| Submitted by: John Mittler, Finland |
| Submission Date: 28 March 2007 |
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We had to drive slowly behind a power shovel that was clearing snow off the road. The queue of cars often stopped for a long time, and no one really knew what was going on. In two hours we proceeded only a few kilometers from Wadi Musa.
After 12 o’clock we encountered a long queue of cars coming from the opposite direction — living proof that the road was finally open all the way to the main highway. (The snowfall was limited to the high mountains only, and on the main highway 20 km away from Petra there never was any snowfall at all.) When the queue of cars had passed us, we were able to go past the power shovel and drive with nearly normal speed.
While the queue was stopped on the snowy road, my taxi driver chatted with another taxi driver on the back seat of our car, and haggled with him a price for taking me to Sheikh Hussein border terminal. They were speaking in Arabic, but I understood enough of the conversation to know that the other taxi driver agreed a price half of what I was paying to my taxi driver. The first driver earned 80 dollars for driving 20 km in 4 hours and a half, and the other driver earned 70 dollars for driving 330 km in 3 hours and a half — plus the way back home.
When we finally got out of the snowy region and arrived on the four-lane highway to Amman, this second taxi-driver did not spare the gas pedal of his old Mercedes Benz, knowing that I was in a haste to catch a plane to Cairo. The speed meter showed more than 160 km/h, but the driver did not care to wear a seat belt. I wondered if there are any speed limits in Jordan, and if it is legal here to drive without a seat belt. Both questions were kind of answered when the driver occasionally slowed down to 80 km/h and held the seat belt on his lap, while passing a police checkpoint.
“I used to be a driver for the king in Amman”, the taxi driver said to me, while we were chatting about various topics. I did not ask how he had ended up driving an old Mercedes in southern Jordan, but the man was clearly a very skilled driver — sort of. Skilled in making narrow passes and forcing three cars side by side on two lanes. Skilled in making many risky things that are common on the roads in Jordan, but illegal in western countries.
We arrived at Sheikh Hussein border terminal at 16:30, and I believed that there still was some hope of reaching my flight to Cairo at 19:50 from Ben Gurion airport. The border crossing took a record-breaking three hours, however — even longer than the airport security checks take. While standing in numerous different queues behind a busload of Asian tourists, I slowly got used to the fact that I would miss my flight to Egypt. I had planned to end the day with a late night dinner on a luxurious restaurant boat on river Nile, but this dream would never come true.
When I finally got out of the border terminal, I called my car rental and extended the hire for another four days. Then I went to the shopping mall of Beyt Shean, and compensated the loss of a five-star Nile dinner cruise with a fast food meal at McDonald’s. Then I started driving towards Jerusalem via the Jordan Valley road.
There were two teenagers hitch-hiking under the lights of a road junction, a boy and a girl seemingly unrelated to each other, possibly from the same school or something. I picked them in my car, as they were travelling to the same destination as I, Jerusalem.
I tried to entertain my guests with music from the radio, but all Hebrew channels were airing talk shows, and music was available in Arabic only. After surfing from channel to channel for a while, I finally chose Radio Sawa, which plays a mixture of Arabic and American pop music. The sound of Arab music was soon mixed by Jewish snoring, as my two guests fell asleep, without waking up before we arrived in the noisy traffic of Jerusalem at 21:30.
The trip meter of the car showed 2730 km (of which 130 km had been driven today), as I parked on Mount Zion, and went strolling in the Old City in search of a hostel room. I took a room at Jaffa Gate hostel, and paid an outrageous price for one of the poorest accommodations that I have ever seen. The receptionist required all five nights to be paid in advance, and a sign on the wall said that there will be no refunds. Later on I found out why such a sign was necessary on the wall — I wanted to cancel my reservation and go somewhere else as soon as I saw my room without a window, and the showers with ice-cold water.
Not having a window in the room had one advantage, though: unlike most other rooms in the hostel, my room was not too cold. After the icy adventures in Petra, I welcomed the warmth of this windowless bunker room, and fell asleep around 23 o’clock.
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Fri 29 December 2006 (eve of Eid Adha)
The morning seemed bright enough for outdoor photography at 7 o’clock. I parked my car in front of Damascus Gate, and spent two hours strolling along the route of the ancient third wall of Jerusalem (which was built in 40 AD, and destroyed only three decades later). Photos taken along the route of the wall are available on a separate page, with a map indicating where each photo was taken.
At 9 o’clock I visited Petra Hostel near Jaffa Gate of the Old City, and paid 10 shekels for a warm shower (which was not available in the hostel where I was staying). Then I visited the modern city center, and refilled my cash reserves at a bank accepting credit card withdrawals.
At 10:30 I returned to the route of the ancient northern wall, and spent another two hours taking more photos of the area north of the Old City. (The four photos above and below were taken in the Jewish Morashah quarter, which is located west of Damascus Gate.)
At 13 o’clock I had seen enough of the northern wall route, and I returned to the Old City. During the next three hours I walked in the bazaars and on the rooftop promenade, taking photos of slum buildings and other interesting details of the Old City.
The building above is a school next to Redeemer’s Church. The “garden” below is a playing area for children on the rooftop promenade.
The 150° panorama above was taken over the Pool of Hezekiah towards east, from the balcony of Petra Hostel near Jaffa Gate.
Church of the Holy Sepulchre (above and below) is decorated in Catholic and Orthodox styles, which include extravagant images of holy persons shining in gold and silver. The alternative site of Golgotha, the Garden Tomb north of Damascus Gate, is maintained by Protestant Christians, and decorated in a more ascetic style that is typical for Protestant Christian shrines.
Life on the other side: a resident of East Jerusalem takes a nap outside the eastern wall of the Old City (north of Lion Gate), surrounded by piles of trash that are waiting to be burnt against the wall of the Old City.
Below are two more photos from the rooftop promenade, taken late in the afternoon.
I finished exploring the Old City at 16 o’clock, and drove to the modern city center to eat dinner. Then I returned to the Old City, and parked my car on Mount Zion. The trip meter of the car showed 2750 km, of which 20 km were driven today.
The rest of this Shabbat eve I spent at the hostel, reading newspapers and studying maps of Jerusalem (planning my activities for the following days, which I should have spent in Cairo and Luxor in Egypt, according to my original plans).
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Sat 30 December 2006 (Eid Adha)
I headed to Mount Zion at 6:45 in the morning, and spent two hours exploring the route of the ancient southern walls of Jerusalem. Photos taken along the route of the wall are available on a separate page, with a map indicating where each photo was taken.
I had some difficulties in tracing my exact location on the map when I walked on this route, because the southern hill of the Old City is mostly empty wasteland, and the few streets that run there had no names (neither on the map nor in the streetcorners). A compass would have been helpful, and a scout would have read the cardinal directions from the sun, of course — but I am not a scout, neither did I have a compass.
I would have wished to take a complete photo set of all houses that are located on the route of the ancient southern wall, but eventually I took very few photos in the south-eastern corner of the route, because I had lost track of my precise location on the map. Most houses in the region have two storeys and a very modest exterior.
After eating some breakfast, I climbed on the walls of the Old City at 10:30, and spent one hour strolling from Jaffa Gate to New Gate, Damascus gate, Lions Gate and the corner of the Temple Mount. Photos taken along this rampart walk are available on a separate page, with a map indicating where each photo was taken.
After the rampart walk I returned to my car on Mount Zion, to have lunch in the modern city center of Jerusalem. I naturally took some photos while walking through the Old City, including these two photos of the coat of arms of the Franciscan organization Custodia di Terra Santa.
At 12:30 I was back in the Old City, and I climbed on the wall promenade again, now strolling from Jaffa Gate to Zion Gate and Dung Gate. (The rampart walk can be entered at Jaffa Gate only, and one can choose to walk north towards Damascus Gate, or south towards Dung Gate.) Photos taken along this 45-minute promenade are available on a separate page, with a map indicating where each photo was taken.
After the southern rampart walk I strolled in the Old City until 15:50, taking photos on the narrow bazaars and on the rooftop promenades. The photo above is from Ararat street in the Armenian Quarter.
In the Visitor Center of Christ Church (near Jaffa Gate) I happened to find a model of ancient Jerusalem, designed by Johann Tenz at the end of the 19th century. This model is no longer considered accurate in all details, as archaelogists have collected more data during the 20th century, but it gives a good impression of the architectural atmosphere of ancient Jerusalem.
After 16 o’clock I drove to the modern city center to have dinner. The rest of the evening I spent at a Messianic meeting in Christ Church, which lasted nearly three hours, and used ceremonial styles borrowed from Judaism, mixed with the latest trends of Western charismatic Christianity.
The trip meter of the car showed 2760 km at the end of the day, of which 10 km were driven today.
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Sun 31 December 2006 (New Year’s eve)
I spent the last morning of the year in the Valley of Kidron, which is just outside the Old City of Jerusalem, on its south-eastern side. I walked to the place via the Cardo, the ancient colonnaded street that once crossed the entire Old City (in the Medieval era of Christian Crusaders).
A few years ago the Jewish city architect of Jerusalem gave orders for the demolition of 88 Arab houses (the homes of 1000 people) in the Valley of Kidron, in the el Bustan quarter of Silwan village. The demolition orders have not been executed to this day, however, because the issue is politically very sensitive, and would provide cheap fuel for anti-Israel protesters and terrorist propaganda.
Under normal circumstances, in practically any country in the world, the demolition orders would have been executed without delay, and without anyone else paying much attention to the issue than the residents of the area, who would need to pack their luggage and move to new homes elsewhere. The houses are mostly amateur or slum architecture, and the proposed national project would develop the area for the common good of all citizens.
But the problem is that in Israel–Palestine a thing called “common good” does not even exist. Large-scale building projects can be “good for Jews” or “good for Arabs”, but hardly both at the same time. This project would be good news for Jews and bad news for Arabs. Therefore this simple and small national park project, which would go unnoticed anywhere else in the world, has caught the attention of human rights organizations even before anything has been done.
To make the political jungle complete, this area is located on the Palestinian side of the Green Line border — or more correctly, inside the international UN zone of the 1947 partition plan, which Transjordan illegally annexed in 1948, and later Israel illegally annexed in 1980. The idea of a national park in this region would be excellent from historical and environmental aspects, but not from political ones — except possibly under neutral international rule.
(Note: These photos are from the Kidron Valley, but not specifically of those 88 houses that have been ordered for demolition.)
I continued walking north along the Kidron Valley, leaving the Silwan village behind and heading towards the valley of Gethsemane, which is just east of the Temple Mount. The paved street ends at the Gihon spring, and the dirt road leading to Jericho Street is a dead-end for cars, meant for pedestrians only.
The valley of Gethsemane is one of the most charming gardens of Jerusalem in the spring, when the vegetation is lush, and Arab shepherds are occasionally seen tending their sheep among the olive trees. Now in the winter the garden was not in its most attractive condition.
Jericho Street crosses the valley near the churches of Gethsemane, and the Kidron Valley continues yet north towards El Joz. The two photos below show the last section of Kidron Valley, from Jericho Street in the south to El Joz and Mount Scopus in the north.
Having seen enough of Kidron Valley, I wanted to take a few more photos of the route of the ancient northern wall of Jerusalem. The waste processing service of East Jerusalem was in full operation outside the north-eastern corner of the Old City, burning garbage that had been piled up against the wall.
The majestic building at the corner of Neviim Street and Shivtey Israel Street used to be a French hospital. Nowadays it is home to Israel’s Ministry of Education. Remnants of the ancient northern wall of Jerusalem lie somewhere under this building, quite exactly along the route that the camera is directed at.
An old house was being relocated into the Mamillah quarter, just west of the Old City. Each stone is numbered, to ensure that the relocated building will be the exact replica of the original house in every detail.
I ate salted pretzels for lunch at 11 o’clock, while walking in the Old City. I was trying to find the model of Jerusalem in the First Temple era, but first I encountered this piece of ancient wall from the First Temple period.
The model of Jerusalem in the First Tempe era was small and not very detailed, covering only one square meter. I was let into the exhibition auditorium together with a busload of American Jewish girls, a group of potential future immigrants hosted by Taglit Birthright Israel. We watched a video presentation that focused solely on the Jewish history of Jerusalem — conveniently omitting the Canaanite, Hellenistic, Roman, Christian and Islamic periods. (Well, someone has to teach the correct patterns of thinking to the next generation...)
At 14 o’clock I quit my explorations of the Old City, and took a warm shower in Petra Hostel. The rest of the day I spent driving mostly in East Jerusalem (without being inspired to take any photos), and studying the numerous maps that I had of Jerusalem in different historical periods.
The trip meter of the car showed 2790 km at the end of the day, of which 30 km were driven today.
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Mon 01 January 2007 (New Year’s day)
The Temple Mount was supposed to be my first destination on the New Year’s Day, but the site remained closed all day — as it had done on the previous day, and on the day before that. A new different political or religious dispute arose day after day, and I never got the chance to enter the Temple Mount during this journey.
I took a photo of Aqsa mosque from afar, and then walked to Mount Zion where my car was waiting for the adventures of the new year.
I spent the next two hours driving in south-eastern Jerusalem, taking panoramic photos of the Kidron Valley region. These photos are available on a separate page, with a map indicating where each photo was taken.
At 9:30 I was back in the city center, where I visited a bank to refill my cash reserves. The communication lines between Finnish and Israeli banks were temporarily out of order, however, so I left the bank as empty-handed as I had gone there.
I drove to Tel Aviv, and visited the store of Survey Israel on Lincoln Street, wishing to buy a few maps. I had emailed them beforehand to check the opening times of the shop (9—13), but as I knocked the door at 12 o’clock, a security guard told me that the shop was closed due to annual inventory.
I returned to my car and drove to Shalom Tower, which was supposed to offer a roof terrace for taking panoramic photos of Tel Aviv. I went to the top floor by elevator, only to find out that the roof terrace was closed due to renovation work.
The New Year could have started a bit more brightly: the Temple Mount closed due to political tension, international bank communications out of order, map store closed for inventory, and now the panoramic platform closed for renovation...
I parked my car at the beach north of Old Yafo, and spent four and a half hours walking and taking photos in Yafo and southern Tel Aviv. The best of these photos are available in the Common Ground section of this website.
Southern Tel Aviv and Yafo seemed to be mainly inhabited by the poorer social classes. Nearly all houses south of the “skyscraper belt” were two or three storeys high, in moderate or poor condition.
I walked from Mered Street to Yehoshua ha Talmi, Amzaleg, Shlush, Gevulot, Kishon, Abulafya, Alfasi, Poriyah, and then several kilometers south along Sederot Yerushalayim (where the four next photos were taken).
A long walk later I arrived in southern Yafo, and turned west towards the Mediterranean Sea at Yefet Street. Mosques seemed to be a more common sight in this region than synagogues.
A new massive building, the Peres Peace Center, was being built at the seashore behind this mosque. There was nothing to be photographed in the foundations, but I took a photo of the pavement of the street — namely the iron cover of an underground sewer, which carried the logo of Tel Aviv-Yafo municipality. Conveniently written in one language only, not to waste ink for the languages of hostile enemy cultures.
I walked back north towards Tel Aviv along the seashore, and arrived in the port of Old Yafo just before sunset. It was slightly ironic to find out that also here the only written languages visible anywhere were the two official languages of the state — namely Hebrew and English — while the only language that I heard people speak on the quays was Arabic.
After sunset at 17 o’clock I drove back to Jerusalem. The bank communications were functional again, and I was able to fill my empty wallet with fresh new cash. I celebrated the event with a pizza slice at Sbarro restaurant.
At 20:30 I briefly visited the Jerusalem Mall, and then I retreated to the hostel to pack my luggage for the flight home early next morning.
The trip meter of the car showed 2950 km at the end of the day, of which 160 km were driven today.
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Tue 02 January 2007
I left Jerusalem before 5 o’clock, and drove to Ben Gurion airport, where I returned the car to the rental. The trip meter showed 3015 km, of which 65 km were driven this morning.
The next three hours were consumed in the usual security checks, the girls at the security desk suspiciously tasting the honey that I bought in Jericho, and all my luggage combed thoroughly with a number of electronic devices.
My first flight was to Frankfurt, where I had one hour time to change the plane to a flight leaving for Helsinki. An hour sounded a long time to me, and I felt hungry, so I went to McDonald’s at Frankfurt airport and ordered some takeaway food.
This proved to be a very bad idea, but I did not realize it before I went to the security check, and the lady went pale when she noticed how little time I had left before the flight would take off. She told me to take my hand luggage and run as fast as I can. This I also did, but the distance to the platform was surprisingly long — a kilometer or two I guess — and my hand luggage was quite heavy (possibly a bit heavier than would be officially permitted).
All other passengers were already in the plane, and the captain was about to close the gate, when I arrived running and dragging my heavy hand luggage. The captain rose his eyebrows, and commented ironically that the distance to the gate is a bit longer than many believe...
I entered the plane, and then we flew home.
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| Copyright © - "John Mittler" |
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