An unbeliever in the Holy Land

Jerusalem. The countless shrines where the Jesus myth has been given credence and embellished over the last 1600 years. I am following in the footsteps of the first pilgrims, the crusaders and now bus loads of Japanese. I didn't get time to brush up on my Old Testament before I left so I'm having to reread the stories and Jewish history as I go. Fortunately the New Testament is easy—actually I'm shocked at how Christianity and the Jesus story completely dominates everything here, including much of the Palestinian territories where they literally earn their living from Christian tourists.

I've knelt and touched the rock where Jesus was supposed to have been nailed to the cross (and smelled old lady perfume), and where he was laid out after he was taken down from the cross, anointed and finally entombed under what is now the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where grumpy Orthodox priests continually scold the pious, "Finish!" "Come out!" "Lady finish, now!" who merely wish to say another Hail Mary or bless one more crucifix for a family member who couldn't make it to Jerusalem. Yesterday in Bethlehem I crawled down into a little rocky cavern below the Church of the Nativity, all tarted up in Greek Orthodox decor (so tacky) where, supposedly, he was born; I've been to Mary's spring, and to Nazareth to the Church of the Annunciation and the church built over where John the baptist was born; I've walked around David's city, which is not David's city at all but a Crusader stronghold, and David's Tower is in fact an Ottoman minaret, but no matter. I journeyed from the Mount of Olives down the path where Jesus supposedly entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday—in a Mercedes, is that wrong?—then walked through the Garden of Gethsemane amongst 500 yr-old olive trees, and into the Church of the Agony, and seen the (rebuilt) synagogue where He overturned the tables of the money changers. I've witnessed the prayers at the Wailing Wall and been welcomed into the inner prayer hall (men only) next to the wall to observe the ultra religious intoning their prayers.

Some of these places are truly gorgeous, and it's wonderful just to experience the layers and layers of history and to walk on these old stones. Everyone in the Jewish and Arab quarters are all so friendly and welcoming. Frankly, I was anticipating a lot more tension in the air, but people are going about their business quite happily. I have had to pass through Israeli security checkpoints about 6 times as we drive back into Israel from the Palestinian Territories, so I've learned about the significance of zones A, B and C, and seen countless miles of the ugly concrete wall the Israelis have erected to separate the two peoples.

The only truly emotional experience I've had was at the Holocaust Museum–unforgettable, and so beautifully done—the architecture, the gardens. The memorial to the murdered children is particularly moving. Really an immersive work of art in a separate building where you walk down into complete darkness where an eternal flame is reflected infinitely in mirrors on the walls, ceilings and floor, while the names, ages and nationalities of one and half million children are intoned in Hebrew and English.

I have a perfect guide in Sa'id. He's Palestinian, 60ish and a natural teacher. He's also the president of the Arabic Tour Guide Association, very serious and seems to know everything Biblical, Koranic, Jewish, Islamic, Roman, Ottoman, Christian and military history to boot. And now freely expresses his opinions on politics, after he figured out I was a Palestinian sympathizer. Of course he's very critical of Arab politics too, the Syrians, the Jordanians and most of all the Saudis—"Idiots! Sheep stealers! And not even fit to mind the sheep they steal!" He freely says the Palestinians live the best lives of all the Arabs and tells me proudly how educated they are, "more degrees than anyone else in the Middle East, including Israelis—even youths can discuss politics and are well informed about Israeli, Middle East and world politics". He asks my opinion of American politics, and his take on Israeli politics is informative as well, how the right wing here basically prevents peace, as then Israel would splinter and devolve into a hundred factions. Better to unite and fight a common enemy. He also tells me about the growing power Russian immigrants—very right wing and all big Netanyahu supporters. Also the anger and frustration most Israelis feel about the Ultra Orthodox, where 60% of their men don't work or contribute but draw unemployment benefits so they can study the Torah. All fascinating, and of course I'm lapping it up.

The exhibit of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Israel Museum was enlightening. Fragments of the scrolls as well as the Aleppo codex and many objects of daily use on display from the caves, all housed in a brilliantly conceived building, its centerpiece in the shape of a large ancient jar lid. Today we drove out to Qumram where the scrolls were discovered by a Beduoin looking for a lost goat, to the shore of the Dead Sea where I duly floated on top of the water as though my body was filled with helium—so strange and wonderful. We visited Masada, Herod the Great's spectacular ruined fort and palace high on a cliff above the Dead Sea where the Jewish zealots held out against the Roman siege, then in 70AD when the Romans breached the walls committed suicide rather than submit to slavery. That's the story anyway, and the Israelis consecrate it by bringing all their Special Forces trainees up there at dawn at the end of their training, to drive that piece of propaganda home.

Yesterday was Shabat. It felt like Levin on a Sunday night in 1968! There's nothing so dreary to me as a town with all it's shops and businesses shuttered. For 24 hours, I resorted to using the stairs in the hotel, walking up and down the 5 flights, because religious Jews must cease all labor on the sabbath, and labor, apparently includes the mere pressing of an elevator button, so the hotel elevator goes continuously up and down stopping at every floor for 20 seconds. I realized quickly it was faster to walk than submit to these delays. Please enlighten me as to how walking into or out of an elevator is any less work than merely pressing a an elevator button, or opening a door? Since I bristle at religious restrictions, I don't understand why a whole country submits to this. Living an observant life in 2012 must be full of contradictions for most city dwellers. Gratifyingly, I saw hundreds of the unreligious out partying in the streets last night defying the Sabbath.