lives of Crusaders, we headed back to the ramparts for lunch. On the way, we passed through a Crusaders' tunnel (which was probably also filled with earth at some point, and not completely dug out, because in certain parts even Temma and I had to duck, not to mention Alex and David).


Finally, this is my favorite part of the trip to Acco - lunch with a view.



Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Israel, part 2: Jerusalem, City of David

I was going to post from Israel, but the vacation proved too hectic... The post about Zippori ended up the only one I managed to write there. When I returned, I was going to continue describing our vacation, in chronological order: Belvoir, Gamla, Tel Aviv - Yafo, then Jerusalem, and so on. Now I know, this is not going to happen either. So look at the photos.

They, at least, are in chronological order, so far:
- Zippori: 1 - 25
- Belvoir: 26 - 32
- Gamla: 37 - 53
- Neve Tzedek: 54 - 63
- Old Yafo: 64 - 74

And finally, photos 76 - 100: our tour of Ir David, the City of David, just to the south of the Old City of Jerusalem. We went there early in the morning: you walk along the Old City walls, just past the entrance towards the Western Wall, turn right - and go down, maybe a 100 yards. It is on a little hill by itself, but lower than the Temple Mount. This is supposedly one of the reasons this city survived unmolested in the ancient times: it was in a valley surrounded by higher hills - so enemies couldn't see it from far away - however, once they descended into the valley and saw the city, they had to get up on the hill from there, to conquer it. And the city had good defenses, very good: strong walls and such. The city belonged to the Jebusites, and that was precisely the reason King David decided to make it his capital: he wanted a city that was situated between the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, but did not belong to either tribe... politics, you know... So he gathered his army and approached the city walls, from below. And from the top of the walls, the Jebusites kept laughing and yelling: "David, you are not going to come here! The lame and the blind will stop you..." - and so on. And, just as it is described in 2 Samuel 5:8, King David told his troops: "Go and find the tzinnor, get through it to the city, and hit the Jebusites where it hurts, whether lame or blind or whatever" - because I guess he didn't like it when somebody laughed down at him, any more than any other king. So, what is the tzinnor?

It was a popular setup, at the time, to have a city up on a hill, and the water source - a spring - down below, outside the city walls. However, the city population had to have access to the water source in case of siege, so various ingenious systems were developed to protect the spring, cover it from the outside, and then dig a tunnel through the mountain to get to the water from inside the city. A good example of this can be seen in Megiddo, which we visited in 2007.


Jebusites supposedly has a similar system, with tzinnor being the tunnel, and David's plan of attack was - instead of storming the walls - to find the spring, climb up the tunnel, and get to the Jebusites through their soft underbelly, so to speak. Jebusites did not expect that: maybe they thought their spring was well hidden or well protected, or maybe they didn't realize that the narrow shaft, used for dropping down a bucket tied to a rope and pulling it back up, can also be used for climbing up by agile warriors, led by a man thinking "outside the box": the very same man who earlier thought of using a slingshot in a nontraditional way, also with great success...

This is an appealing story, and one that makes sense. What's more, I was shown the tzinnor (called Warren's Shaft, because it was discovered by a British officer, Charles Warren) when we went to Ir David in 2007. I took a photo of it then...

... just as I did now (photo 79).


Except now, according to out guide Arie, they do not think this is the tzinnor. New discoveries, shown in my photos 80 and 81, suggest that the Jebusites did not have to fill up their buckets by dropping them through a shaft, because they had built an elaborate walkable tunnel leading all the way to the spring. The spring itself was protected by a strong tower, with walls up to 4 meters thick and at least 8 meters tall.

Archeologists date the tower and the original tunnel at 1800 BCE, and say that only much later, about 800 BCE, the tunnel was made deeper for some reason, and Warren's Shaft (which appears to be a natural carst formation, not man-made) thus became connected to the water supply system. Case closed.

I have to confess: I was very disappointed. Here I had photos of the tzinnor, and it turned out not to be the tzinnor. What's more, where IS the tzinnor? Where had David's men climbed, on their way to defeat the enemy and claim the new capital for their genius king? When I asked Arie, he said something along the lines: "We don't know exactly what the word 'tzinnor' meant in Biblical times, it might have meant the whole water supply system. All we know is that these very stones date back 3800 years, they could have seen Abraham, they could have seen David." Now, I don't know about you, but I personally wasn't satisfied. And right then and there, I decided to continue believing that David's men climbed up Warren's Shaft - until such time when the archeologists give me a viable alternative. At that moment, my decision was based on pure stubbornness, with maybe a little gut feeling thrown in. But rereading the whole story now, I want to make a case: the fact that the water supply contained a pool, elaborate tunnel, and tower 3800 years ago would have been relevant if it was Abraham trying to storm the city. David was actually doing this 800 years later, that is, 3000 years ago. And we know that 2800 years ago the tunnel was made deeper "for some reason." So I can suggest a very good reason for making a tunnel deeper: maybe the water left? Maybe the spring shifted, and they had to dig deeper to get to the water? And maybe it started happening earlier, so by the time David was about to storm the city, the old water supply system was no longer used, and Jebusites actually DID get their water by dropping the buckets down a vertical shaft? For lack of a better theory, I am going to stick to that one for now.

The tzinnor (or the non-tzinnor) and the rest of the tunnels that might have witnessed David storming the city are now dry, because the waters from the Gihon spring were diverted into a newer and bigger tunnel built by King Hezekiah some 300 years later. The Assyrians were coming, and he had to secure the water supply. To save time, they were working from both ends towards each other, cutting through stone and obviously receiving directions to turn a bit to the left or to the right at several points, and somehow met in the middle. Modern scientists still haven't figured out how they managed that. When I first heard about this, I said irreverently that they were probably singing really loud, but after going through the tunnel and seeing for myself I was really impressed. Photo 87 shows where the two groups met - there is maybe 80 cm vertical difference in the ceiling (the floor, of course, had to be made level), and there were several abrupt turns in the tunnel both before and after the meeting place. The captions really tell it all, start at photo 82 and click forward, and you'll get a virtual tour.

Later photos show recent discoveries - portions of a huge staircase leading to the Temple Mount. Again, the captions have a lot of information, so I am not going to repeat it. Another large chunk of the excavations was supposed to be opened to the public on Yom HaAtzmaut (soon after our departure), so if you visit Ir David now you'll be able to see even more.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

In Israel

Our vacation started so intensely that I haven't had time to post. We managed to pack a few weeks' worth of activity in the first two days, and continued at a decent pace for the rest of the week. Now in Haifa with a flu (yep, it's a bummer!) I finally have a chance to sort through the several hundred photos taken so far, and post a few impressions... while the rest of my family is out exploring...

Ok, so here goes... The whole concept of time in Israel deserves a separate essay, at least. Time here takes on so many additional dimensions and qualities: length, speed, density... Sometimes it flies, sometimes it stands still. Sometimes it stretches: we flew in on Friday, and by Sunday afternoon it felt like that was a few weeks ago, and even the morning of that same Sunday felt like distant past... And everything is either 2000 years old, or 5000 years old, or somewhere in between - when you place your palm or brush your fingertips over the stones that have seen people and events too mindboggling to contemplate, it seems that time thickens to a consistency where you can almost touch it.
First stop, Zippori. I've never seen so many different kinds of mozaics all in one place: Roman, Hellenistic, Jewish... Below is the most famous one, often referred to as "the Mona Lisa of the Galilee" (although in reality she is probably Aphrodite, based on the fact that she is beautiful and has a little boy with a bow and arrow in the background).

And finally, the floor of a synagogue, 5th century AD, with mosaics including, among others, a Zodiak design, as well as the binding of Isaac, and inscriptions in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.


I cannot possibly post all the images here, you'll have to wait until they are in my Picasa album. Just one more: we are walking down a Roman street. Talking about time... see the ruts from the ancient wheels?


They were then, and we are now, and this was here...

To be continued...