One day in the Holy City

I open my eyes and am surprised. I was expecting to hear the noises of Jaffa Street – one of the main roads of Jerusalem. However, it seems like my room in the Jerusalem Hostel has well insulated walls. I open the curtains to my balcony and the first light of the day is entering my room. Only when I open the door, the noises come in, too. Cars, searching for a place to park, the tram on its way to the Old City, tourists asking for the way to the next sight. I imagined Jerusalem to be different than that. More antique. But instead it is a modern and young city with many students living here and a vivid nightlife.

I am having breakfast on the way to the Old City, because I don’t want to loose time. I can’t wait to see the Jerusalem that we all think of when hearing the word. I walk through Jaffa Gate and get goose bumps – this place is history alive.

It takes two minutes until I can hear the first person saying, in an Arabic accent: “Hello my friend, where are you from?”.  I try to get rid of the guy, because I know that it will take the whole day to see everything that I planed. He is not impressed at all and says that it’s an insult to his hospitality not to accept his invitation to drink coffee with him. Well… Ok! I wouldn’t find the way back to his shop anyways. So I promised him to be back in the afternoon at 5 PM.

I am walking through the market, taking a lot of photos and smiling to everyone. Wait, my smile! I realize that the people selling their stuff in the hundreds and thousands of shops within the market take my smile as an invitation to act like the first guy. “It’s an insult if you refuse my hospitality!”. I start walking faster and try not to look anybody in the eyes.

Finally, I am in Via Dolorosa: the street where Jesus is supposed to have walked to his crucifixion. I am making my way to the Temple Mount and to my utter surprise two armed soldiers are standing in front of the entrance: “The Temple Mount is only open for Muslims today!“, they say. I try to convince them to let me just take one photo, but no chance. It feels like I have failed. I know that I won’t be able to come back another day. So I won’t have any photo of one of the main points of interest of Jerusalem. Because of my religion. I am getting sad when I continue my way to the Wailing Wall.

On the Wall an inner peace is coming over me. In that moment, I feel the unexplainable magic that is in the air, something I don’t understand although I can clearly feel it. I am witnessing how men and women pray with their heads lowered. Silence and peace is reigning here. I almost feel shameful because I am taking photos of those scenes. In the end, I make the sign of the cross that seems right and go slowly to the exit.

My next destination is the Mount of Olives. It’s already in the early afternoon and my feet hurt. When I arrive to the church with the garden Gethsemane, I sit down first. The sun is burning. One of the gardeners sees me and brings me an olive branch. He is smiling at me and I am smiling back before he turns around and goes back to work. This peaceful place is where Jesus was betrayed? The olive grove is old, but not old enough to tell us the truth with the branches blowing in the wind. While I am turning the olive branch in my hand, I start smiling again.

After a while I go into the church and continue my trip. The last thing I want to do is go on the Mount of Olives to enjoy the view over the Old City. I arrive there sweaty and tired but the view is making up for everything. It is one of those moments when I know exactly why I chose to be a long-term traveller. The view is breathtaking. So I sit down and stay there. I don’t know how long. But when the sun is already on her way down, I decide to go back to the hostel. I don’t want to be still on my way back after sunset and I know that it will take me around an hour to get there. So I throw a last glance at the golden cupola of the Temple Mount and start descending. My way leads me through the Old City again.  It’s easier than in the morning because I master the “don’t talk to me” look now. I am coming close to the door where I entered the Old City some hours before and look on my phone: almost 5 PM.

Wait? Wasn’t there something at 5 PM? In the very same moment I hear a voice saying: “My German friend, I am so happy you are back! Let’s drink coffee!” I had totally forgotten my false promise.

“You know”, I start saying “I don’t even like coffee.”

“Then we will have tea!”

“Thank you so much but I don’t want tea now. It’s so late already. I want to go back to the hostel.”

“I can show you around then. I’m your friend and want to help you! We can go to the church over there! Did you already see it?” he asks me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

I really want to believe him that he is telling the truth that he just wants to be nice and that he doesn’t see the rich European tourist in me, who will buy his super expensive kick-knackery.

But years of travelling made me be cautious. No, I don’t want to go with him. It’s time to get rid of him:

“That’s really kind of you, but my friends from the hostel will give me a guided tour tomorrow.” I say and put my hand on his arm to calm him down. His eyes become small.

“Where is your hostel?” he wants to know. A question I know is better to answer in a vague way.

“In Jaffa street.” I say truthful but not too precise that he could come and stalk me.

“Jaffa Street? Your friends are Jews!” he spits at me in disgust “Why do all tourists have Jewish friends?” he asks in a very aggressive way and goes on without giving me the time to answer this ridiculous question “Why did you promise to have a coffee with me then?” And the truth is making its way up my throat: “Because you wouldn’t leave me in peace and I had no idea how to get rid of you!”

His eyes become smaller again and he is shaking his head – slowly. Then he turns around and leaves. I am happy that this strange conversation is over but I feel bad almost immediately. I didn’t want to hurt him, but did I have a choice? I feel the bad conscious while I walk to the gate where Jaffa Street begins. I don’t know what to think. I started loving this city almost from the very first moment. And I still do. But situations like this one are awkward.

The sun is on its way down. I will be in the Jerusalem Hostel right for sunset. I wave to the hostel manager, who smiles at me, and go upstairs to watch the sunset. The scenery is amazing. The rays of the sun are warm in my face and are illuminating the modern part of Jerusalem. The tram is passing by – sparkling in the sunlight. No, no matter what happened this is a spectacular and unique place and I feel that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

Tomorrow is my last day. At least for this time, because I will come back for sure.

Barbara Riedel is a half-german half-Italian “Digital Nomad”: Working independently, she doesn’t need anything else than her laptop & internet, preferably – at the beach. “It’s making me more creative to hear, listen and smell the sea while I’m working”. Passionate for travel, her blog “Barbaralicious“, alongside her two published books – made her just the kind of a rising new blogger & writer ILH loved to host… While in Israel, she stayed connected using a data & cellular package provided by Deal-Sim (available at ILH Hostels).