Jesus in Sandals
The Holy Land – these words conjure up the images of Jesus in sandals, deserts, miracles, and a bygone era.
I do believe that there is a deep-seated desire in any Christian to want to visit the lands which Jesus trod on and lived in. I was no different, even if I am not what you’d describe as the terribly “holy” sort.
I was not too keen on a pure pilgrimage involving hourly prayer and daily masses as I wanted to see other historical sites in the area like Petra and the Masada. So when the opportunity presented itself – a local tour company was running a tour to Jordan and Israel – we signed up.
Jordan and the red soil of Petra
Jordan is a rather poor country, struggling with its dusty streets and scruffy-looking children. However, King Abdullah is valiantly trying to improve his country’s lot, and is placing priority on education for the young. That is an admirable goal, and a good place to start. Indeed, the children whom I saw in the fields (tending to the animals) and villages (just sitting around or playing) seemed a cheerful lot, always enthusiastically waving to us as we passed in our tour bus.
Upon arrival in Amman, we headed for Petra. I had wanted to visit Petra ever since I saw the famous façade of its Treasury in the final scenes of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Petra is a city carved out of rock, by a people known as the Nabateans. It is not known what became of 
them, as they seemed to disappear from the historical record after a brief mention in some documents following a Roman conquest. It thus became fabled as a Lost City, until it was re-discovered by a Swiss explorer in the 1800s.
Indeed, one would never guess it was there – it is hidden at the
end of a long winding path down a valley, called the Siq. Along the Siq were carvings on the walls, all of which suggested a more glorious past.
After innumerable twists and turns, the red rock of Petra suddenly parted to reveal the unmistakable façade of the Treasury, or El Khazneh. It is truly a magnificent sight, and it’s 
unimaginable how ancient craftsmen could create such a monstrous structure with only basic tools. The Treasury is named thus as it is believed to contain some unknown treasure. The whole complex does seem like an archeologist’s fantasy.
It could take probably a week to completely explore the city of Petra, but we only had a morning. After clambering around some of the structures and getting the fine red dust all over our shoes, we had to leave. So out of Jordan we went, and into Israel.
Israel
Israel, with its historical baggage and security issues, was a whole other story. We entered at the Jordan River Border Crossing, and took a couple of hours just to clear immigration. We were met by young but none-too-cheery immigration officers, who looked like they were 18, possibly doing this as national service, and not to happy in their jobs. Worse was the fact that many of us asked them not to stamp our passports as an Israeli stamp in one’s passport this would purportedly prevent us from being allowed entry into Malaysia henceforth. I think that would make me moody too, if I were Israeli – why visit my country when you don’t want evidence of it? Anyway, since my passport was expiring soon, I let them stamp it.
The moment we crossed the border, Israel’s greater wealth and development was immediately perceptible, which probably contributes to the resentment felt by the Arabs against the Jews.
Galilee
Our first stop was at a kibbutz by the Sea of Galilee, the famed lake where Peter plied his trade as a fisherman and on the shores of which Jesus recruited his first disciples. It was a huge, calm-looking lake, and I wondered how the winds could whip up such a squall which scared the disciples so much and which Jesus had to command to be still.
The next morning, we visited the Mount of the Beatitudes, where it is believed Jesus gave his 
Sermon on the Mount, as the geographical feature of the location is amphitheatre-like, lending itself to the making of a famous speech (or sermon). It was here that I had my first “moment” of the trip – when we stepped out of the bus and I set eyes on the church which has been built there, my heart leapt and I felt inexplicable joy. Was it because this was truly ground that Jesus once trod on? I don’t know. After saying a prayer in the church, we left for Safed, the town from which Kabbalah mysticism originated.
Kabbalah is now in vogue due to celebrity adherents such as Madonna, but Safed remains quite serious and is still full of seriously orthodox-looking Jews. Some even wear a little box on their heads, in which is an extract of the Torah. I do think it takes courage to walk around looking “unusual”, like that, but then orthodox Jews have always stood out in a crowd.
We then returned to Galilee for lunch, where we ate “St Peter’s fish” (it was literally “fish and chips”), and took a ride on a boat in the Sea of Galilee. Our Israeli guide said that non-Christians would take the boat, while the Christians had to walk on the water. Only the Christians laughed. Biblical joke.
Tabgha and Capernaum
We also stopped by Tabgha, famous for its mosaic of the “five 
loaves and two fishes”, and at Capernaum, where Peter the disciple lived and where Jesus taught. The city now has the remains of a fishing village and the ruins of a synagogue. Did Jesus step on those very surfaces which I was treading on?
Cana & Nazareth
That evening, we headed to Nazareth, the place where Jesus grew up. A huge church has been built over the place which it is said his mother Mary lived and where the angel Gabriel appeared to her. Just down the hill, perhaps a 30-minute walk away, is Cana, where Jesus performed his first miracle, turning water into wine at the wedding. It is speculated that it would have been his cousin’s or relative’s wedding, and the cities are in such proximity that I could certainly imagine him just walking down the hill to attend it!
Coastal Cities
The next day, we visited a number of cities lying on the coast, by the Mediterranean. First was 
Acre, an old Crusader town. Second was Haifa, which is now home to the famous Baha’i shrine (left). After a lunch of yummy kebabs, we went to Caesarea, which had been built by King Herod and boasts an acqueduct,
an impressive amphitheatre, a Roman theatre (right), and a palace overlooking the sea (below). Much of the palace which jutted out into the sea has been “reclaimed” by the waters, but the amphitheatre is still intact, and I tried running in it, to see what an Olympian or charioteer might have felt like. We stopped at Tel Aviv for the night, and enjoyed a walk in its street market, where we bought the sweetest red peppers and deadliest desserts. We had a whistle-stop in Jaffa the next morning, famous for the oranges. It was our last coastal town. We were heading for the place we came to see – The Holy City of Jerusalem.
The Mount of Olives
Before entering Jerusalem, we stopped at the Mount of Olives, for a view of the city. With the golden Dome of the Rock glinting in the sun, the city was a magnificent sight. The winds whipped us numb, though, and we clambered back into the bus quickly.
We then visited Gethsamane, where Jesus prayed after The Last Supper and was arrested. Across the valley from Gethsamane was Jerusalem, and a house of David, in which it is believed Jesus
might have had The Last Supper. It was fascinating to see how all these locations were in close proximity to each other – it certainly brought the Bible to life, seeing how Jesus could have walked across the valley to Gethsemane after his last supper, then be brought back by the Roman soldiers to Jerusalem after his arrest.
O Jerusalem
We then visited the Wailing Wall, which is all that’s left of the original Temple of Solomon (model on right). The Temple was destroyed by
Nebuchadnezzar, rebuilt by Babylonian exiles, then burnt down by Titus. What now stands on the Temple Mount, over the ruins of the Temple, is the golden Dome of the Rock, erected by Muslims. It is of course a highly-desired piece of real estate and coveted by the Muslims and Jews alike. The Jews re-took this territory after the Six Day War, but then allowed it to be placed under Muslim administration. No doubt, Jews would dearly love to see their Temple re-built over this site, but tearing down the Dome or even moving it away would surely spark World War III. I asked our Israeli guide whether it pained him to see the most holy Jewish site being occupied by a Muslim structure. He said, “Of course, but what can you do? We are now regarded as the stronger power and since we are stronger, we must yield and protect the site for the occupied peoples now.”
Jerusalem, a holy city claimed by three major world religions. It is a cauldron containing a brew waiting to bubble over. There seemed to be was a rather strong police and military presence in Israel-occupied Jerusalem, and I felt rather safe there. Thus, it was with trepidation that I embarked on the next part of the trip: an excursion into the West Bank – into Palestine, to see Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus.
We reached the border with Palestine, and I saw the famous “separation wall” which had been built by the Israelis, to much controversy. It was supposed to 
keep suicide bombers out of Israel, but many said that it was to keep the Palestinians in; locked-in. Indeed, it could be perceived that way, as the wall is high and imposing. Once we crossed over into Palestine, I saw dusty roads, crumbling buildings, broken windows, abandoned shops. It looked like a war zone, and reminded me of the Palestinian suicide-bomber film “Paradise Now”. I dearly wished I could have taken photographs, but did not dare stick my camera out of the bus window too often! Our first stop was a souvenir shop run by Arabs which sold Christian paraphernalia – crosses, crucifixes, rosaries. It was the triumph of capitalism and commercialism over religion.
We were finally brought to the location which it is said was the birthplace of Jesus – once again, like other “holy sites” we saw, looked nothing like what might have been 2000 years ago. Yet again, a huge church had been built over the spot where it is said the manger stood, and we had
to descend some steps to see this location, below the church. While standing in queue to reach the spot, I had my second “moment” of the trip – a sudden but clear vision of a woman and her baby, and I knew that it was Mary with the baby Jesus. The spot itself was highly ornamented and didn’t lend itself to prayer, what with dozens of persons photographing the spot (like me) and trying to touch it. I said a prayer, but the moment was unreal.
We then headed back into Israeli-occupied Jerusalem, where it had become very cold. We walked in the Jewish Quarter, then did some shopping in a local street market.
The next morning, we realized why it had been so cold the day before. Snow was falling. In the Middle East. In March.
The Stations of the Cross
Our last outing in Jerusalem was to follow the Stations of the Cross – the route Jesus took from Pilate’s palace where he was tried and condemned to death, up through the city bearing his cross, and to the place where he was crucified.
The steps are paved over now, and don’t lend a sense of the difficulty of the journey Jesus must have taken, apart from the fact that it is a steady uphill. When we got to the Fourth Station (Jesus meets his mother), it might be said that it was strange, but I had a strong feeling of the presence of Mary. It was my last “moment” of this trip.
At the location where it is said Jesus’ cross stood, there is … of course, a huge church, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It also contains an empty tomb. As our Israeli guide said, “Of course the tomb is empty, because if it isn’t, then we’re in trouble.” Another religious joke.
Our last stop for the day was the Yad Vashem museum, showing the horrors of the Holocaust. It was difficult to walk through the museum and emerge with dry eyes.
The desert and the Dead Sea
The next morning, our last in Israel, we stopped at Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. We then made our way to the Masada, a fortress I had wanted to see for some time, ever since I heard of its legend. The last zealots held out there for months under siege from the Romans. When the Romans finally gained access into the fortress, they found that all the Jews had killed themselves (leaving some women and children to tell the tale). However, to show that they had not starved to death, they left cisterns full of food. Legend had it that it was a voluntary sacrifice, and for a long time, recruits of the Israeli army took their oath of allegiance on the Masada, declaring that “Masada shall not fall again.”
But that is the legend. Recent studies found that the remaining zealots had not voluntarily taken their own lives, but were effectively forced to do so by their leader. This somewhat punctured
the romance surrounding the story of the fortress, and from that time, the army recruits no longer took their oath of allegiance on Masada.
Still, it remains an impressive sight, a ridiculous fortress built on a rock in the middle of the desert, built by Herod as a holiday bungalow of sorts for himself. A path snakes upwards to the fortress, which I walked down (after taking the cable car up), just so I could say I’d walked the Snake Path!
We then reached the Dead Sea and took a dip in it … pictures I’d seen in books of people floating in the water and being able to hold a book and read it are true! It’s impossible to swim in the water and impossible to drown. It was very easy to float in it, and a lot of fun to play in! One’s skin felt really crinkly after that, though.
Thus ended our trip to the Holy Land. I felt more acquainted with the lands of Jesus, and even discovered certain details about the Bible which I hadn’t realized previously, for example, that Jesus was not quite baptized in the Jordan river, but at Bethany, beyond the Jordan, as stated in the Gospel of John. I needed an Arab Muslim – our Jordanian guide – to tell me this! And to cap it off, I had my own miracle of this trip – when we came down from the Masada, I was informed through sms’s that I’d been promoted for a second consecutive year. Amazing, but true. Just like the greatest story ever told.
The interiors are supposed to remind one of being underwater, and it certainly succeeded. This was the first Gaudi work I visited, and I 
left suitably impressed.
Took a long uphill walk to Parc Guell too, famous for its twisty park benches, which I think I first saw in the film The Spanish Apartment. It takes a strange mind to conceive of such forms, and to build a real-life 
Hansel & Gretel "edible cottage"! I wondered if there was a limit to this man's creations.
site! But as I looked around, I realised that it was a beautiful work in progress ... with very organic pillars (meant to look like trees), and corkscrew spiral stairs that looked like snail shells and were 
scary enough to strike fear into anyone who dared to look down into the void! A walk up to the spires was vertigo-inducing, and the cold winds which blew through the openings in the spires made the experience unforgettable.
It is said that the true magnificence of the Sagrada Familia is in its exterior, so I went out to take in that strange frontage that looked from afar like a giant just dripped melted wax all over it ... and it looked almost like something macabre, out of a horror movie. But as I gazed at it, my jaw dropped as I realised that it was full of sculptures, in fully classical style! They 
showed the birth of Jesus, his early life (when King Herod ordered the slaying of the babies), and the finding in the temple.
The other side of the church has thoroughly modern sculptures of Christ's Passion, and while done in Gaudi's style (note the soldiers' helmets that are 
similar to those on top of La Pedrera), this was the work of his followers as he died before he got around to completing this facade.
The serrated mountain ... a short train ride from Barcelona, and home to a black statue of Mary and Jesus (I didn't know that!). The monastery there is also home to the oldest boys' choir in the world, the Escolania, whom I had the pleasure of hearing at noon that day. 
I then went on a crazy hike to the summit of the mountain, St Jerome's peak, and literally had to run back to the monastery to make sure that I caught the last cable car back down! Why do I do things like that to stress myself while on holiday?
It captures the imagination. The Alhambra of Granada. The Moor's Last Sigh. The story goes that when he was turned out of the city by invaders, he looked back at his magnificent palace one last time and cried. His mother (coldly) said to him, "Weep not like a woman over what 
you could not defend like a man." Apocryphal or not, I wanted to see the palace that would do that to a man, and decided that I would take an overnight train to Granada, since I missed this the last time I was in Spain. Hadn't realised how much the first class cabin would cost ... but oh boy ... the sight was worth it!
No wonder Washington Irving stayed here and waxed lyrical about the place. Courtyards, intricate geometrical designs, the apogee of Arabic culture. Images of 1001 Arabian nights abound.
