I’ve been in Israel for two days now. We landed at Ben Gurion Airport, and that was where I experienced my first glimpse of culture shock. There was a lot of order, people talking quiety, far fewer guardsmen with guns than in Egypt. We then came to our hotel and had a buffet style lunch. Much of the food was the same; we are in the Middle East, after all. Hummus, white cheese, tomatoes and cucumbers, in addition to other foods which Iam not certain are representative of Israeli culture. After a couple hours of a break in the afternoon (where I scoped out the pool and was not pleased to find it full of local kids and teenagers in bikinis—another point of culture shock). Then an orientation meeting and dinner with folks from the US Embassy and local universities. There was a speaker whose message I had difficulty discerning (he referred to a lot of Jewish history and ancient history—both areas where my background knowledge is lacking—other colleagues said they liked him).
Yesterday was what felt like my real initiation to Israel. We went to Ben Ilan University first, where we toured the library and handled old texts, including an autographed copy of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass (which I began reading greedily after a three week hiatus from any poetry). We also visited a brain research center, a massive complex where specialists from many fields research collaboratively to understand the brain—there is NIH funding involved in the project.
After another discussion related to the 9th of Av, which began last night and is being celebrated today (it’s a historic memory holiday commemorating several tragic events the Jews have lived through, including the destructions of the Temple), we went to the Old City of Jerusalem.
I had hoped to have feelings that lent themselves to contemplating the places Jesus had visited. Our guide tried to point many of those places out. Unfortunately, when we went to the Last Supper room, several of the Catholics in our group were figuring out if that was really the place it was supposed to be. After our visit, our Lonely Planet guidebooks said it wasn’t and we had missed it. Our guide had explained that he typically deals with Israeli tourists, and I doubt they’re as interested in the sites Jesus went to. The city is old and contains traces of ancient history as well as rebuilt areas from 20th century conflicts.
We went to the Church of the Assumption, and I was glad to be in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament for a few moments. Several of us lit candles and sat contemplatively. It’s a beautiful 20th century structure with a crypt room commemorating what is supposed to be the location where Mary was assumed to Heaven. We later went to the Mount of Olives, ate a picnic style meal, and made our way down to Gethsemane. From there we went to the Western Wall, where observant Jews were preparing to pray throughout the night in observance of the 9th of Av. We were separated by genders and approached the wall, several of us putting prayers into the cracks where we could find spaces. We stood facing the wall, absorbing the chants of the men to our left and the quieter, more singular prayers of the women before us.
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