Today I walked from the student village (as they call it here in the lovely city of Jerusalem) to the Old City, which took about 30 minutes of hills and truly excessive sunlight considering it’s “winter” here, then around the Old City including the Western Wall and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and pretty much everywhere in between for something like three hours. Then we walked all the way back to the student village. The reason for all this walking was because it’s Saturday. Saturday is the Holy Day, which in Jerusalem, which is dominated by Orthodox Jews, means that no buses run and those who are Shomer Shabbat (those who keep the Sabbath) don’t use electronics or “do work” which includes driving cars, riding bikes, etc. So we walked. My friends, it was a day of pain. Now I can’t walk, but it was pretty freaking great.
The Western Wall was beautiful and just like I remembered. We dressed up all conservatively (girls in knee-length skirts and covered shoulders, guys in pretty much whatever. Boys get it so easy!) and mingled with the Hasidic Jews. My favorites are the Orthodox Jews from Russia, because they wear these round fur hats that I find endlessly amusing. My friend David went on a hunt for Palestinian beer or something similar, the rest of us followed like lambs because he’s the one who knows his way around. The Church was pretty cool too, very much more opulent than Jewish holy sites. Apparently it’s the place of the crucifixion and burial of Jesus, which I did not know.
There’s something truly special about the Kotel (the Hebrew name for the Wall) and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Honestly, I think it’s the only place where I actually feel like I might possibly believe in God. The air around the Wall feels sacred. The wall itself is cool and smooth and so solid, like nothing could ever move it or destroy it. I feel safe there. It’s the only place I let myself pray honestly. It feels real, and I like real.
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