I brought my beloved to Israel to celebrate our first wedding anniversary in 2000. After arriving at Ben Gurion Airport, we took a bus to Tiberias Bus Station. We settled in a hotel for the next three days. However, the Jewish New Year, or Rosh Hashanah, was about to begin, thus every shop closed, and every bus and sherut service ceased for the national holiday. We were also cashless due to a lack of proper foresight and planning. By the time we arrived at Haifa on our way to Stella Carmel Christian Conference Centre in Isfya, Israel's third largest city was more of a ghost town.
We were then left stranded on the crest of Mt Carmel ridge, in the summit town of Merkaz Hakarmel. Thinking that the tall block of Haifa University was no more than a mile or so further along the road, from where we were, it came into view - over 7 km away, or four miles. We realised that our destination must have been twice that distance, and I was shocked about how I had grossly underestimated the route using memory from 1994, alone.
On my own, I quite likely accomplished the eight-mile hike, no matter how tired I might have been, knowing that dusk wasn't far away. But not with Alex. I would never encourage her to hike that distance while she was 18 weeks pregnant, even if the trail was mostly level and relatively easy.
We were rescued by the driver of a passing taxi. Seeing that we were cashless, he gave us some money and drove us to the centre. We were safe at last!
Stella Carmel Christian Conference Centre. |
A view of Isfya from Stella Carmel. |
Front Porch of Stella Carmel. |
At Stella Carmel, we had a twin-bedded room booked. Trevor, whom I knew from 1994, was at the reception and he assigned an upstairs room for us. Somewhat reluctantly, as we were the only guests, Margaret cooked us a meal. After that, we were left to ourselves.
Margaret, Trevor, and Andrew were three of the original seven full-time staff members who had remained at the Centre over the past six years. Margaret either noticed or somehow sensed Alex's pregnancy but there were no words spoken of congratulations. If anything, Trevor and Margaret, then a childless married couple, remained apathetic towards us, as if the disaster of 1994 still lingered in the air. However, Andrew was more talkative, as we got on well back in 1994.
There was one big change that transpired over the last six years, and that was the construction of the new D-shaped church building to accommodate the Kehliat Ha-Carmel Congregation who worshipped every Saturday. In 1994, I became familiar with this group of Messianic Jews and actually attended several of their weekly services held at the Centre itself. The only downside was that stacking away the chairs and cleaning the floor was down to us volunteers. It was tedious work. With the new building where everything remains set up, by 2000, the pressure on volunteers had been relieved.
The day after we arrived, it was a Saturday, and we participated in the service. People from all over the Haifa area gathered here, as they did in 1994. The service hadn't changed, even if the environment had. During both the songs and the sermon, both English and Hebrew were used, as the speaker spoke in Hebrew, and each sentence was translated into English by the interpreter who was next to him. After the service, we enjoyed some cold refreshments outside.
However, I was glad that our stay was at most four days, including the day we left for Jerusalem. Amidst the quietness, the oppression I felt in the air in 1994 lingered on, although Alex wasn't too aware of it. Indeed, everything they did by the rules of the Anglican Church was right. For example, co-habitants without a marriage certificate were banned from renting any rooms - even if the couple lived together for years and had children. Fair enough, perhaps, but the same couple might have been offered a double bedroom at the New Swedish Hostel in Jerusalem, and experience the sense of warm welcome from the Arab hosts, hence endearing greater respect. Here at Stella Carmel, all the staff were British, efficient, but cool of heart.
Another View from Stella Carmel |
Church of the Kehliat Ha-Carmel Congregation. |
Worship within the Kehliat Ha-Carmel Church. |
However, two Arab youths visited Stella Carmel daily in 1994. They were Rami and Nadal, both Christian believers. Back then, they were teenagers. On one occasion, Rami singled me out from everyone else and asked if we could pray together, as he was in some form of distress. I was happy to oblige. Six years later, I tried to track them down. I found out that Rami had since moved to Tel Aviv and worked in Security at Ben Gurion Airport. But Nadal was still living at home. We approached his house, a short walk from the Centre. He was there and he greeted us warmly, remembering who I was, and invited us into his house. We were welcomed by the rest of his family as we enjoyed some refreshments.
Another Mistake.
On one of the days we spent at Stella Carmel, we decided to return to Haifa with the erroneous idea that the holidays were over and the city would be alive and bustling. On a normal Israeli working day, Haifa is a great place to be, throbbing with life and vigour. And also to visit a bank to cash a cheque or two for some much-needed money.
A taxi pulled in where the sherut normally waits, just outside the driveway entrance. Using the last of the cash given to us by the taxi driver, but were optimistic that we would quickly find a bank, we paid the last of our cash to the driver. He then dropped us off at the city centre.
Oh no! The entire city was dead, a ghost town. The holidays weren't over but carried on into the next day. No one warned us at Stella Carmel, even if told them of our intentions. Once again we were stranded in Haifa with no money for a taxi back to Isfya.
Feeling panicky, we walked along the deserted streets. At first, I thought I saw what looked like a bank, and I made a quick dash towards it, only to find that it wasn't a bank but an administration office - and it was closed. We carried on walking, climbing the hill towards the summit of Mt Carmel. Near the Temple of Bahai were some shops - all closed except one, a pharmacy - the only shop open for trading in the whole city!
We walked in and I think the assistant saw I much in despair I was. I then explained (in English) that we were stranded in the city and we needed to get to Isfya. But we were cashless to pay the taxi fare. Would she accept a traveller's cheque? She gave me a cautious look as I produced the book and passport. She then took the countersigned cheque and gave me some cash in the equivalent currency. I felt an overwhelming relief. I soon found a taxi and paid the driver to take us back to Stella Carmel.
Preparing for Jerusalem.
The third day in Isfya was our anniversary, our first one after our wedding, and once over, it would never return. Therefore, we decided on a quiet day we could spend together. Whether it was still a national holiday or whether Israel had returned to work, it didn't matter, as we were not going further than a reasonable walking distance, and that was a stroll in the nearby forest of Mt. Carmel National Park. Here, the tranquillity of the area matched the inside of the Grand Canyon, the Dorset Coast Path and even the Great Barrier Reef. Yet, the stroll reflected the ups and downs of independent travel compared to a package holiday such as our honeymoon. The Jewish holiday is taken more seriously than in the UK. Here in England, our superstore is closed for only two days a year, Christmas and Easter. It remains open on all other Bank Holidays throughout the year. By contrast, the whole of Israel shuts down at least once a week, during the Sabbath.
As such, we hoped that on the day after our anniversary, Israel would be open to trading once again. I walked into Isfya town and found a bank - open. It was a relief to countersign a couple of cheques for some ready cash, which was a necessity for the bus fares to Jerusalem and the accommodation fees to cover us until we flew back to the UK.
We vacated our room and waited for a sherut service to Haifa Bus Station. Once we arrived, we boarded the Egged Bus service to Jerusalem. The Egged Bus is Israel's Greyhound, plying up and down the country from Acre north of Haifa to Eilat, near the border with Egypt. A domestic airline also connects Haifa and Jerusalem with Eilat.
Scene of the Mt Carmel National Park. |
Forest at Mt Carmel National Park. |
In Jerusalem, Alex got to grips with backpacking. |
We arrived at Jerusalem. Immediately, I noticed that the Egged Bus Terminal had moved from its original site on Jaffa Street to a new site further north, but still on Jaffa Street. In 2000, Jaffa Street was still a throughway for motorised traffic. But at present, Jaffa Street is now closed to traffic as it accommodates tram lines, nonexistent in my day.
From the bus station, we made our way through Jaffa Road, crossing over Zion Square fronted by the Ron Hotel (now the Jerusalem Hostel), where I stayed in 1976, and witnessed a demonstration outside of it in 1994. Eventually, the west wall of the Old City came into view and having navigated across a busy road, we entered the enclosure via Jaffa Gate. We made our way down Souk David, so familiar to me but so new to Alex, and arrived at the New Swedish Hostel, a place of refuge and consolation after the 1994 Stella Carmel disaster.
We entered and climbed the familiar stairs to reception. At the counter, a young Arab man was ready to serve us. I asked whether there was a bedroom with a double bed, and at first, he showed us an unoccupied dormitory with single bunk beds - perhaps thinking that "double bed" refers to a bunk bed. It doesn't, therefore we refused to accept the dormitory. He then led us to the room next door to the dormitory. It was a hotel room with a proper marriage bed and other facilities, along with privacy. It was perfect for us, and paid in advance for the remainder of the holiday, the second week. It was here that Alex was to get to grips with independent backpacking. The hostel has a member's kitchen.
Just a couple of doors away from our hostel was the currency exchange office, and it was here where I cashed the remaining cheques, not all at once, but one at a time every other day for safekeeping and to avoid carrying too much cash at once. Also nearby, a minimarket kept us fed, and both breakfast and evening meals were plentiful for both of us, with Alex taking over the domestic chores of preparation. It was off-season, hence we both avoided the long wait for the stove to be freed from another user - a problem in the past unique to this hostel.
But what we loved as well was the early mornings just before we got up for the day. From a couple of blocks across the Old City - which was free from traffic noise - the melodic sound of bells chiming from the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (the traditional site of Christ's crucifixion and burial) rang through the streets outside. This, combined with the Islamic call to prayer blaring aloud from the minarets dotted across the Muslim Quarter of the city, makes Jerusalem Old City the most unique location in the world. As far as my knowledge is concerned, I know of no other city where Christianity, Judaism, and Islam mingle within the tight confines of a city wall as in Jerusalem's Old City.
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Next Week: How we witnessed the Jewish Yom Kippur ritual and the Feast of Tabernacles.