Jerusalem Redux

I don't think there are any rules in the blogosphere that say you're not allowed to post old pictures and revisit old experiences. This week is the second anniversary of my trip to Palestine and Israel, and I am remembering that time. So I thought I'd post a few images that I haven't already shared with you on our photo site or in my voluminous, typo-ridden correspondence from Jerusalem.

Two years on, I read those emails and see how full of anger and sadness that they were. Although I think that I appreciated the beauty and the history of the Holy Land when I was there, and met kind and generous people on both sides of the conflict, the ugliness and brutality of the Occupation pervaded my immediate impressions. (This happens when young boys spit at you and young soldiers try to run you off the road.)

Those impressions and memories, and the understanding of injustice that I gained there, will never leave me. But neither will the many beautiful things I saw and experienced.

Our first meal: fresh grilled lamb, tangy labneh (yogurt cheese) spiced with the warmth of olive oil and za'tar (wild thyme, sumac, and sesame seed), tabbouleh and grilled eggplant.


All the food was fresh, including the rabbits killed and cooked for me by Abu Azzam's nameless wife and daughter in Jayyous just a hour or so after we met. Food was generously shared, and what wasn't eaten was offered up in thanksgiving -- leftover bread was placed on lintels and doorsteps everywhere:


Persistent shrubs grow through the walls of the old city -- life in the middle of stone.


More shrubbery --or is it a nest?-- atop a minaret.


This fragrant flower grows everywhere in red, white or blue. It's called the crazy one.


Light shifts through a window in the Tower of David:


Holy, historic places. The Dome of the Rock/Temple Mount, with the Garden of Gethsemene in the background.


Graceful arches and date palms in the courtyard of the Dome of the Rock.

The courtyard of the Greek Orthodox Church within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. A gaggle of shy little girls followed me around the chapel and scurried away giggling when I returned their smiles and waves.


Busy, colourful markets.


Olive groves, just outside the walls of the Old City.


Sunlit passageways in an old, old city:


The ancient ruins of the Kidron Valley, between the Mount of Olives and the walls of the Old City.


Some boys and their goat, which ske-daddled away into the crowded market when the the boys ran over to see the pciture I had taken.


Rainwater gathered on a rooftop garden.


And little orange guys, all over the Old City: