O Little Town of Bethlehem

One of the best parts about coming on study abroad here, and not just on one of those two-week tours that retired people do, is that we get to go to places all over the country, instead of bobbing around the crowded streets of Jerusalem the whole time with matching yellow hats and a tour guide. Not that there isn't enough to see in Jerusalem to occupy a whole two weeks, or a whole four months really. Because there is. But it's nice to not miss other equally cool places that take a bit of getting to simply because there's no time to get there.

Monday's field trip was one of those equally cool places: Bethlehem, a suburb of Jerusalem that's so close the two are practically one. Our professors keep equating it to the difference between Orem and Provo; you don't even notice when you go from one city to the other because they're that connected. There is one itty-bitty, little-tiny, or-actually-really-glaring difference between Utah towns and the Holy Land, however: Bethlehem and Jerusalem are separated by a wall. I'd say it's pretty hard to miss the difference with an 8-meter-high barrier and detachment of Israeli guards in the way.

Bethlehem is located in the West Bank, the part of Israel that was occupied in the 1967 war, and has never been unoccupied since. I think Israel considers it part of their State, but according to international laws, the Israelis don't rightfully own it since it was occupied in war. So the Palestinians are stuck there under military occupation until further notice. The whole situation is very sticky, and there are lots of restrictions because of it. Much of the conflict in this country, if it isn't happening in the Gaza Strip, is somehow connected to the West Bank. It's rather unfortunate, because the West Bank is a really cool place.

We generally aren't allowed to go to the West Bank because of all the conflict, but we do have a couple special field trips there, and this was one of them. Our Palestinian professor lives in Bethlehem and teaches at Bethlehem University, so we had the opportunity to visit and learn about life as a college student in Bethlehem. And of course visit some of the holiest Christian sites in the world. Pretty typical day in the life of a JC student. And here are some pictures of our trip:


Here we have the crest of Bethlehem University. The University is Catholic, but the student body is 70% Muslim. It's also 70% female, and one of the few universities in the West Bank. Despite the religious differences, the atmosphere on campus is extremely friendly. I loved the feeling that we're really just like them (nevermind that they live in one of the most conflicted areas of the world, and we live in perhaps one of the most boring); we're all students trying to get an education. And of course, trying to find that special someone. As one student said, it's a tragedy there's no inter-religion dating!


At one point in the visit, we were able to mix-and-mingle with the students. I had a mini heart attack when I heard this; as you probably know, I'm not a mingler. But, I decided that since it would likely be my once-in-a-lifetime chance to be in Bethlehem, let alone at Bethlehem U, I could come out of my shell (see Mom, it does happen) and meet a few people. And if it went badly, I'd never have to see them again! These are the people I ended up meeting: Zuhoor and Sister Lena.

Zuhoor is a Muslim in her second year studying to teach primary school. She's from Jerusalem, and commutes to and from Bethlehem every day, which is quite the process. In the days before the wall, it took fifteen minutes to get from one to the other. Now, an hour is a good commute. Sister Lena is a Catholic nun from Jordan, and is in Bethlehem studying English (we became fast friends). She works at a convent in her free time. Both women were very nice, and willing to talk to curious Americans. And the funniest thing about them? When we walked up, they were talking to each other. As friends. Proof that we really all can get along.


While I was busy mingling in my own way, the boys in our group were mingling in theirs. To each their own I guess!


It's a little hard to see in this picture, but this a building somewhere in Bethlehem that's decorated with metal stars. The entire city was like this (well all of it that we saw anyway). There were stars hanging across the streets, stars on the buildings, outlines of Christmas bells in windows. It was like everyone decorated for Christmas year-round. How great would that be? You'd never have to take down your Christmas lights! Though I guess if you never put them up in the first place, that alleviates the problem too.


The Church of the Nativity. Lucky for us, they started construction on the ceiling two weeks before our field trip. So this was the church we saw. Not too pretty, I know. Though I'm not convinced the church would be pretty even without all the scaffolding. Everything is so blackened with incense that it's difficult to make anything out. In all fairness, the Church of the Nativity is the oldest Christian church that's been in continuous use since it was built. So it does have some excuse. Originally built in 333 AD by Emperor Constantine, it was destroyed in 529 AD and rebuilt by Emperor Justinian in 565 AD. And it's been standing ever since. Predictably, it's had a few close destruction calls, and been restored a few times over the years (like the current time), but never has it been destroyed. Crazy, huh? Oh and all those people? They're waiting in line to see the Grotto of the Nativity, the traditional site of Christ's birth. Where are we in that line? Yep, all the way at the back. Two-hours wait from the front, to be exact.


Here I am with the star that marks the place of Christ's birth. How they know he was born on exactly that piece of floor is a mystery to me, but that's what they say! Apparently the star was actually really disgusting; another student touched it and used half a bottle of hand sanitizer afterward. And I'm not sure what was going on with the lighting here, but it was so crowded in the little cave that I didn't have the chance to get another picture taken. Such is life when other people run your camera.


This is the rest of the Grotto. I wish they'd left it how it really looked in Christ's time, but it's an example, once again, of how different churches commemorate holy sites. This particular site is commemorated with frescoes and incense burners.

There you have a pictorial tour through my Bethlehem experience. It's a shame we're not allowed to visit Bethlehem on our own, because it's definitely a place I'd love to return to. And it doesn't help that all our professors brag about the time when the wall wasn't there, and they popped over to Bethlehem for lunch every other week. Aren't they special? At least I got to go once in my life though, right? I suppose I should be grateful for that.

Jersualem At Its Finest

I realize I haven't blogged in a very long time, but I wanted to wait until I was able to upload pictures, and I'm finally able to do so! Pictures make blogging so much better because I don't have to write as much and readers actually go through the whole post instead of getting bored by the first paragraph. At least that's what happens when I stalk others' blogs; I get super excited when I see a post full of pictures. So here goes:


Jerusalem is the land of hills and valleys. The Center is built on the top of Mt. Scopus, which is part of the Mt. of Olives. In order to go pretty much anywhere, we have to go down a very large hill into the Kidron valley, then up a very large hill into the city. Which means that on the way back home, we go down the hill we came up and up the hill we came down. Going into the city is not for the faint-hearted. And as proof, here is the hill right outside the lower gate of the Center.



I love the contrast of this picture. The wall in the lower right corner is the Western Wall, an original retaining wall of the temple during Jesus' time, and one of the holiest places for the Jewish people. Rising just above that is the Dome of the Rock, one of the holiest sites in Islam. Just a reminder of how people learn to coexist.



The Dome of the Rock, up close and personal.



Jerusalem is full of holy sites (surprising, I know), and here is one of the holiest for Christians, especially for Protestants: the Garden Tomb. There's something special about this place.



Wouldn't it be great if we could buy one of these for life?



I can't get enough of the colors here. Or the flowers. I probably have at least fifty pictures of flowers from Jerusalem. It just amazes me that such beautiful flowers can bloom in a place where it doesn't rain for seven months of the year. And they contrast so beautifully with the light limestone that most of the city is built of. I wish I could always be in such a beautiful place.



I'm obsessed with finding the Center whenever I can in the city. Here we have the Dome of the Rock with the Center to the left of it (that building with all the arches), and the picture was taken from the top of the Hurva synagogue in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City. How awesome is it that Mormon University is visible from all over Jerusalem?



I also just can't get enough of the doors here. It's hard to refrain from photographing every one I walk by, but I try to keep it to only the most awesome. Like this door we stumbled upon when we were lost somewhere in the city (it's hard to keep track of where we get lost these days).



I was not a fan of going through Hezekiah's Tunnel, a water-filled, very narrow channel built in BC times. And then I went through it, and it was actually pretty cool. Here's the aftermath of the water on my pants.



This is a taste of Jerusalem's night life! Ben Yehuda, the place to be when the sun goes down. Well, really, it's the only place we can be when the sun goes down, so it's the best place.



The other day, we stumbled upon St. George's Cathedral in the middle of East Jerusalem. It's a church for Palestinian Christians, and it's message seemed to be about peace between all. Along the back wall, I found this little thing hanging. I think it's a lesson that more than just Palestinians and Israelis need to learn.

There you have it: Jerusalem at its finest. Well, maybe not its finest, but what I like most.

Sabbath in Jerusalem

There are several things here that take a fair amount of getting used to. Like the smells of a city without laws against littering. Or the protein-filled, curry-infused, unfortunately-mushroom-laced food at the Center that still causes problems with many students' bowels. (Luckily not mine, or else I wouldn't have mentioned it.)

One of the hardest things for me to get used to is the idea of having Sabbath services on Saturday. In Israel, Saturday is considered the holy day because that's when Jews have their Sabbath, and Israel is rather filled with Jewish people. So, out of respect for the Jewish tradition, and to accommodate the schedule of Center activities and the schedules of the permanent Branch members, we have Sabbath meetings on Saturday. It makes how we phrase things a little tricky; we don't have "Sunday School" here, and it's never "during our meetings next Sunday." People are still getting used to the idea of replacing "Sunday" with "Sabbath," and it's just as funny now as it was a month ago when the second counselor in the Presidency accidentally slips up while making announcements in Sacrament Meeting. You'd think we were all seven again, the way we giggle at the occasional mention of Sunday.

But even though our meetings aren't held on the normal day, they're just as phenomenal as any other ward or branch. In fact, sometimes I think they're even more amazing. When we sit in Sacrament meeting, listening to talks about the Atonement, we can actually see the city of Jerusalem stretched out below us, and actually visualize the words of the speaker happening just down the road. How cool is that?! Plus the amazing view makes it easier to stay awake (in my opinion), so I tend to get more out of Sacrament meeting all around. Definitely a win-win.

Besides the amazing view, the amazing people of the branch are what make it so wonderful. We have families from America, who are here for a few years because of the father's job. We have single people just passing through, or attending Hebrew University down the road. And we have locals, who have converted to our faith. The Relief Society president is a Palestinian living in Bethlehem, just down the street from the Church of the Nativity, the traditional site of Christ's birth. Unfortunately, there are a fair number of locals who cannot actually attend because of the travel restrictions in their various areas, so receive their meetings through weekly emails. It's been an eye-opener, and I'll try very hard from now on to never complain about going to Church again, because at least I can actually go.

When I first arrived here, I was astonished by how evident it is that both Jews and Muslims live their religion, or at least their standards of clothing. But now that I've gotten to see what's below the surface, I realize that the faith of the Jerusalem saints is just as, if not more, astonishing.

Unexpected Egypt

I've never had the desire to go to Egypt.

Really I've never had the desire to go to the Middle East in general; anywhere European has always made the top of my list. But I've really really never had the desire to go to Egypt. Yet here I sit in Jerusalem after returning from a week in Egypt. And it was awesome.

Yes, there were a few experiences I could have done without. Like the overnight train ride in a smelly compartment that still felt dirty after we neurotically sanitized every surface. Or the "shower" I took under a trickle of Nile water in a shower spotted with what was very probably brown mold. Or the fly-infested, wet-floored, toilet-paper-less bathroom with unflushable toilets. I could have lived a very happy life without having any one of those stories to recount, and the fact that they're all true makes me cringe a little inside. (It also makes me slightly impressed that I made it through them without vomiting, though I can't pretend that I never gagged, or that I only gagged a little.)

Disgusting experiences aside, Egypt was a phenomenal place. We toured sites that I never expected to see in my life - like the Great Pyramids of Giza. We rode camels through a village along the banks of the Nile. We haggled in the marketplace for souvenirs, and in some cases got swindled by very pushy merchants. I never expected to have so much fun in Egypt.

What made the biggest impact on me even more than the amazing ancient sites - and they were amazing - was the extreme difference in culture. Our professors weren't joking when they told us that Egypt is a desert, and the people only survive because of the Nile. The Nile serves as their source of water for everything - drinking, cleaning, farming, watering animals. It also serves as their sewage system. I thought some of the streets of Jerusalem were dirty. And then I took my first shower in Egypt with water that smelled very faintly like a rusty public toilet. It was as unsanitary as I thought possible.

Yet to the people of Egypt, it's absolutely not a problem. They drink the Nile's water (which we were expressly forbidden to do with the threat of severe gastrointestinal distress as the consequence). They wash their clothes in it, make their living off it, and I even saw a few brave souls swimming in it. It's no more a big deal to them than drinking from the tap in America would be to me. I don't think it's possible to be a germophobe in Egypt.

I also couldn't believe the extreme heat. Most days it felt like I walked into an oven when I stepped out the hotel doors, and I can't say that I've ever sweated more in my life than I did in one morning's worth of touring. Getting back to my air conditioned hotel room was a necessity every day, and everyone complained heartily if the air on the bus wasn't up to par.

But once again, to the people of Egypt, the heat is not a problem. They live in it and work in it, and I'm not convinced that the vast majority has access to working air conditioning. I have no idea how they do it, especially given the amount of clothing they wear. We saw very few Egyptian women, but almost all those we did wore traditional Muslim attire, complete with long sleeves and headdress. And many of the men wore a long sleeve robe with clothes underneath. It's very impressive to observe how they live their religion regardless of their surroundings (like the 100+ degree temperatures typical of the region), but I've decided it's a very good thing I was not born Egyptian. I think I would sweat my body away.

Overall, Egypt made for a great trip. One that I'm not willing to repeat in a hurry, but that was worthwhile while it lasted.

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.

Pushiness

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Whenever I take those theoretically scientific personality tests, they always tell me that I'm an introverted person. Which I completely agree with. I much prefer my comfort zone, and breaking out of my shell makes me irrationally nervous.

This introversion also causes me, more often than not, to keep my feelings quiet. If I'm ever in a big group of people, I prefer to listen to the conversation rather than actively participate in it. And if someone upsets me, the last thing I'd do would be to tell them. My hobbies include reading and movie watching, and I often choose to go shopping alone. It's not that I hate being social, it's just that only enjoy being social for so long before I need alone time.

Sometimes, my odd hermit tendencies can be detrimental to my relationships, and it's times like these when I need a little push to get me to speak up or go out or whatever the situation requires. I don't always enjoy these pushes, but I almost always find that I'm glad for them in the end. Like when my mom pushed me to go play tennis with friends even though I'm an abysmal tennis player. Or when Skyler pushed me to actually share my feelings instead of 'thinking about them' first. I almost think I could be an extrovert if people would just push me to be. Though I'm perfectly happy with my introverted self. And I'm grateful for those little pushes that keep me from becoming a true hermit.

Hot (Skype) Dates

Friday, August 6, 2010

Long distance relationships get really old really fast. Though, to be fair, a long distance relationship is better than no relationship, at least with the current guy. And Skyler and I do almost everything possible to stay in touch: text, talk on the phone, facebook, the occasional email, and skype. About the only communication mode we haven't broken into is letter writing, but that might happen while I'm in Jerusalem. Well, at least maybe postcard writing.

Tonight, we had a skype date. I say 'date,' but really we'd just decided to skype tonight, so I'm not entirely sure it classifies as a date, especially when it was interrupted by my dad and his brother and brother's girlfriend. Regardless, it was quite fun.

I think skype is little short of amazing. I find it so incredible that live video feed is able to be sent over the internet. Though almost anything regarding the internet baffles me; that we can send data at all is something I consider to be a modern miracle. While the picture quality of the webcam might not always be top-notch, I really have nothing to complain about when it comes to video chatting. Personally, I'm so grateful for it that I'd like to shake the hand of whoever invented it, because somehow, hot skype dates seems to make five weeks a little more bearable.

Hershey*

Thursday, August 5, 2010

I swear if my dog wakes me up at 6:30 in the morning one more time by barking at non-existent squirrels, I will put her up for sale faster than you can say 'woof!' If you ever wondered why my dog and I do not get along, here you have perfect proof. I've surprised myself by not locking her out of the house yet.

However, as much as Hershey drives me up the wall, there are a few (a very few) qualities that I at least find amusing about her. The first being that I'm pretty sure she dreams. I actually really wish I could know what she dreams about (if, in fact, dogs can dream), because she gets awfully funny when she's deeply asleep. Her eyes come half open and start rolling (which is actually really creepy, not funny), her tongue sticks out, her nose twitches, and sometimes her paws even start to move. Like she's having a dream about chasing down a rabbit or attacking the neighbor dog or something equally dog-worthy. If there's anything about Hershey that I enjoy, it's watching her dream.

The other point in her favor is that she can be very cute when she decides to cuddle. However, letting her cuddle with you is always a gamble, because she can also be very annoying. If she's just taking a little cat nap next to me, I don't mind it so much. She doesn't move, she isn't barking, and she doesn't take up much space. But, if she snuggles up for a good long sleep, I know I'm in trouble, because those are the times when she sprawls out and takes up all the available space. You wouldn't believe it, but my little eleven-pound dog has actually squeezed me off the couch before because she spreads out so much when she sleeps. I don't know how my parents stand to sleep with her every night.

I'm not entirely sure why I decided to write a post about my dog tonight, because I'm still a little bitter about her untimely wake-up call. But I suppose she deserves some recognition for being, well, the family dog. And I am semi-trying to make our relationship more based on love than on hate, mostly by bribing her with treats and occasionally letting her sleep on my recliner. I suppose writing a post about how grateful I am for her (*in very specific circumstances) was inevitable.


The face that isn't always as cute as it seems (though sometimes it is).