The Muslim Quarter and Jerusalem Markets November 12, 2009
Posted by Jeff Block in News, Politics and Culture, Travel.Tags: haggling, Islam, Israel, Jerusalem, shopping
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Our tour today briefly took us through the Muslim quarter in the old city, as we walked from the Temple Mount esplanade (near the eastern gate), past the pool of Bethesda, to Antonia’s fortress, and briefly down part of the Via Dolorosa.
I wanted to share a couple marked differences between the Muslim quarter and the Jewish and Christian quarters. I know some of this isn’t politically incorrect to say, but the facts are…
- The Muslim quarter was dirty. Garbage laid everywhere. Totally different from the other places I saw in the city. It was clear that there was far less value placed on cleaning up after oneself than in other cultures. Sorry, just tellin’ you what I saw.
- It was really crowded, though this doesn’t set it apart from other areas. Like in many of the Jewish streets we walked down, I was constantly bombarded by some guy wanting to sell me something “for two dolla”. We mocked later (probably wrongfully), saying “I’ll give you 2 goats for … something” … a set of pictures on Facebook, maybe. “I make you special deal, my friend.” I don’t know how many times I heard that I was getting a special deal just for me – as was the guy behind me, of course.
- I felt relatively safe. Truthfully, in a group in broad daylight, I didn’t feel any more or less safe in one part of Jerusalem than any other. Our guide definitely cautioned us to stay in a group, especially in the Muslim quarter at night, and I definitely would have discouraged even a small group of white girls wandering around in the city at night. But I didn’t somehow feel less safe in the Muslim quarter than in any of the others.
It would be impossible for me to fully communicate the sensation of shopping on the streets of Jerusalem. It was definitely different than America. It was all about haggling, playing a game with the shop proprieters, etc. I turned out to be fairly good at it, actually. The secret is to know what you’re looking for, have a general sense of what it’s actually worth, and know how much you’re willing to pay for it. Then you have to not really care if you get it or not, and keep walking away until the guy begs you to take it for the price you had in mind in the first place. I found counter offers to be less valuable than just continuing to say “no” and start walking away. One guy even put his arm around me, and somewhat forcibly tried to keep me from leaving. I had to peel out of his grip, and keep walking away. Eventually I got the item I was looking at there for $35, when he started out at “$230, but a special price today of $150″. So, that’s like 76% off even the sale price. Rock on! Another guy said to me once, “I’m a nice guy … you take deal,” to which I replied, “I’m not a nice guy, it’s $40 or I walk.” I got the stuff (originally offered at $110) for $42.
By the way, check out the picture above. This is my roommate, Jace, in a shop in the Muslim quarter. Note the guy in the background. He’s got the whole “get your arm around the tourist and don’t let go until he gives you American dollars” maneuver going on. Been there, done that!
Anyway, at the beginning of the trip, I disliked all the game playing. By the end, I was kinda into it actually.
The Temple Mount November 12, 2009
Posted by Jeff Block in Bible Stories, Philosophy and Religion, Travel.Tags: Abraham, David, Herod the Great, Isaac, Islam, Israel, Muhammad, Temple Mount
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As I’ve already mentioned in another entry, Solomon built the first temple on the site where Abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son Isaac in Genesis 24 and where David built an altar to God in repentance for his sinful choice to number the fighting men of Israel in 2 Samuel 7. Therefore, thousands of years ago, this place became a place of paramount holiness to the Jews.
In the 7th century AD, after Islam had burst onto the seen and Mecca and Medina had been conquered, From TempleMount.org: Muhammad is fabled to have “mounted on the winged steed called Al Burak ‘the Lightning’ and, with the angel Gabriel for escort, was carried from Makkah (Mecca), first to Sinai, and then to Bethlehem, after which they came to Jerusalem. ‘And when we reached Bait al Makdis, the Holy City,’ so runs the tradition, ‘we came to the gate of the mosque (which is the Haram Area), and here Jibrail (Gabriel) caused me to dismount. And he tied up Al Burak to a ring, to which the prophets of old had also tied their steeds.’ (Ibn al Athir’s Chronicle, ii. 37.) Entering the Haram Area by the gateway, afterwards known as the Gate of the Prophet, Muhammad and Gabriel went up to the Sacred Rock, which of old times had stood in the centre of Solomon’s Temple; and in its neighborhood meeting the company of the prophets, Muhammad proceeded to perform his prayer-prostrations in the assembly of his predecessors in the prophetic office Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and others of God’s ancient apostles. From the Sacred Rock Muhammad, accompanied by Gabriel, next ascended, by a ladder of light, up into heaven; and, in anticipation, was vouchsafed the sight of the delights of Paradise.”
So, basically, after 1,000 years of real history, Muhammad (and this isn’t even in the Koran) supposedly rides a magical horse to Jerusalem (for no apparent reason), prays there, and then is taken to heaven on a ladder of light. And with that, the Muslims have claimed for 800 years that this particular piece of mountain is sacred to them too, and therefore endless battle over it.
It was clear that our tour guide deeply resents this entire thing. The Jews discount the Muslim story as a blatant attempt to intrude upon their holy site with the goal of simply being a thorn in their collective side. In other words, the Jews believe that the Muslims created this story and the Dome on the Rock just to piss them off, not because the spot holds any actual historic and spiritual significant for them And I tend to believe the Jewish account more than the Muslim one. (I’m sure you picked that up.)
Anyway, Herod the Great, just before Jesus’ day and long before the Muslims got there, greatly expanded this area. He built a massive retaining wall, and smoothed out the top of Mount Moriah to create a 15 acre temple mount esplanade. Then he greatly enlarged the temple that Ezra and Nehemiah had built hundreds of years before.
That temple – called the Zerubbabel temple – was destroyed in 70 AD by the Romans when they pretty much leveled Jerusalem in general. Interestingly, the Roman commander ordered the soldiers NOT to destroy the temple, because Romans greatly valued architectural beauty. However, because there were rumors that the Jews had hidden massive quantities of gold in the walls of the temple, the soldiers burned it anyway, and then pried the stones apart looking for gold. Hence Jesus prophecy in Mark 13 (and elsewhere) was fulfilled that “Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”
We had to go through long lines at a security checkpoint to gain access to the Temple Mount. Once through security, we ascended a temporary wooden scaffold that was pretty rickety and actually made me a bit nervous. It didn’t help that on the way up there were stacks of riot shields that looked pretty well used. That took us up onto the temple mount esplanade.
The south end of the esplanade, which was the royal colonnade in Jesus’ day (where Jesus overturned the tables of the money changers in Matthew 21), now hosts a large masque called Al-Aqsa. The Dome of the Rock itself stands in the middle of the temple mount esplanade. It was fairly unimpressive to me. Of course, I’m predisposed against its presence there, so I guess that makes sense. It was obvious that a LOT of work had gone into creating the mosaic that surrounds it, and a big gold dome is also pretty cool. But otherwise, it was very plain.
We were not allowed inside, because we’re not Muslim, which makes sense. And I generally didn’t feel in danger or threatened in any way on the Temple Mount. I was impressed by its cleanness. There were trees planted on the mount, and I saw men sweeping up the needles that fell from the trees to keep the area as neat and clean as possible.
We also saw the eastern gate, which was sealed by the Muslims to be a thorn in the Jews’ side. More on that in my post about the Necropole, if you want to read it. I cover that ridiculousness pretty thoroughly there.
One other interesting thing was that there were natural markings in the marble from which the Dome of the Rock itself was built. One of the sections of marble looks like the following. I’m not into signs and portents, but this looks pretty creepy. What do you see when you look at this picture?
Our tour guide sees a demon and pointed it out to us. I guess a bunch of others do to. You be the judge.
Philippines Observation 3: The People October 18, 2008
Posted by Jeff Block in Adoption, Family, Travel.Tags: Communism, Islam, people, Philippines, syndicates
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Part 3 of an eight part series on observations of the Philippines. View the index of all eight entries.
The people were the best part of the Philippines, by far. Almost every person I met there was friendly and coureous, and the people in customer service positions were unmatched in my experience in bending over backwards to take care of the people they were serving. This was true both at the InterContinental hotel in Manila, as well as the the hotel in Laoag. People at the markets, the drivers of the cars we took around Manila, the men and women who worked at the orphanage. In my experience, the Philippine people were a warm, friendly, serving people, and that was great. I’ve been to other countries outside the US, and that’s certainly not always true; not always true here either, btw.
The only two times when I felt that the people weren’t wonderful to be around was when we were driving through the back alleys of Laoag trying to get to the museum there and when were at the bus station in Manila. Both times, I felt like there were lots of people around just waiting to slit my throat and take my wallet. It was like moments of being in a really bad area of town. Gave me the willies.
Other observations? Hmmm… Let me see.
It was very interesting to be a minority. Outside the hotel in Manila, there were VERY few other white people around. I never saw (to my knowledge) another Mexican, which would be so common in America, and I saw a grand total of 3 black people, all at the InterCon. Otherwise, everyone was Asian. There were lots of other Asians in Manila – at least I think so; my eyes aren’t very good so it’s hard for me to tell – but other places it pretty much felt like natives only.
As a seriously minor minority, we stood out like sore thumbs. It didn’t help that I was a full head taller than almost every person we came in contact with. In Laoag, as we wandered around the market, people stared at us, pointed, etc. Three guys even said to me “You’re so tall!” in English. So that was pretty funny.
Another thing I noticed was that the place never seemed to sleep. It seemed like there were always people up and wandering around the street, no matter the day or time. I found that odd. Typically, they were either loitering or sitting at their roadside shanty store hoping someone would want to buy something. The only explanation I could come up with was that abject poverty had led them to a life of hoping that someone would spend even a few pesos at their little store. Sad really.
Philippinos had no facial hair. That was something Faith noticed more quickly than me. Once I started observing, I notice a grand total of 3 men with facial hair – all mustaches. Since then, Asian friends have confirmed that facial hair among asians is both rare and considered odd, which goes back to why people were staring at me, I guess.
Oh, and I can’t leave this out…
In traveling to the Philippines, it was made very clear to us that we should A) always have a guide with us, and B) never travel to the south.
The guide thing was basically a poverty and perspective thing. Many people in the Philippines are very poor, and they categorically view Americans as very rich. Therefore, I was told a number of times that it would be easy for someone to basically look at you like a predator who is trying to think of how to get his prey into a dark alley alone. Basically, they said, always have a native with you, and stay in very public places. Plus, the guide can help you know where you were going (a must since signs, even street signs, were non-existent), and can help you haggle when buying things at market, because they know the ways of the locals.
The “never go south” thing is about the fact that there is a large and growing Muslim community in the Philippines. Particularly on islands to the south, there are very militant, very fundamentalist Muslim groups, who have taken over and made it very unsafe for foreigners.
Then we get up north, and learn that they’re not the only ones. We were driving between Dingras, Laoag and the orphanage, admiring the mountains in the distance to the north. Faith made a comment about how beautiful they were, and Brian (the director at the orphanage) launched into how the communists live up in the hills. According to him, it’s even more dangerous up there than it is in the south. At least in the south, you’re just taking your chances. Evidently, there’s no law up north, and foreigners are just shot on sight. So, whether or not that’s true, it was enough to make me want to stick to the rice field laiden planes … and with a local at all times. 
Lastly, it’s improtant to talk about the children. There are evidently some 200 million street children in the world, and a radically disproportionate number live in the Philippines. Evidently, these children are organized in the cities by “syndicates”, which sound a lot like mafia. They claim the children, abuse them, and then make sure they’re on the streets all day every day to beg for money. They then take the money, give the children enough food to keep them alive, and throw them back on the street to make them more money. Children can be out on the street as young as just a few months old. The girls are sexually abused, and if they get pregnant, that’s just one more worker for the syndicate. Children are sometimes even mamed or otherwise severely injured to engender more sympathy from tourists or whoever else might be generous enough to through them a few pesos. It’s absolutely horrible.
In fact, the day we left Shekinah, they took in a group of four siblings. The youngest had meningitis and went pretty much straight to the hospital. We’re not even sure she’ll make it. The oldest girl had been raped by mom’s boyfriends, and was in pretty bad emotional shape as a result. All were severely undernurished, and exhibited evidence of torture. It was SO sad, and I was glad that they were now in a place where they were safe from abuse, and would be well taken care of by people who love them and love Christ, and want to redeem and rescue children in their position.
Visiting two orphanages and the governmental agency for International adoption during our trip, we definitely got our share of horror stories about children, neglect and abuse. It was really sad, and sometimes I had to just tune it out to keep it from becoming overly depressing. You just can’t rid the world of evil. All you can do is oppose it, and change the world for one child at a time, which is what we’re glad we can do for John. And in return, he has given us a family – something we’ve wanted for a long time now. So, the blessing is mutual. We are truly blessed by him.
Okay, time for bed. More tomorrow.
