My First Jerusalem Experience

Since I am apparently abysmal at sticking to a once-a-day blog, I decided to transform this little experiment of mine into something different: a blog of my experiences in Jerusalem (and elsewhere). Don't expect anything close to daily. I'd rather be out seeing and doing than sitting at a computer writing about it.

I am privileged enough to be studying abroad in the Holy Land for the next three and half months, and the experience has already been beyond incredible. I have been here only since Wednesday, but it feels like weeks have gone by. Maybe once the program actually gets going, I'll stop feeling like time is standing still.

Today my roommates and I took a walk through the Old City. Jerusalem is divided into three main parts: East Jerusalem, West Jerusalem, and the Old City. East is where the Palestinians live, and where the BYU Jerusalem Center is located. West is where the Jewish people live. And the Old City . . . well I'm still not entirely sure what that is. The Dome of the Rock can be found in the Old City, and the Western Wall. And it's divided into four quarters: Muslim, Jewish, Christian, and Armenian (where the Armenians came into the picture, I have no idea). The Old City can be dangerous at times, and we have several restrictions on when we can visit it. But today we had free time and no restrictions, so we decided to have our first experience.

What an experience it was! We went through Damascus Gate, which leads to a street full of open-air shops that sell everything from underwear to hunks of raw meat. We've been told more than once that many people have things stolen from them at Damascus Gate because the pickpockets are so good at what they do, so we all clutched our purses while trying not to act like typical tourists.

Once we made it through the gate, we were met by a cart that almost ran us over, and hundreds of people pushing us everywhere. The market was absolutely insane, and something that you would never find in America. Let me give you an example. There was a man, sitting on a piece of cardboard that was covering what looked like the skinned carcass of a cow. There is no way that can be sanitary. And yet, it was perfectly acceptable here. No one thought twice about the raw meat festering in the hot and crowded market, a stark contrast to the neat and hygienic grocery stores of the United States.

Everything here seems to be that way - something I would never see in my sheltered life in America. And I thought I knew what it meant to be cultural. This trip has already taught me that I have so much more to learn.