INDEPENDENCE

Sixty-one years ago, Jerusalem was under siege. Its citizens barely subsisted on rationed water, a few ounces of flour a week, and some vegetables grown in garden plots. Khubeiza, a green leaf made into bread and soup, was gathered in no man’s land while dodging bullets from the walls of the Old City. Jaffa lay in ruins: an Arab city destroyed by the Haganah. The new nation fought desperately with a couple of WWII planes, home made bombs, and weapons smuggled in during the British mandate (that is, those not confiscated) against neighbors committed to their immediate annihilation. The only democracy in the middle-east faced certain death.

In 1948, I had just started my first year in Tulane Medical School, financed by the GI Bill and a summer job at Maison Blanche.

Today, Independence Day in Israel, Ruby and I are at the Honey Beach Restaurant on the azure, blue and green Mediterranean Sea in Jaffa. How times have changed.

We people watch, eat, drink, and marvel at the show put on by the Israeli Air Force and the Navy. Right over our heads thunders the Israeli version of the Blue Angels, streaming smoke. Many of their pilots trained in Pensacola. An air parade of three supply planes (Fat Alberts), a tanker refueling three Mirage fighters, and four different El Al commercial jets representing the various platforms that ferry world wide visitors to and from Ben Gurion airport extends the performance to nearly an hour.

Meanwhile, Naval units - virtual destroyers, gunboats, assault ships, supply vessels, and helicopters - bear down on the sandy beach passing in review. They are followed by flotillas of civilian sailboats demanding their moment to celebrate this great event.

The Old City of Jaffa is being rebuilt. Adjacent Tel Aviv is a modern metropolis sporting a skyline which could be the envy of an Atlanta, Rome, or Tokyo. How times have changed.

Crowds of Israeli families pitch tents, grill, and play games in the parks and public spaces. The landscape is awash with baby strollers, dogs, happy sounds, and the sumptuous smell of barbeque smoke. The eating places are full and service is slow but who cares. We are having fun. All of us! They are proud of their country and not afraid to say so.

You don’t believe in miracles? Then read how this nation was founded; how it continues to exist, and how it continues to grow. Come and see the desert converted into green pastures, olives, leeks, potatoes, corn, flowers, and cities. Israel not only feeds its seven million people, it exports food to help feed the world. And as lagniappe, meet friendly people who live in a land where each rock turned over is history. Are we loving Israel all over again? You bet!

ROOM WITH A VIEW

We have a Room with a View. Not of the Arno, like Lucy Honeychurch’s, but one which we much prefer. Our bedroom window overlooks a cemetery which intrigued us from the first. There, cut deep into a slab, was the outline of a large cross. Near it stood a red granite obelisk and a square headstone. Other graves were scattered about in the small plot. It seemed to be walled in with no entrance, so we had no hope of visiting the graves. We contented ourselves by looking at the tombstones through binoculars and taking pictures.

One of the treats of having the graveyard under our window is the birds find sanctuary amid the thistles, pomegranate tree, dandelions, cane, and bushes growing there. I’ve spent hours watching the sparrows, hooded crows, doves, martins, and others as they fly in, rest, peck in the leaves and weeds, and fly away.

One morning, unexpectedly, a pair of ring-necked parakeets appeared. They fascinated us as they perched on a flimsy limb to guard a knot hole. The female wriggled into the hole and stayed for awhile. Occasionally, the male flew in for a visit. Curious sparrows came and watched, too. The parakeets didn’t seem to mind. But, when the hooded crows came near, there was a fierce confrontation.

We had considered it just a bird-watchers’ paradise until last Shabbat. While I was videoing the parakeets, I was interrupted. Then surprised. Surprised, because I heard voices coming from across the graveyard. Then, even more surprised to see a dozen people headed toward the obelisk.

I aimed my camera at the group. The tour guide was miked, so I could hear him very well. He was speaking Hebrew and pointing to the obelisk. The words I understood were, “Hodgkin, Hodgkin’s Disease”. He read the epitaph in English. Then he read Brigadier General Edward Thomas Michell’s epitaph, also in English. Soon after the group left, another arrived.

One of us is a history buff and both of us are interested in genealogy. We had to find the entrance to the graveyard.

Yesterday afternoon we struck out. Several blind alleys later, we found a lane off Yefet Street winding through a well-worn neighborhood. Skirting the boys’ soccer game, we followed an overgrown path to a rusty gate crowned by a cross. Hidden behind a dirty metal sign and a dilapidated fence was the treasure. A Christian graveyard. I pushed aside the weeds and brushed debris from the old stones so Neal could take photos.

As we read the epitaphs, these long-dead people who struggled so valiantly in an alien land became our brothers and sisters.

Here are some of the epitaphs:

Here rests the body of Thomas Hodgkin, M.D. - of Bedford Square London
A man distinguished alike - for scientific attainment - medical skill
and self sacrificing philanthropy - He died at Jaffa - the 4th of April 1866
in the 68th year of his age - In the faith and hope of the gospel – humani nihil a se alienum putabat - The epitaph is inscribed by his - deeply sorrowing widow & brother to record their irreparable loss
††
Sacred to the memory of - Brigadier General Edward Thomas Michell - of the Royal Artillery - Commanding the Forces of Her Britannic Majesty in Syria - Companion of the Order of the Bath - Commander of Isabella the Catholic - and Knight of St. Ferdinand and of Charles III of Spain - who died at Jaffa on the 24th of January 1841 - AE [age]54 -
He was distinguished by high and noble qualities - By long and brilliant services - And by the affection and regard of all who knew him - The officers of H. B. Majesty’s forces serving in Syria - In testimony of their esteem and regret - To render sacred the spot where his remains repose
††
In memory of Elizabeth Caroline Wardlaw Ramsay - For many years a missionary of the C.M.S. at Acca [Akko] - who died at Jaffa - January 18, 1913.
Be thou faithful unto death and I will give thee a crown of life
††
Mrs. Weinberg - Born. Feb.3.1850 - Died. Aug. 24.1896.
In hope of the Resurrection
I Cor. XV.58
††
Capt. T. W. Sharp of Newville Pensylvania [sic] U. S. A.
Born May 24, 1831 - Died April 7, 1881. Rejoice O grieving heart!
The hours fly fast;
In each some sorrow dies,
In each some shadow flies
Until at last
The red down in the east
Bids weary night depart
And pain is past.
††
In loving remembrance of Mary Briscod Baldwin - forty two years a missionary of the Protestant Episcopal Church of America - At Athens, Greece - And Joppa, Palestine –born in Virginia U.S.A. – May 20, 1811 – died in Jaffa – June 20, 1877- there is no difference - between the Jew and the Greek – for the same Lord over all – rich unto all that call – upon Him - for, whosoever- shall call upon the name - of the Lord shall be saved – how beautiful are the feet – of them that preach the – gospel of peace, and bring – glad tidings of good things
††
Sacred to the memory of - Jane - daughter of - Professor G. A. Walker-Arnot, - (of Glasgow University) - Born 1st June 1834, died 21st May 1911. - Who founded the Tabeetha Mission School - and for 48 years - devoted herself to that work in Jaffa. -Looking for the blessed hope and the glory of the great God and our Savior JesusChrist.
††
What an intriguing lady. The school still exists right around the corner. Interested? See http://www.tabeethaschool.com/

What a gracious reward for just looking out our window.

MIXED EMOTIONS

We’re beginning our last week in Jaffa and I’m nostalgic already. Nostalgic for the comfort and peace we’ve enjoyed in the Condo and the people and places we’ve enjoyed in Jaffa. We finally feel at home here and have developed a routine. We have shopped at the local grocery stores and fruit markets. We feel comfortable cooking and doing the laundry and just sitting around, reading and making plans.

From our bedroom window, we’ve watched a pair of bright green ring-necked parakeets as they set up housekeeping. A laughing dove came and sat on that same window sill beside the open window and cooed softly. From the balcony, we watched the hooded crows and heard their raucous cry.

We’ve found a favorite coffee bar with our favorite waitress: Vicky at Café Rojet. We just sit at a table and say, “We’ll have our regular,” and she laughs and brings it. Our regular is Café Gelato, a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a glass with espresso poured over it. Neal has a thimbleful of Irish Whiskey added to his. She always points out the one with the Irish Whiskey in it.

We are regulars at Steimatzky’s book store where we bought maps, postcards and bookmarks, and get the Friday’s edition of The Jerusalem Post. Neal has a running joke there with one of the clerks about writing a guidebook to Jaffa.

We’ve thoroughly explored the Old City of Jaffa and enjoyed walking up to Kedumim Square and sitting in the sun to watch the tourists. They come from all over Israel and Europe. We’ve seen only a few people who speak American English.

We’ve taken side trips from here to Ashkelon, Ashdod, and Be’er Sheba, which before were only Biblical names to us. Now we can feel the desert heat, the dust, the dryness when we read about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in Be’er Sheba and picture the beautiful Mediterranean when we read about Ashkelon and Ashdod.

This week we’ve driven to Jerusalem a couple of times: first, to locate the condo we’ll be moving into and second, to try to find parking. We had great success with the first; the Condo is in a perfect location, one block from the Old City. It’s directly behind the Municipal Buildings in Sabra Square. We followed the directions of the landlady, walking all the way up the 36 stairs to the landing at the front door. We’re going to be in a very interesting place. The building seems to be occupied by Orthodox Jews. The front porch goes across the entire front of the building and is full of baby carriages and bicycles.

We had no success finding suitable parking. Parking is a very complicated process in the city of Jerusalem. Though there is a municipal garage just across the street from the condo, it would cost about $40 a day to park there. They offer no weekly or monthly rates. Parking on the street can be done only with a pass and would be expensive, too. The curbs are marked with five different colors denoting who can park where.

So, we’ve decided to give up our trusty little Subaru: another reason for my nostalgia. I’ve gotten used to its eccentricities: the way it struggles and complains up the hills and mountains to Jerusalem, punching in the numbers before I can start the car, and backing it into the narrow parking space in the garage (always with Neal’s help). We’ll rent a car when we need it to drive to the Galilee. On the bright side, the Subaru is covered with dust now and every time we rent a new one, it’ll be shiny and clean.

Next week Israel will be celebrating Independence Day. There are flags and banners everywhere, even in the condo’s courtyard. We hope to take a walk on the Promenade to Tel Aviv and we still have the Jaffa Archaeological Museum to visit. We’re planning to enjoy every moment of our last week in Jaffa.

Then: UP TO JERUSALEM!

ELAH VALLEY - TEL AZEKA

Passover week is nearly past. It is Wednesday, 15 April, 3PM in Jaffa (Yafo in Hebrew).

This is the third Pessah (the eight day celebration of the Jewish Exodus) we have spent in Israel. For me, it has been the most difficult. Later, after I process some of it I’ll tell you why. For now, I am tossed in a storm of sadness, elation and confusion. No, not confused about my own firm convictions, but “why all around me are losing their heads,” when the answers are so obvious. It is like being Jonah in the storm, accepting the responsibility for peril, willing to pay the price, dreading the consequences but with faith in the outcome. Or like those fishermen in a boat on the stormy waters of Kinneret when He said, “Take heart, it is I. Do not be afraid.” So, please bear with me and I’ll share Passover with you later.

For now, come with me to an area where David achieved much of his fame.

Yesterday we explored the valley of Elah. This is a strange word. The geography is easy. The valley is between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. It is accessible from modern freeway #1 at the exit to Beit Shemesh, leading south on Highway 38. A circuitous descent with a winding road leads past the ruins of Beit Shemesh to highway 383, Turn west, then south up that steep one way incline labeled “British Park” (don’t ask me why) to Tel Azeka (Azekah). Climb the hot, dusty, stony path to the top of the Tel. Before you is the Elah Valley stretching north and south with a range of mountains hiding Hobat Sokho (Socoh) to the east!

The word? One meaning of “Elah” in Aramaic (the language of Jesus) is “God.” It also translates as “awesome, fearful One.” The origin of the word is obscure. But this meaning in our present context is powerful.

Elah is the place where David showed the awesome, fearful power of his God by slaying Goliath, the giant from Gath, and putting the Philistine horde to flight. To stand here is to replay the drama from I Samuel 17. Listen! Goliath is stomping up and down right there in that rocky gorge, shouting to that boy, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the beasts of the field.” And that boy confidently replied, “…I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts … I will strike you down and cut off your head.” And he did!

Beit Shemesh and Abu Ghosh (Kiriath Jearim) - other places in the Elah valley significant in the life of David. Read about the exciting journey of the Ark of the Covenant in I Samuel 5, 6 and II Samuel 6. The Philistines gave it up at Beit Shemesh and David took it from Kiriath Jearim to Jerusalem in a fantastic parade.

We returned to Yafo. Jerusalem comes later.

EASTER IN JAFFA

What is Easter like in Jaffa? The only evidence we’ve seen was week before last. We passed by a Church School as the Arab children, about first through third grade age, were being picked up by their parents. The children were carrying little flat boxes with candy. We think they had had an Easter party. St. Peter’s Catholic Church in the Old City will have Easter services in English today at 9:00.

We have seen no Easter baskets or bunnies, no pastel colored eggs or candies, no Easter cards, frocks, or hats. Though there are several Churches here, we’ve seen no ads in the newspapers announcing services and no full page ads announcing, “He Is Risen”.

If not for Passover, it would be just an ordinary weekend. But, here, it’s all about Passover. Many Jews from the States and other countries come here for the Passover Holidays. Our waitress at the coffee shop in the Mall at Tel Aviv asked us if we had come for Pesach (Passover). The folks here greet each other with “Hag Sameach” (Happy Holidays). The Super Market shelves that hold foods containing leaven or that might contain leaven are covered with paper.

Our bakery that makes wonderful breads and sweet rolls will be closed the whole week of Passover. When we stopped by the bakery on Wednesday to pick up bread and a couple of sweet rolls, the cashier was singing and doing a little dance behind the counter because they would close at two and be off for the whole week of Passover.

One of our favorite restaurants, Dr. Shakshuka’s, closed Wednesday afternoon and will open today or Monday. We had lunch there on Wednesday and our waiter insisted we have the special Passover lunch. He warned us against eating too much matzo (unleavened bread) since there was a lot of food to come.

Some businesses here take a shorter holiday. Some businesses don’t observe Passover Holidays, so we’ve been able to have lunch at a restaurant on the Promenade overlooking the Med. We’re still amazed at the beauty of the water. There are three restaurants all in a row and Neal picked the one with the best view. For three shekels ( 75 cents), we had unlimited bread fresh from the oven: long, flat loaves brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with rosemary leaves and slices of regular loaves with crunchy sesame seeds all around.

The Promenade bustled with babies and dogs again. The street performers would come later. As for us, we faded into the crowd and felt extremely blessed to be here.

Hag Sameach.

A DAY AT THE MALL

We drove to Tel Aviv yesterday (Monday) morning. It was an adventure just getting out of Jaffa. My navigator took me right through the giant Flea Market. I drove very slowly to avoid the occasional shopper who would just step off the curb right in front of the car. The streets aren’t laid out in a grid and one-way streets pop up at the most inconvenient time. We took the super highway to Exit 18; our destination: the mall next to the Central Bus Station. We made it to the Bus Station but didn’t see a mall. We wouldn’t have gone there anyway since, as most bus stations in big cities, this one was in a seamy part of town. We had located another Mall on the map about five miles farther, so we headed there. It’s on Einstein Street. After a guard opened the door and looked in the back seat and checked out the trunk, we were allowed to drive into the underground garage. We took a ticket from the automatic dispenser and had no trouble finding a parking spot and getting into the entrance to the Mall. Neal noticed two tall machines prominently displayed in the Lobby on the parking level that had slots to insert money or credit cards, with instructions in Hebrew. Explaining the unexplainable, I declared it a machine for buying lottery tickets. We headed upstairs to the beautiful modern mall that was open, airy, spacious, and full of daylight. In the atrium, we found ourselves surrounded by coffee bars. We chose one and were seated by a waitress who warned us the credit card machine was out of order and we would need to pay cash. We ordered a cappuccino for me, a latte for Neal, and an almond croissant to share. Our friendly waitress asked us if we were in Tel Aviv for Passover. We told her no, that our vacation just coincided with the holidays. She said we should be ready to eat lots of matzo, but that some people continue to eat bread. They stock up on it before the holidays. We took our time, enjoying our coffee and the big puffy croissant, while I checked out the wide variety of fashion styles of the ladies who were passing by. Most wore painted on jeans or baggy, baggy trousers. We took a stroll around the mall, dodging the baby buggy brigade. We had taken our cell phones with us in case we found a store that could put SIM cards in them. We found the kiosk marked “Orange” which had been recommended to us and waited while the young woman helped two other customers. Our relief at finally being waited on was short-lived. She was out of SIM cards but was expecting them “in a couple of hours”. We went to another kiosk with cell phones and the man there said we should go to the “Orange” kiosk. Neal asked about renting a phone but neither of them had phones for rent. We figured we must not need a cell phone now and decided to head back to Jaffa. We found our car and drove to the exit where I put the parking ticket in the machine and waited for the arm to raise. Nothing happened. I turned it over and inserted it again. Nothing. I tried it every which way while cars were piling up behind us. The folks here seem very patient at such times. I waved my ticket out the window and the lady behind us backed up and went to the exit next to us. Her ticket worked just fine. Neal suggested I back up and find a place to park until we could figure out what to do next. I pulled up next to the door where we had entered the Mall. People were putting their parking tickets in the machines we had seen earlier. Neal went in, put our parking ticket in a machine, paid 8 shekels, retrieved our ticket, and we were on our way. We had had enough of big city life and got the heck out of Dodge. After a beautiful drive along the coast, we got to Jaffa in time for a late lunch at Dr. Shakshuka’s Restaurant. Neal ordered vegetable soup and couscous, I ordered beef stewed with eggplant and okra. We shared our meal and licked our platters clean. Afterward, we ambled over to the Promenade and down to the beach. The wind was high, the surf was kicking up, and the sun was shining. We walked along the sandy beach picking up sea glass, shells, rocks, and pottery shards. In spite of the wind and waves we were delighted to have a few “quiet moments” together after a day of cultural re-adjustment.

More pictures of the Flea Market.

Kedumim Square. Shabbat.

Tel Aviv from Kedumim Square. Old Jaffa

Even after centuries, the fishing industry is alive and well in Old Jaffa.

The bundles contain fishing nets.

EVEN MORE PHOTOS OF JAFFA

Old Jaffa Wharf. Street Performers. Shabbat.

Another street performer.

Simon the Tanner's House. Peter's host (Acts 9:43).

Simon's House.

Simon's House 3.

MORE JAFFA PHOTOS

Old Jaffa Harbor with part of ancient sea wall.

Modern Tel Aviv from Jaffa Promenade.

Yefet Street. The main street of Old Jaffa.

We turn at this corner and are soon at our Condo.

PHOTOS OF JAFFA

Clock Tower built in 1900 in honor of the Sultan. Israel was part of the Ottoman Empire then.

SHABBAT MEANDERINGS IN OLD JAFFA

Inspired by learning that Peter had stayed with Simon the Tanner when he was called to Jaffa from Lydda (see Acts, chapters 9 and 10), we set out yesterday about noon to see the traditional site of Simon’s house. We stopped at Café Roget near the Clock Tower to have a cappuccino and people watch for awhile. We noticed a noose hanging from the tall (about 10 stories high) portal on the corner. Since I am great at explaining the unexplainable, I decided it was put there for Purim – the celebration of Esther’s feast (Esther 9:23 – 32) which I think was about six weeks ago. Neal wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t have a better explanation. I asked our waitress and she said she didn’t know but thought it “was for beauty”. I like my story better. We wandered over to the promenade to join the hundreds of other folks who were strolling along and headed south along the beautiful Mediterranean Sea. Honestly, the water is almost as beautiful as at Pensacola Beach.
Emerald green at the shoreline. Family groups, almost all with little children and a baby in a stroller, lots of dogs on leashes, Muslims, Jews, Japanese, Filipinos, Brits, Germans, and at least two Americans were out to enjoy the glorious weather. We walked to the end of the promenade where there was a street fair in progress. A clown was greeting the children, a husband and wife acrobat team was entertaining a crowd, and vendors of costume jewelry and trinkets were displaying their wares. A fish restaurant with tables on the wharf was crowded with hungry folks. Scores of commercial fishing boats were tied up at the dock that was piled high with fishing nets. Tour boats were coming and going. We climbed the steps up to Simon’s house perched on the side of the cliff. It is just a little stone house with a flat roof which we probably wouldn’t have even noticed if not for the sign painted over the door. Neal took some pictures and we sat and pondered for awhile. We lunched at the nearby Aladin’s Restaurant – a feast of whole roasted eggplant, falafel, and French fries. Our table was outside with a spectacular view of the city of Tel Aviv. We strolled back to Roget’s café for dessert – espresso poured over vanilla ice cream. Simply delicious. By the way, 99% of the people here speak Hebrew. We hear very little English, which seems to be their second language (or third).
Except for the signs in Hebrew, we could be convinced that we were in Italy – the warm friendliness, the food, the congestion, the sounds, the joy of the people and the all around ambience of “ain’t it great to be here”. Shabbat Shalom (Sabbath Peace).

NO PHOTOS YET

Hey! As soon as I can figure out how to send photos, I'll send you some.

ARRIVAL & SHABBAT

Day five of our Israel trip has dawned. It is Sunday, April 5, 2:45 AM, but still Saturday 6:45 PM in Pensacola. Any wonder we have jet lag?

We arrived at Ben Gurion airport, Tel Aviv, Israel, after a 12 hour flight from Atlanta at 5:30 PM Israeli time. Getting the rental car – no problem. Thanks to prior reservations. Getting to Jaffa via Tel Aviv – a problem! Usually a 30 minute trip, it exploded into about 4 hours. Ruby drove. I “navigated” through many strange Tel Aviv streets with names like, “Shay Agnon,” “Ayalon,” “Ibin Gabirol,” “Levanon,” and “Ha-Yarkon” looking for “Yafet” in Old Jaffa. Knowing the Mediterranean was west helped but an outdated miniature map and a misleading compass, heavily influenced by the metal in our Subaru, told me west was east and sometimes north. Finally the illuminated hill with the ancient buildings of Old Jaffa filled the horizon (cities on hills can’t be hid). Below it was Yafet Street and our home for the next month.

Not yet finished with a tiring day? And/or night? we set out from the condominium complex for supper. Only trouble was the key to the outer gate didn’t fit when we returned. I was spared the humiliation of falling off the steel fence which kept us out when a couple with the secret code rescued us in. Now our approach is through the underground garage with a radio remote to open the massive metal gates. We feel like mice sneaking into the halls of the Capitol.

Between eating, trying to sleep, grocery shopping and exchanging money the next three days vanished. Saturday was Shabbat (the Sabbath in Israel). How we and the Israelis in Jaffa spent that day is the subject of the following pictures.

DEJA VU

We have gotten lost in cities all around the world. (I'm never afraid when I'm lost with Neal because I know he'll find our way sooner or later.) And now we can say we've been lost in Tel Aviv. Had no idea where we were. We arrived on schedule at Ben Gurion Airport, sailed through passport control and customs, got our rental car with no problems, and set out for Tel Aviv with me driving and Neal acting as Navigator. It just works best that way for us. As we were driving along, folks kept honking their horns and waving at us. What friendly folks! They were trying to tell me that my door wasn't closed. It took me a couple of tries, swinging it open and trying to close it while trying not to run into anyone or off the highway. Neal had a map, compass, and his good sense of direction going for him, but we still got lost. And it was dark. We wound up at the University in Tel Aviv. When we stopped to get our bearings, an Israeli soldier happened by and Neal called out to him and asked if he could tell us how to get to Jaffa. He said he wasn't from this area and didn't know. I asked him if he could tell us where we were and he didn't know that either. But he did point us in a direction (I'm not sure what that was now - jet lag.). We continued in that direction until we found our way to Jaffa and the condo. Fortunately, the landlord had sent us directions and step-by-step photos to help us find the condo, the underground garage, and our parking space. It probably won't be the last time we get lost. By the way, Neal found that the compass was inaccurate in the car. He thinks there's some kind of metal or magnetism or something that affected it. It would point E one time and W another even when we were headed in the same direction. We decided there is a life lesson there somewhere. Be sure that you're using a compass that works all the time, no matter the circumstances. I wonder - what is your life's compass?