A City Lost In Time

Jerusalem has been on my top 10 of cities to visit for a long time. Not to go pray at some holy relic. I’m not religious, have never been and doubt I ever will be. Not to visit museums. I’ve never really had the patients for that. Not to go shopping. There are so many other places to do that. 

I wanted to visit Jerusalem to be in the center of history. To feel and experience the area that claims to be the birthplace of religions that ultimately shaped the modern society. To see the ancient ruins and marvel at churches and mosques built with a finesse and technic that makes me wonder if they perhaps used magic to make it all stand straight. To try to grasp, maybe just a hint, of why people still strive to this place with their beliefs and why people are still arguing over what is most holy, to whom and who has the most rights to the holiness.

I am not sure I succeeded in much more than marvel at the ruins, churches and mosques.

Old City surrounded by newer city

Old City

Before walking into the Old Town, I remembered something my mum told me from her visit to Jerusalem many years ago.

“The smell. The smell of the city is just it’s entire own. Nothing compares.” 

The first paces around town seemed pretty trivial to me. I could smell gasoline, car exhaust, dog poop, pee, someone cooking something. Not really anything special. But as we walked further and further in to the Old City the smell changed. Now, a dry smell of old dusty rocks dominated. The endless shops with scarfs, jewelry and souvenirs sent out vibrant smells of incense. Shops with dry goods oozed of exotic spices, fruit stands smelled of ripe bananas and mangos, a turning sharwama dripping with grease. On top of that the people, the atmosphere, the noises, all combined created a special smell, a feeling, of being in a living, breathing organism called Jerusalem.

Market in Old City

Stand of Spices

 

Walking around as a non-religious Scandinavian posed a lot of clothes changing. My cold Viking blood overheats at 25 deg C, so walking around in +30 deg C is not possible if not in shorts and sleeveless top. My instinct tells me to get as much sun and vitamin D as possible so covering up is not second nature. However, going in churches, to the Wailing Wall and other holy places requires you to cover as a minimum knees and shoulders. My solution was a knee long flowy skirt that does a wonderful “Marilyn Monroe” imitation at every gust of wind and a Jordanian scarf tossed casually over the shoulders. So ready for the holy places!

Being so close to so many so religious people was very bizarre for me. To have people mumbling to themselves, rocking back and forth, crying over tombs of long lost Saints, put belongings on graves and in vaults to have them get blessed, falling to the knees before and alter, stop the business for 10 min while praying on a carpet, sticking secret notes to God in cracks. To me, so odd and bizarre behavior. To believe in stories and histories so old, and in places built centuries ago for who knows what purpose. To have so blind faith in old scripts, old ways and the one and only God dictating everything is just so far away from my own reality. In some weird way, it’s almost beautiful. But mostly I find it very, very stupid. But maybe I am not that different. My truth and my belief just lie in facts and science. In what I can see, touch, smell and feel. My holy scripts are the papers of scientific discoveries, my Saints are the animals, plants and humans in this world, and my church is the wilderness of nature and the depth of the sea. How you practice your truth and beliefs in this world is what it in the end comes down to.

Monastery

Church of the Holy Sepulchre

I could have spent more time exploring the crooked and cracked streets of Old City and visiting more holy places and admired the ability of ancient architects. This first little peak into history has for now satisfied me with the knowledge that Jerusalem is something else. In this hot and arid part of the world it exists in its own little isolated bobble in time and space.

Al-Aqsa Mosque

The Western Wall - Divided in a women and men section