What Happened To My Underpants?

We arrived in Israel on Wednesday, September 22, late afternoon. We then departed Israel on Wednesday, September 22, even later in the afternoon. "Where's our camera?" Kaitlyn asked, hoping I was hiding it somewhere, playing the old “let’s hide the camera so our girlfriend will freak out” game. "I don't know...what did you do with it?" I lovingly responded, knowing full well that I hadn't seen the thing since our arrival in Amman, three days before. After being pulled aside for a “random screening” (though I’m sure my cartoonish beard and arm full of various bracelets had nothing to do with it) by the Israeli authorities and subsequent twenty minute interrogation about my background, relationship with Kaitlyn, and reasons for entering Israel, we came to the very unfortunate realization that we had left our camera behind somewhere in Amman. We hopped back on the bus, back towards the Jordanian border, back through the contentious no-man’s-land between the two nations, and back into an expensive taxi for the 45 minute journey to Amman. Fortunately, we were staying with Elodie and Isabelle, two French girls living in Amman and who we met back in Dahab, Egypt, Kaitlyn’s newest friends and dive buddies. The camera, as it turned out, was in the trunk of the car of a friend of theirs, left behind after our first arrival. We both were very relieved of this news, happy our months of memories were still intact.

Aside from being exponentially more expensive than its neighbors, Jordan was one of our favorite places. Much to both of our surprise, Amman is a modern metropolis, with shopping plazas galore, law abiding drivers, and shining rays of progressive ideas abounding. It was here, at the crossroads of Arabia and modernity, that Kaitlyn was to find out the news that would forever change her life (not to mention set the tone for the rest of our trip!). On Monday, September 20, 2010, Kaitlyn Michelle Bagnato became Kaitlyn Michelle Bagnato, Esquire! On a stoop next to a small shop down a side street in Amman, complete with onlookers not sure what to make of the tears and simultaneous cheers and hugs, we found out that Kaitlyn passed the Florida Bar exam. After three years of arduous work and two months of nonstop studying and cramming (and a delight to be around throughout, of course!), her efforts have finally paid off. We bought a few cans of beer, gathered a bottle of wine, and headed back to our amazing flat near the French embassy in Amman to celebrate with our French friends.

After eight action-packed days in Jordan consisting of camping with Bedouins in beautiful Wadi Rum, exploring ancient Petra, canyoning to an amazing waterfall in Wadi Mujib, being driven through the country by our new German friends, floating in the Dead Sea, seeing Jesus’ baptismal site at Bethany-Beyond-the-Jordan, enjoying the small town feel of Christian Madaba and the big city feel of Amman, and discovering that a lawyer is now among us, it was time to hit the road again and head across the mighty and imposing Jordan River, the one-foot wide boundary between Jordan and Israel.

We passed through security without a hitch this time around, thankfully, and headed straight for Jerusalem. Having spent the better part of the past two months in or around walled cities, we were not terribly impressed or in awe of the Old City walls surrounding Jerusalem. But then, once inside, we both felt a certain degree of magic in the air. Though neither one of us have ever really been the crazy for religion, WWJD bracelet wearing type, there was still something sublime about being in Jerusalem, being in such a holy and austere place, where so much history and battles over belief have taken place. For me, the religion major and incessant spiritual seeker, Jerusalem has always been the cradle of faith, the eternal alpha and omega of all things God.

The Old City is divided into four quadrants, each with their distinct personality. The Muslim Quarter is awash in small markets like we have been in and out of for the past few months, with men selling various sundries for both locals and tourists. This quarter is distinctly Arab, where good deals can be had if you bargain correctly, and each seller proudly displays something that ties them to their Palestinian roots. Next is the Christian Quarter, with the dividing lines between the two quarters being completely blurred as the only thing that really changes is who the shopkeepers’ target audience becomes and crosses and rosaries begin to replace knockoff designer brand clothes and shawarma (like a gyro) stands. And the sad part is that everything still comes from the same place: China! Having also gone through decades of turmoil between Roman times, the Crusades, Byzantine rule, etc., most of the Old City isn’t as really “old” as many of the faithful would like to believe. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the beautiful edifice built atop the place of Jesus’ crucifixion and full of amazing artwork and antiquities in memoriam, is a very old building that has remained standing through all the surrounding conflict. However, inside the church there remains items that are perhaps more symbolic than actual remnants, such as several devotional pillars rumored to have been at Jesus’ feet during the crucifixion or a small cave area inside the church alleged to have been the first burial spot of Jesus. To the devoted, authenticity, I reckon, is not so much a matter of fact but rather a matter of faith. The Via Dolorosa, or Stations of the Cross, are marked along a pathway leading to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. With the city being virtually discombobulated several times over the past two thousand years, the layout of things has also obviously changed. We walked the Via Dolorosa, following along in the final steps of Jesus’ life, despite the likelihood of its historical inauthenticity, just like the thousands of tour groups and millions of other pilgrims that do each year. It was still a remarkable and surreal experience, being in Jerusalem, the place where it all happened, and walking in the footsteps of Jesus, even if they were just symbolic.


Joe at the Wailing Wall

 With numerous churches ,mosques, and synagogues around every corner, the entire Old City is a holy (and wholly) blur of spirituality. A third quarter, the Armenian Quarter, randomly enough, is quieter and seemingly more residential than the other parts. Why Armenian? Apparently, Armenia was the first to embrace Christianity and so were thusly rewarded with a place in the Holy Land. Despite the nomenclature and few Armenian mosaic shops, the quarter, adjacent to a large Greek contingent, feels less Armenian (whatever that means) and more distinctly Greek.

Dome of the Rock

Finally, the fourth quarter, the Jewish Quarter, has probably undergone the most changes through its history. What stands today is a very new, very clean, and very quaint neighborhood. With children running around in their little yarmulkes, women in their long skirts, and men in their stereotypical yet still cartoonishly long and curly side hair flapping underneath their large sable Russian hat looking things and black outfits, the Jewish Quarter felt surprisingly calm compared to its neighbors. The centerpiece of the Jewish Quarter is the Western Wall (or Wailing Wall) that is all that remains from the Second Temple and the object of much of their devotion. Men and women are divided to different areas of the wall where they can often be seen rocking back and forth in devotion, reading from their scriptures, praying, eating bagels with smears of lox (just kidding! Stereotypes are fun!) or writing notes to be inserted into the wall, messages to be delivered to God.

All in all, I would have to say that I was surprised about just how small it all was. I guess hearing Bible stories as a kid in CCD classes on Sunday mornings (before blurring it all out, of course) made it all seem like such a vast area. In reality, we covered it all with ease, from the place of the Last Supper outside the wall, to the Temple Mount and the Dome of the Rock, to the Mount of Olives, the Garden of Gethsemane and Mary’s Tomb, all the way back with time to spare to walk the Via Dolorosa, barely breaking a sweat.

We never felt in danger during our time in Jerusalem, despite the abundance of armed soldiers running to and fro on a seemingly very important mission somewhere. I received an email from my mother one day that read something like this, “OMG Joey! I just saw on the news about the violence in Jerusalem! Please tell me you guys are okay!!!” to which I had to research whatever it was that occurred, since nothing seemed out of the ordinary or peculiar whatsoever. It turns out that an Israeli security guard killed a Palestinian, which led to some riots, and blah blah blah, the usual sort of stuff we hear about on the news all the time. The fact is that oftentimes, as is the case with everything I guess, the actual reality of the situation is far less dramatic or indicative than the media would have us believe. Nevertheless, we opted against venturing into the West Bank towards Bethlehem to see the Palestinian side of the Middle East equation because of all the peace talk negotiating going on at the time. The situation is tense. It has always been tense and it will probably always be tense. The fight is about so much more than land, so much more than politics, and so much more than religion. I’ll spare you a lengthy diatribe on the topic and instead tell you that I bought/made a t-shirt with the city of Jerusalem on the front and on the back, the simple word “coexist” formed with the religious symbols of the three major faiths constructing the c, x and t. Hopefully, one day it will happen...

After Jerusalem, we boarded a bus for the 45 minute ride to Tel Aviv, likely the most modern stop on our entire journey. Besides being ridiculously expensive, we both loved every aspect of the city. From the dog friendliness (they were even allowed in the indoor mall!), to the young professionals, to the walkability of the city, to the beautiful beaches, to the progressive ethos, it personally reminded me of San Diego, which as everyone knows, is the most fantastic city ever. There were no armed guards anywhere, no city walls, and worries whatosever...just the beach, the mall, and the three movies we got to see at the theatre (Go see Eat, Pray, Love!!!), another wonderful and peaceful end to yet another country.

We spent Monday evening at the Tel Aviv airport, waiting for our flight to Athens, Greece, and then onwards to Istanbul, where we currently sit and absolutely love so far. It’s now October, with two months abroad officially behind us. We’ve been in and out of ten countries so far and our passports are getting full. We look forward to a more relaxing October in Turkey before heading off to India and onwards to Southeast Asia! Please keep letting us know that you know we’re still alive (and are glad!) and we’ll be happy to write you back. Sometimes, it does get lonely all the way over here...!

Musings...

Things I have lost thus far along the journey: 10-15 pounds (I know, I know...it’s about time right?!?), several city maps, full water bottles, and sodas, my freaking Iphone, and, believe it or not, somehow I’ve managed to lose three pairs of my own underpants...

I had no idea how many black Jews there are...

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